On Being Mormon Amid Injustice

To me, the historical and doctrinal issues of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Mormon) pale in comparison to its acts of injustice.  Our beliefs in religion are often the result of culture, and things cultural are kind of a shared mythology.  It may be just me, but the mythology is not a shelf breaker.

From my perspective, the church has been profoundly unjust on a number of issues in my life: Blacks, ERA, Birth Control, Feminism, Marriage Equality, Male-only Ordination, CES brainwashing, Missionary Manipulation, Worthiness Manipulation, Tithing, All-things-sexuality, Excommunications, the November 2015 Policy, Religious exclusion and bigotry in the name of "Religious freedom"...  the list is endless, really.

As I wandered in the borderlands for many years, I developed an immunity to the historical and doctrinal issues, and could somewhat ignore all the issues of injustice, because, for the most part, they didn't affect me personally.  Or so I thought.  Then, two things happened: my daughter came out as a lesbian, and a couple of years later, proposition 8 happened.

I remember distinctly when and where I first articulated the complete collapse of my shelf.  I was talking to a non-LDS colleague and said that as a result of the underhanded manipulation by the Church with respect to Prop 8, I can no longer morally, ethically, and financially sustain my church.  It was in November 2008.  I was Ward Mission Leader at the time, paying tens of thousands of dollars per year in Tithing, thus supporting oppression of those, like my daughter, who were committing suicide as a result of LDS policies.

A while later, I took an assignment in India as a way to gracefully exit regular church activity.  It worked!  I preserved all my LDS connections among family and friends while not being present at church.  I always had the India travel excuse…

But did I do right?  No.

Ginetta Sagan of Amnesty International said, “Silence in the face of injustice is complicity with the oppressor."

I did not speak up.  I just disappeared.  And, to my disappointment, I found the same injustice pervades all organized religions and cultures.  And, I yearned for home, for tribe.  Add to that, the travel was having deleterious effects on my family.  So I came back to activity.

The first Sunday back, amid a discussion about the bogus signs of the times, I ceased to be silent.  I called a rabble-rouser named John Dehlin​ that afternoon, and as a result, I have chosen to stay active in the LDS Church.  It’s been an interesting ride.  I have learned a lot.

I am passionate about this choice.  We can choose to leave, and for many that is right choice. It’s a way of voting with our feet.   Another choice is to to stay and be silent, yet in my experience, it killed me inside and leaves me complicit in the injustice.  Or we can choose to influence change.  And that is largely a quest for Don Quixote de La Mancha -- typically nothing short of insane.

Yet I relate to Don Quixote.  So here is my quest:

We need people in the church who can affect change, if for no other reason but to prevent injustice and change hearts.

But how can we *effectively* affect change and prevent injustice?  That is the real challenge!   That's why I emphasized the word *effectively*.  We can speak out all the time, but if we choose this route, will we be effective?

Recently I saw a video of an LDS couple asking if they would be welcome in the Church if they advocate for praying to Heavenly Mother or openly point out doctrinal issues, such as how the Book of Mormon’s definition of God incarnating as Christ.  They want to be accepted and welcome in the church while advocating for doctrinal positions *against* the mainstream cultural narrative.  Is this going to be effective?  I think not.

First of all, they're picking the wrong battles: the nature of god is the ultimate unknowable--no one can say for sure who or what god is.  To strongly argue one position over another simply leads to disagreements, and when someone is openly fighting against the comfortable cultural narrative, they are going to be rejected.

And once rejected in our advocacy, we become the "other", the "apostate", the out-group, the "enemy".  Instead of changing hearts and preventing injustice, such "fighting" and advocacy hardens hearts and strengthens the resolve of the oppressors.

How then do we affect change and prevent injustice?  First we need to understand why there is injustice.

Injustice is an identity strategy that dehumanizes others in order to strengthen in-group identity.  Bullying, hypocrisy, name-calling, boundary management, white-and-black thinking, demands for loyalty to the in-group--these are all part of this same identity strategy dynamic.

So, when we openly position ourselves as advocates, we are playing into the current church's identity strategy. We become the enemy -- the Apostate -- giving a focus for the church to strengthen the identity of the True Believing Mormon.

So open, militant advocacy is precisely the opposite of being an *effective* voice for change and thus preventing injustice.

What changes hearts and eliminates injustice is only one thing: Love.  This isn't an abstract strategy.  It is impossible to be unjust to someone you truly love.  In using this word, I mean "agape" (non-condescending Godly love) and not "eros" (sexual love) or philios (familial love).

The concrete example I can best give is when someone I deeply love -- my daughter -- came out to me as gay, I could no longer maintain any aspect of injustice towards my LGBT brothers and sisters.  As long as I thought of LGBT as "the other", even if I condescendingly though that they were children of god in error, I was dehumanizing them.  My heart had to change.

In the case of blacks, the way I was changed was to work in an environment where my black brothers and sisters were equals.  Then, one day, a black colleague and I were on a curb flagging a cab in DC, and the cab passed by my black friend and picked me up first.  I became a witness to injustice, subtle as it was, but only possible because a black was my friend, my equal, and hence, I could feel what he felt.

The answer to how we affect change is clearly before us in our religious narrative.  Jesus Christ was not a passive pushover--he was a revolutionary anti-establishment change agent.  He spoke forcefully against injustice, and he was crucified for it: the ultimate in injustice and dehumanization.

While he chose the route of militant advocacy, he taught his disciples the Way of non-violence: they were to remain "righteous" in exactly the way church leaders of their time defined "righteous".  And most of all, they were to be loving, both to each other and to their enemies.

These aren't abstract strategies.  We must have our own identity strategy if we are to be effective: we must present our identity as "faithful mormon" by authentically being "faithful Mormon".  We must not "other" our Mormon brothers and sisters, but rather, find deep and powerful ways to serve them, to wash their feet in humble service.

You may object to this as being acquiescing to their game.  You may think that we are pretending--and you would be right in a very important way: if we pretend, we fail.

No, to affect change we must actually BE Mormons: true blue, through and through.  We must have our own identity strategy as to what IS a Mormon, in a way with which our unjust Mormon brothers and sisters can *identify*.

Jesus said, love your enemies.  Do good to them the despitefully abuse you.  Walk the second mile.  That you may BE (identified as) children of god.   Jesus laid out the ultimate identity strategy to affect change one heart at a time.  You cannot hate a child of God.

So how do we identify as a true Mormon yet stand as witness against oppression?  We adopt the first and only definition of "Mormon" in Mosiah 18:

A Mormon is one who is willing to lift one another's burdens, mourn with those who mourn, comfort those who stand in need of comfort, and stand as witness of God's unconditional love at all times and in all places they may be.

This definition of Mormon is one I can subscribe to with all my heart and soul.

Our identity strategy will affect change:

1.  We lift each other's burdens:  this is the Ammon principle: you don't change hearts and minds by first telling that they are wrong--you first demonstrate committed service.  When we are viewed as helping out in our wards, as being willing to home teach, serve in a calling, clean the chapel, help people move--they cannot reject us.  By serving with them, we develop mutual love and respect.

2.  We mourn with those who mourn.  Empathy.  We really listen with our souls, not only to those we agree with, not only with those who just have experienced tragedy but we spend time really listening to our fearful brothers and sisters who are ignorantly (or not so ignorantly) committing injustice. Their injustice is often the result of their fears and anger -- they, too, are mourning through their acts of fear and anger.  While we may not agree with them, we need to fully understand them without pushing our agenda.  We need them to embrace with their whole heart that we understand their fears and can share moments of deep connection in love.

3.  We comfort those who stand in need of comfort.  There are many victims of LDS injustice.  Our true Mormon identity is one who heals injustice by providing a safe refuge to those victimized by injustice.  We befriend the broken-hearted.  We become peer/equal friends to the outcasts.  We reach out to defend in loving ways, those who have been brutalized by malignant leaders.

4.  We stand as witnesses.  Once we have developed a mutual, loving relationship, and have demonstrated our enduring love through service, we have the moral authority to witness of an unconditionally loving god in the face of injustice.  By framing our spoken statement of opposition in the frame of our personal witness of a loving God, we become effective agents of change.

But what do we change?  If we seek to change the Church and culture, we're going to be disappointed.  It not only is an impossible task, but it is profoundly wearying and frustrating to tilt at such large windmills.

I think we need to lower expectations. Putting things in perspective: Jesus Christ, God incarnate, could not change the corporate leaders of the church of his day. How on earth do we expect to change ours?

We can't.

But we can touch those in our very small sphere of influence, lifting burdens, mourning, comforting, and bearing witness.

None of that need result in change of the system of oppression in which we are found. It never does.

But what it does do is two things. One, we have not been silent, and therefore are not complicit in the abuse. Two, we save lives. Literally. Spiritually, in every way possible.

We may find ourselves, like Jesus and his followers did, cast out of the corporate church. They can take away our membership. They can make us unwelcome in the building. But they can NEVER take away our Mormon Identity!

That is why we embrace who we truly are: We're Mormons, true, blue, through and through, and in the face of injustice, we will lift each other's burdens, mourn with those who mourn, comfort those standing in need of comfort, and we will stand as witnesses of God, as Jesus Christ did, in loving, open defiance against injustice at all times, and in all places we may find it.

Mystery and the Middle Way

When I listen to Rachmaninoff's Vespers, I get a spiritual uplift that I really cannot explain.  There is something amazing from the very first "Amin" to the very last.  What is this feeling?  Is it the manipulation of the music?  Is it a cultural message that I've been brought up to know?

Rachmaninoff wrote the Vespers in 1916, shortly before the overthrow of the Tsar, when much was amiss in Russian society.  Sadly, the spiritual traditions from which Rachmaninoff wrote this amazing music would be lost for nearly a century.  Perhaps he suspected something would be lost.  There is deep in us, seemingly, a sense of the unknown that motivates, inspires, and alters our consciousness through its mystery.

I was reading a wonderful piece this morning entitled "Meaning of the Rachmaninoff Vespers", by Dr. M. R. Brett-Crowther:

Rachmaninov wrote this music in 1916, when the future of Russia was about to become a prolonged, dehumanizing catastrophe, through the Revolution which Nicholas II and Alexandra by their appalling policies had made inevitable. Even Nicholas’ abdication was the result of his incompetence.  But there is in Russian history, and in the heart of all Russians, a depth of sorrowful love, which receives catastrophe as a kind of revelation.  At least, this is the general argument of Nicholas Berdyaev, one of Russian Orthodoxy’s greatest writers and advocates.  As he says:

The mystery always remains; it is deepened by our knowledge.  Knowledge destroys only false mysteries created by our own ignorance, but there are other mysteries which confront us when we reach the depth of knowledge.  God is a mystery, and the knowledge of God is communicated in mystery.  Rational theology is false theology, for it denies the mystery that surrounds God.

I have spoken on this blog about how the Middle Way is one of truth, of sorting out or oneself what is true, discarding things that are not true, and adopting things that are.  Yet there are many things which remain 'unknowable' in my journey along the Way.

If I am honest with myself, really, truly, deeply honest, then I have to realize that much of what I believe is based upon assertion: My belief is not based upon a systematic, epistemological method, but rather, that it feels good to me.  I have suggested in other posts that this feeling of certainty can be dangerous, as it allows blind acceptance of things not true.

But to objectively put everything I believe into a 'true' or 'not true' category based upon critical thinking perhaps denies something that I cannot explain, or that upon explaining it and 'demystifying' it, it loses power to me. 

Objective pursuit of truth can be starkly depressing, as so much of what we believe of spiritual things cannot be proven or disproven.  And if I adopt the 'all or nothing' paradigm, then 'nothing' is a lonely place. 

I love the statement, above, by Nicholas Berdyaev.  The pursuit of knowledge in the Middle Way has allowed me to reject some things that simply are not true: literalism in things.  But as I plumb the depths of this knowledge, there is something that remains -- a mystery not of the unknown, but of the unknowable.  There is a connection between humans that cannot be fully explained in science.  Sure, I can surmise that the mechanisms of non-verbal communication, of the subtleties of our non-conscious mind connecting through subtle signals can connect with others in their non-conscious perceptions, but this hardly satisfies. 

Even the 'why' can be explained: evolution required us to relate together, to flock, much as birds do to survive the winters. 

But to rationalize the unknowable, the mystery of not only human connection, but the spiritual basis of all that is, is to lose sight of the wonder of all that is. 

If I think of agape, 'godly love', I don't think there are words to justify it, to explain it, to defend it.  It simply is.  Why I love, how I love...these are all a very deep mystery.  Yet I love -- that is a fact, an undeniable, unalterable fact.  And more so, I feel loved by something greater than myself, outside my conscious self.  The moment I try to explain this love, to rationalize it, I lose the sense of awe and mystery.

How many times have I heard music or spoken word that touches me to the core.  It isn't the words, it's the feeling.  How many times have I heard chant of scripture, any scripture, and been transported to another plane of existence: yet hearing the translation of the words, it has no power at all. 

If the Middle Way is about sorting out truth of things, I have to also admit the truth of spiritual feelings.  At one extreme, religious people tend to define these feelings of spirituality within the confines of their belief and arduously defend their beliefs.  At the other, the rational mind tends to reject the idea of spiritual feelings as being simply a manifestation of brain chemistry and emotion.  To these two poles, I ask, "Where does Godly Love (agape) fit"? 

And I would answer, "In the Middle". 

When I am into a mode of studying principles that defend my beliefs, or of arguing things about whatever, somehow I seem to lose a sense of awe and mystery that accompanies a faith in the unknowable.  I need that sense of awe and mystery.  I need to feel the wonder -- maybe it's just my personal feelings of inadequacy, or a program I was grown up to follow, I don't know or care.

How many times in my life have I realized how important it is to daily feast upon the Word and feel of the spirit.  A discipline of reading and praying tends to feed the soul in ways that cannot be achieved with intellectualism.  I need this, and yet, my reading and praying, of whatever form it is, cannot be and should not be an escape from reality.  My feasting upon the Word, my communion with god must lead me to a better, more fulfilled life, one connected with the realities of my personal situation and context.

This is a great paradox: by opening up my mind to the Mystery, I return to reality with a sense of purpose, of focus, and armed with the ability to sort out truth and what I need to do about it. 
 

The Middle Way is not 'lukewarm'

One objection I hear over and over again is that the Middle Way is wrong because it is 'lukewarm'.  People cite the following scripture as rejecting the Middle Way:

"I know thy works, that thou art neither cold nor hot: I would thou wert cold or hot.  So then because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spew thee out of my mouth." (Revelation 3:15-16)

What an unfortunate scripture.  The King James translators were gracious in this translation -- the greek word more accurately translates into 'vomit' instead of 'spew'.  I wonder, though.  Does this "proof text" mean what people think it means? is it really talking about "middle ground" or rather, indifference?

The Middle Way I subscribe to is by no means indifferent.  It's hard work and it's decisive: One must decisively establish what one believes, and be confident enough in it so as to not be bothered by others' beliefs.  This is not lukewarm.

If you are an independent voter, and carefully vote based upon issues and what you feel to be right, does this mean you are indifferent? lukewarm?

I believe the Middle Way is to objectively seek the truth in things, recognizing that truth has many dimensions.  That a myth is not literally true does not mean it does not contain moral truth.

The Middle Way is also one of love, of harmony, of listening to other viewpoints and being willing to share what we have in common.  Because we have gifts differing, each one of us has a slightly different view of life.  While some things are provably true or false, many other things are subject to our opinions and thus are not really debatable in a meaningful way.  Can we not find a middle ground to share what we feel? 

Finding a middle way

I think many of us who were brought up in strongly traditional religions, become disaffected when we find out that our religion, its precepts, its history, and its practice are not 'true', in the sense of being factual or even enlightened.  Disaffection becomes a disease that cancors us, so when we try to participate for good reasons, we have those face palm moments where someone will teach or preach complete fiction as if it were fact.

It becomes really insidious when those in leadership position insist on the members adopting the position of false fiction, because to do otherwise would not be faith promoting.  For example, many believe that God created the earth in a relatively short period of time, but the facts show that the earth is very old, and that evolution is very much part of the process -- and of course, this puts a lie to the mythological account in Genesis.

Some of these Church leaders insist that there is "no middle way": either you fully beleive and accept doctrine as taught, or you are not a member of the church.  Others, who become disaffected, will claim there is no middle way, for to continue to participate in a religion you know is false is to be "Intellectually dishonest".

So, is it really true that there is no Middle Way?  I think there is.

Confucius' key philosophy on how to live a rich and full life was based on something he called "the Middle Way". This is represented in one character "Zhong" (中) which means "the Middle", "Middle Way", or "the Center". The book by Confucius on this topic typically has the english title "Doctrine of the Mean", where "Mean" is used in its sense of being the average of things -- this isn't what Confucius was saying.

The Middle Way of confucius is a balanced, centered life. The explicit statement, coming from the first chapter is as follows (my translation):

The mandate of heaven is called “Nature” (性 xing),
Following nature is called “the Way” (道 Dao),
Cultivating the way is called “Learning”. (教 Jiao)

The Way cannot be departed from for a moment
If you could depart from it, it would not be ‘the Way’.
...
When one sets aside extremes, e.g. joy, anger, sorry, and pleasure; this is called ‘The Middle Way’ (中 zhong).
In the Middle Way, when one can express emotion yet remain centered, this is called “Harmony” (和 he).
The Middle Way is the root of all things under heaven.
Harmony is the realization of the Way.
When the Middle Way is actualized with Harmony, All things thrive.

To be on the Middle Way as applied to being in a religion: the True Believing aspect of our faith is one of absolutes, of extremes: If you are not with me, you are against me. It's either all true, or all fraud. Be ye therefore perfect, as your Father in Heaven is perfect. "I KNOW" the church is the only true church on the face of the earth... etc.

Once a True Believing member realizes that there are profound problems with the historical and current truth claims of the church, it is highly likely that the True Believer goes to the other extreme of emotion: hatred. So one emotional extreme morphs into another: joy in the gospel that everything is wonderful turns into rabid hatred of the church. These two extremes are not on the Way as Confucius would point out. He suggests that instead of starting from a position of one pole, it's better to center your life -- to calm the mind of emotion, and find the pivot point of the Way: the Middle/Zhong. From this position of the Middle, Confucius is saying that it's ok to send out emotion, but you remain anchored in the Middle Way.

In this sense, to be on the "Middle Way" is to be balanced in one's view of the church: to be in harmony with the Spirit of the Gospel, while recognizing that the physical manifestation of that spirit is subject to a lot of human error. It is to be open minded and not strident in one's beliefs, to accept the value in both the church as well as other belief systems, while being true to one's authentic self and the truth.

There are so many writings in asian culture about this concept. Buddhism, Taoism, Japanese culture and tradition are all based upon an idea that detachment from extreme emotion allows one to be authentic in one's emotions. It's a deep paradox. Wuwei of the Taoist, Buddhiyogaad of the Hindu, Dharma of the Buddhist -- while being a bit different in extended meaning, all start from a position of detachment in order to connect.

I am truly suggesting that the Middle Way is more enlightened and divine than a position of extreme and Blind Faith in the Church and it fundamentalist-styled teachings; or, on the other hand, divorcing oneself entirely from the church in anger. I'm also saying that by adopting Confucius' Middle Way, you can better see the truth in the church, and not react to its problems through another extreme emotion: hostility. The Middle Way is to be balanced, to be centered: what the Bhagavad Gita calls "Yoga": the unity of mind and spirit.

This "Middle Way" is not a movement or an organization -- it is not anything organized at all -- it is an individual approach to life that finds the center, the pivot point of the Way, and then joyfully expresses thought and feeling from the authenticity of the center of one's soul.

Laotzu says, "名可名，非常名" - "The names that we can name are by no means constant names", meaning that labels are insufficient to accurately and completely define a thing. If we struggle for a name of something, like the "Middle Way", it's because the concept is much broader than the words imply. Confucius Middle Way is a state of sattori -- peaceful enlightenment, where emotions are at rest, and being at rest, one is free to be authentic in one's emotions and expressions. It may be better to say, "I am centered", which better implies this state of harmony (和).