Hamlet on the Pot
My mom once told me I was cursed with a “Hamlet Complex.” She said this in response to a long since forgotten decision I was struggling with, and she meant, I think, that I had a tendency to overanalyze things, sometimes to the point of inaction. While I’ve never contemplated anything as weighty as “to be or not to be,” I’ll admit that I’m fascinated by the myriad possibilities life offers, often overanalyzing its many alternatives. Robert Frost talks of two roads diverging in a wood… oh that there were only two! Some people seem blessed (cursed?) to instinctively know the road they were born to travel; I am cursed (blessed?) to yearn for life experience on innumerable roads. But life has a way of forcing one to choose a path, and saying “yes” to one, regrettably means saying “no” to another. Aye, there’s the rub.
Fast forward to the recent SLC Sunstone Symposium when this “Hamlet Complex” idea was rephrased to me in a rather more colorful manner by an old friend I hadn’t seen since I was a student at BYU. After exchanging a few light pleasantries, my friend’s expression turned serious and he blindsided me with the following question, “So, you’re here at Sunstone…” he paused to let the weight and nuance of such a statement sink in, “Do you still believe the Church is true?”
Ever get knocked off balance by a blunt or personal question? That’s what happened to me— I temporarily lost my faculty for discernment, not realizing until it was too late that he had been joking.
Pushed forward by something – my wish to be polite?… my need to defend my presence at Sunstone?… my desire to be of possible assistance to a friend in need?… — I stuttered and stammered through a lame answer, “Uh… well… that’s a complicated question… um… I’ve got my doubts and questions, to be sure… um… I’m not sure I see it as an all-or-nothing, true-or-not-true proposition… I’m active in my home ward, if that’s what you mean…” and so on… I’m sure I sounded utterly ridiculous.
Throughout my hemming and hawing my friend’s expression vacillated from the serious to the slightly amused; and then, hoping to extend my torture, he fired off the following barb, “Matt, don’t you think it’s time to sh*t or get off the pot?”
“Excuse me? Sh*t or get off the pot?” I said, taken aback.
“Yeah, are you in or are you out? Are you a believer or not? Do you have faith or not?” His look was pointed, intense.
Like a train wreck, my momentum carried me forward, “Hmmm… yeah, interesting question… tough to answer… um…”
Then he started cracking up. “Oh man, I’m just busting your chops!”
Ha. Funny. You got me. The picture of “relief” spread across my face. And then I picked up an immense book sitting on a nearby table and introduced it to the side of his head. (Or did I just imagine it?)
Joking aside, we picked up the conversation where we left off— the feasibility of life on the pot.
From my numerous conversations with Ex- and Post-Mormons (which I distinguish from Anti-Mormons) on the one hand, and so-called True Blue Mormons on the other, it seems that while they disagree on a vast number of things, they’re in harmonious agreement about this one point: either you’re on the pot or you’re off.
President Joseph Fielding Smith said, “Mormonism, as it is called, must stand or fall on the story of Joseph Smith. He was either a prophet of God, divinely called, properly appointed and commissioned, or he was one of the biggest frauds this world has ever seen. There is no middle ground. If Joseph Smith was a deceiver, who willfully attempted to mislead the people, then he should be exposed; his claims should be refuted, and his doctrines shown to be false, for the doctrines of an impostor cannot be made to harmonize in all particulars with divine truth.” (Doctrines of Salvation, Vol. 1, p. 188)
President Hinckley said, “Each of us has to face the matter— either the Church is true, or it is a fraud. There is no middle ground. It is the Church and kingdom of God, or it is nothing.” (“Loyalty,” April Conference, 2003.)
Like I said, most Ex- and Post-Mormons couldn’t agree more.
Just an hour or so after my “pot” conversation, I attended a symposium session that once again rephrased my old “Hamlet Complex” predicament, this time in a more academic manner. The session, entitled “Reflections on Mormon Liminality: A Generational Response (SL06164),” featured father and son Bryon and Eric Martin, who argued against Dan Wotherspoon’s December 2005 Sunstone editorial (“A Long Way Just To Sit”) regarding the feasibility of living life in a liminal state. According to Wikipedia, “[A] liminal state is characterized by ambiguity, openness, and indeterminacy. One’s sense of identity dissolves to some extent, bringing about disorientation. Liminality is a period of transition, during which your normal limits to thought, self-understanding, and behavior are relaxed, opening the way to something new.”
I’m oversimplifying, but Dan sees many in the Sunstone community as living in a liminal state, “neither here nor there… betwixt and between the positions assigned and arrayed by law, custom, [and] convention.” However, “a liminal state,” the Martins argue, “is a transitional phase, not a place to put down roots.”
What do you think? Can one live life in a liminal state? If so, what are the benefits or liabilities of such a life? And what about the Church— does it have room for Hamlets? Or would it prefer we kindly “do our business,” or get off the pot?
October 26th, 2006 at 11:19 am
Personally, I prefer the “fish or cut bait” metaphor. But I wouldn’t let metaphors or analogies — whether fish, pot, or liminality — displace the simple fact that people can and do spend years, even lifetimes, half in and half out, whether with Sunstone or flying solo.
Here’s another metaphor: the lecture hall. Some students are eager to sit in the front row. Others scatter in the middle or near the sides. Some insist on a back-row seat, while a few might even prefer standing out in the hallway, catching most of the words and peeking inside the room only once in a while. A few show up for handouts or announcements, then exit the building. So everyone finds the distance from the lecturer that makes them comfortable. If one happens to be a back-row or out-in-the-hall person, so be it, but there’s nothing particularly transitional about it. It’s just a matter of how close to the speaker we are comfortable sitting.
October 26th, 2006 at 12:07 pm
Matt,
So that was YOU who picked up a book and smacked somebody in the book sellers room! I saw that — or did I just see it coming in your story? Hmmm.
Dave has addressed your question about whether one can put down roots in a liminal state. As Dave notes, some students spend their entire educational life in a liminal state. And we all know people who relate to their families from liminal states (for their own sanity), not to mention relate to their employment, their communities, and their wards from liminal states. Of course we put down roots in liminal states — because we are putting roots down for ourselves, not for the institutions — and liminality only makes sense with reference to an institution. Few of us would claim absolute loyalty to most of the institutions that contribute to our lives, thus we all adjust to varying degrees of liminality — and put down roots here and there as we please.
The bigger question, and the one that keeps me hopping (in behalf of many other people as well as myself) is the one you pose about whether there is room in the institutions I care about for personal liminality. With regard to the church, the answer appears to be somewhat capricious and to depend (at least in some respects) on time, place and ecclesiastical personality.
My heart has matured within the shaping experiences in this church, both devastating and transcendent, and it is my home. Being committed to understanding my own experience and refusing to dismiss it when it conflicts with what appears to be ecclesiastical truth will inevitably create liminality. And wanting so much to serve others within this home, I wouldn’t welcome much an invitation to leave because of a perceived abyss between loyalty expected from me and liminality felt.
I am always extremely aware of whether those in authority over me perceive me as loyal to the deeper truths I share with them and with the institution. The more we share the experience of serving together and being inspired together, the greater the insurance that there will be room for my liminality.
It isn’t really that calculated. My wanting to share with those in authority over me springs from the desire to connect, serve and inspire and be inspired on many levels. But it also feels like liminality insurance.
October 26th, 2006 at 12:16 pm
All good questions, Matt. What follows is my attempt at a response.
I agree with Dave that much of peoples’ interaction with the institutional church is often the result of personal temperament rather than personal righteousness. We can’t automatically assume that the front row sitters are more interested in the class than the back row sitters. And when it comes to faith, we ALL see through a glass darkly. But I have sometimes been guilty of putting on sunglasses before I even try to see.
I take it as a given that everybody eventually has experiences which put faith into question. This is simply part of life. Sooner or later we find out that love hurts, roses have thorns, and the world is not our oyster. In the church, that could mean finding out firsthand that leaders can do damage, that Joseph Smith, for all his strengths, was very limited in some ways, or that prayers often go unanswered. So, what to do next? Either we attempt to rebuild our weltanshauung to accomodate the new reality, or we don’t. And in the church sense, even making the attempt counts. I find it very revealing and encouraging that the first section of our Doctrine and Covenants states that “these commandments … were given to my servant … in his weakness”, and the title page of the Book of Mormon more or less acknowledges that there are errors.
So to answer your question, yes, I do think the church has plenty of room for people who don’t quite know where they fit. All have not the same gifts. My experience teaches me that nobody cares what you believe as long as you show up to help paint the widow’s house on Saturday and do your Sunday calling.
Finally, Matt, I think you should have called this post To Pee, or Not to Pee. But perhaps you thought of that and decided against it in the interest of decorum. If that is true, please accept my apologies for dropping this thread right to rock bottom in comment # 2.
October 26th, 2006 at 12:31 pm
I think within LDS-ism, you have to consider what “getting off the pot” really means. I went through a considerable period of time where my once-zealous belief was gradually being altered by realities that I couldn’t reconcile. I occasionally let some of this slip to a few trusted friends, but for the most part, I continued to jump through all the same hoops, acting as if my belief remained unwavering. I was stake executive secretary. I was a married father of five. I managed an LDS bookstore, for crying out loud. My job, my family, my friendships—virtually my world seemed to hinge on my involvement with the LDS church and culture.
Yes, one of those “realities that I couldn’t reconcile” with LDS-ism was the growing awareness that I was, in fact, a gay man. I found myself in a condition where I felt trapped. To live my life openly would mean loss of my family, loss of my job, loss of at least some friends, and loss of membership in a church that I wasn’t quite ready to let go, despite my increasing skepticism. I couldn’t let my doubts be known. I couldn’t let my attractions be known. So I hid, and I presented a false self to the world.
I don’t mean to threadjack here, but “coming out” as an ex- or post-mormon was quite nearly as difficult as coming out as a gay man. BOTH are live-changing, world-changing events. In some ways, leaving the church is more so. Even now, there are old acquaintences who hear that I’ve divorced and come out of the closet, but react with greater shock and disappoinment to my leaving the church! My eldest daughter no longer acknowledges me as “dad,” not because I’m gay, but because I went against Gordon B. Hinckley’s dictates by getting piercings and tattoos. Sometimes you don’t realize just how overwhelming the LDS culture is until you’ve left it.
October 26th, 2006 at 1:23 pm
Matt,
This was an interesting read. Part of me will probably always want to be on the pot trying to go. For now though, I think I’m at least mentally off the pot.
The funny thing about the Exmo’s and TBM’s wanting a decision to be made one way or the other is the pure selfishness of it. Both sides looking for numbers they can conclusively put on their “side”. One thing I respect about the church is that it doesn’t push doubters or unbelievers out and doesn’t expect TBM’s to be perfect. Sometimes TBM’s may feel that way, but that’s not the reality of it.
The church has its arms open at all times no matter what. Whether you follow the WOW or not, whether you pay Tithing or not, whether you even believe or not. The defining moment occurs when the doubter finally realizes that even though the church has its arms wide open, its mouth is closed. This process of coming to a realization that the mouth is closed takes longer for some than for others. For some, full blown apostasy can take years. For others, it can be a matter of months.
October 26th, 2006 at 1:47 pm
Sheesh. That anal-ogy is sooo unfair. Don’t people know, some of us can take longer to do-our-business than others? My heavens. Just give me a good book and a box of matches, and I can spend the better part of an afternoon . . . hmm — where was I going with this?
October 26th, 2006 at 2:23 pm
Mark IV: To Pee, of Not to Pee is brilliant! Wish I’d thought of it. Obviously, the scatological nature of the metaphor brought out my “inner Beavis,” but knowing Sunstone for the classy joint that it is, I tried my best to keep it clean. I briefly considered alluding to ExMo’s as “backed up,” and TBM’s as “incontinent”; I considered referring to spiritual experiences as laxatives… but I ultimately figured the Kaimis and Mark IVs would let their “inner Buttheads” out in the comments. And my inner Beavis is glad you did!
October 26th, 2006 at 2:58 pm
Simeon: I’m not sure whay you mean by “the Church’s mouth is closed”?
And to all: I personally don’t think the core beliefs of the Nicks and Simeons are too far apart from the beliefs of the Lisas, Daves, Marks, and Kaimis. (Note: I wouldn’t say that about all Mormons, but from what I’ve been able to glean around the Internet, Lisa, Dave, Mark, and Kaimi are relatively open minded about the exclusiveness of Mormonism’s truth claims… and I apologize if I’ve misread or misclassified any of you!) (And maybe I’m wrong or naive about how close I perceive each side to be?) In any case, assuming I’m close to being right, what factors cause some, after passing through a liminal stage, to go back to the ATM and withdraw more money for another run at the same blackjack table (i.e. regroup or redefine their beliefs/practice within the walls of the Church), and others to cash out and try a new casino? (Maybe a bad metaphor?) Lisa talks about the Church “being her home” and of feelings of “loyalty,” while Nick and Simeon talk of the painful decision to sever ties with that home. I know a lot of Lisas and a lot of Nicks/Simeons… can we make some general conclusions, or is it all case by case? Is the answer as simple as what Dave said, “It’s just a matter of how close to the speaker we are comfortable sitting.”??? How much tension between personal beliefs and institutional beliefs one is willing to live with?
Lisa: Love the “liminality insurance” idea. Reminds me that I am way past due on paying my premiums. Rest of your comments were great as well.
Nick: I would imagine liminality with regards to sexual orientation is one of the most difficult tensions to live with and reconcile. Living in a liminal sexual state is essentially what the Church is asking its SSA members to do. Sh*tting (i.e. getting married) is no longer encouraged, and getting off the pot is to risk one’s eternal blessings… all one can do then, I guess, is to take Kaimi’s advice in #6 and hunker down with a good book. Sheesh!
October 26th, 2006 at 3:01 pm
Matt, I don’t mean to dump on you, but do you know what Kurt Vonnegut says about asterisks? Thinking about it leaves me flushed…ahem.
As with many analogies, I wonder if this one doesn’t go to pot if taken too far. What are the parallels for incontinence? Constipation? The runs? Is Sunstone the Depends® of Mormondom? Perhaps it is possible to get off the pot and still freely “do our business!”
Personally, I wish the GAs would let us hang around for as long as we need, but they remind us that our so doing may prevent others from doing their business. It can be more difficult to erm…work under pressure. Regardless of this hot air, I’ve experienced much forgiveness and understanding at the local levels, as long as I kept my embarrassing noisings to a minimum. But it’s been exhausting–you could say that I’m wiped. (groans, please)
Here’s another suggested title: TP, or not TP–that is the question.
October 26th, 2006 at 3:28 pm
Simeon:
I’m also not certain what you mean with the reference to mouth being closed.
Also, I disagree with the notion that the liminal state leads to full blown apostasy, as you imply with “For some, full blown apostasy can take years. For others, it can be a matter of months.”
There is room for a lifetime of heterodoxy, if one can focus on the deeper truths and discard the dogma. Not easy, to be sure, but for many a valid option.
October 26th, 2006 at 3:49 pm
Wow, John, I wasn’t aware of the anatomical implications of the asterisk! It’s fortunate (or unfortunate?) I didn’t choose any of these instead: @, #, $, %, ^, &…
Oh, and “TP, or Not TP”… you guys are too clever. Indeed, “Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.” I think the Bard is turning over in his grave.
Signed,
M*tt
October 26th, 2006 at 4:44 pm
John,
But I thought the typographical equivalent of the assterisk was . . .
. . . the colon.
(Rimshot.)
Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all week.
October 26th, 2006 at 5:14 pm
Golly gosh, are y’all still wondering what a journal for mormon men would be like?
October 26th, 2006 at 9:13 pm
To drag this back on topic, kicking and screaming I’m sure.
I have referred in the past to Messrs. Smith and Hinckley’s very similar statements as “The Binary Hypothesis.” It’s principled rhetoric designed to secure believers within the fold of the faithful. It has the unfortunate consequence of driving away people who are pretty convinced that the Sunday School Stories and Reality don’t jibe.
The idea that one “has to” be in or out, True Blue or Post-, is false. I know it’s false because I’ve been neither for four years, with no end in sight. My butt is in a pew pretty much every Sunday, I have the Keys of the Kingdom (I run the ward web site) and I’m singing with a small group at stake conference on Saturday night. Yet I have almost no testimony of a restoration, the divine origin of the Book of Mormon, or the prophetic mission of Joseph Smith. I’m not even sure when I pray that I’m not just talking to myself.
It’s not an ideal situation, but “Ideal” is an illusion. Nobody gets to decide for me how I will connect with my Higher Power. I have no magic wand that will make me believe again, and I’m not leaving the church just so people who are uncomfortable with differing levels of belief can maintain their binary paradigm.
October 26th, 2006 at 10:32 pm
Wow, you guys amaze me. Your potty humor is much more highbrow than anything I could come up with.
But thanks for the thread. I really needed a good laugh tonite.
October 26th, 2006 at 10:39 pm
Paula is right, the journal for mormon men idea isn’t gonna fly. What were we thinking?
Thanks for getting this thread back on track, Ann. Couldn’t agree more. Any thoughts as to what factors cause people like you to stay, despite a lacking TBM testimony, and others to leave?
October 27th, 2006 at 1:24 am
Matt:
You may be launching this post squarely into a “Why We Stay” break-out session.
Lisa
October 27th, 2006 at 5:36 am
Ann, I’d love to know one of your recent dreams and what you think/feel about it, especially if it contains images pertaining to our culture/society.
ENK
October 27th, 2006 at 2:52 pm
Ann (and others):
There are so many people that stay even though they don’t believe. They stay for a huge variety of reasons such as family obligations, habit, community, fear, etc. I don’t like that there is a mentality that one either needs to be in or out, and it always troubles me when I hear this over the pulpit.
I am currently navigating the waters of liminality, and I have had several people tell me that if I don’t believe, I should just leave it _ all_. They say that my questioning is harming the testimonies of those that are ‘in the fold,’ and that it’s not right for me to unduly influence these folks. I have thought a lot about this, and I’m not sure how to respond. My gut level-response is to say that if I am really having that kind of influence for being honest and critical in my approach to Mormonism, then there must be something wrong with the church (or its members) because it can’t withstand honest inquiry. But I also feel a certain responsbility to support others’ beliefs and I am uncomfortable thinking that I would influence someone to make a choice that they would regret later..
October 27th, 2006 at 2:58 pm
Sorry for the earlier digression, but Matt opened the door wide, and I had to–had to walk through it. I agree with Ann and others that Mormon liminality merits serious discussion.
Even though church leaders are use the “you’re in or out” rhetoric across the pulpit, in practice they seem to be much more accomodating. In principle, criticism and disobedience are condemned, but in practice, Sunstone and blogging are tolerated, and less active/orthodox men are encouraged to teach EQ and serve in scouts (I’ve experienced both of the latter). Otherwise, I don’t think there would be much of a church left to lead. There are mechanisms that create concentric circles of increasing/decreasing insider status: temple worthiness, priesthood hierarchy, legacy and potential for service, etc. Here’s an illustration:
- Church leadership (esp. GA and priesthood).
- Temple worthy active members.
- Non-temple-going active members.
- Less active, slightly disgruntled borderlands members.
- Mostly inactive members who still accept home teachers.
This is not meant to be comprehensive–just illustrative of the non-binary nature of the church in practice.
October 27th, 2006 at 6:01 pm
An observation - the binary approach, if that is what we want to call it, is very much a part of the post-mo taxonomy as well. After all, active members do not refer to themselves as TBM and sheeple. Those two designations don’t leave much room for nuance, do they?
I’m just pointing out that the line drawing isn’t all being done by GBH, so there must be some other reason for it than to intimidate people into staying in the fold.
October 27th, 2006 at 8:07 pm
Eugene, that is a very interesting question. I don’t make an effort to remember my dreams, and they are usually gone within minutes of waking. I have to anchor them, either verbally or in writing, to get them to stick. So I’m afraid my subconscious is not going to be very enlightening.
When I told my first bishop as a New Order Mormon about my lack of belief, he mentioned that there were others in the ward who were attending and participating just for family. I asked him for names, but he balked. I thought we could start a club.
Someone made a proposal on the NOM discussion board once that the Foyerites could start holding their own fast & testimony meetings in the gym section of the cultural hall. Eventually, there would probably more of Us than Them, and then we could take the chapel and kick Them to the cultural hall.
Jana, I think you’re spot on about both your ability to influence others being an indication that TOTAL Church isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, and supporting others in their beliefs. Speaking honestly but kindly in the vernacular of the community with a goal of understanding vs. being understood will strengthen the faith of others, not weaken it.
As an example, I think nobody’s faith is strengthened by platitudes unless those platitudes are deeply examined. Too often LDS express platitudes as answers in their own right, skipping over the sometimes deeper and more nuanced meanings of those ideas. “God has something better for you” doesn’t do much to ease a deep disappointment, but a deeper and more careful examination of free will vs. divine intervention can open the believer up to new ideas and perhaps help him/her see the matter from a different angle.
Perhaps the objection to living in a liminal state (gosh, I sound so smart; I’d never read the word before yesterday) is a side effect of our driven, goal-oriented culture. We’ve got to be heading somewhere! Living in a liminal state, though, is not so strange if you’re just focused on being in the moment. Where am I going? What’s next? I have no idea. But now…now is fine. I can learn stuff from the Mormons. That’s good enough for me.
John, I like the illustration of your concentric circles, but I don’t think people have to live entirely within a circle. The boundaries are porous. I have dear friends in the outspoken ex-mormon community, and others among the devout believers. I feel fortunate that I can move back and forth between them without ever being “other.” The best thing about living with ambiguity is how fluid it is.
October 28th, 2006 at 7:41 am
It occurred to me this morning that there are probably no pots in heaven or the spirit world. This material world is the place where we need them. We take in nourishment, extract the nutrients our respective systems choose to assimilate, and eliminate the residue. Most of the time we do this in private, unless we are in the military or are exhibitionists.
Then I was reminded of a dream my daughter shared with me this past year, where she was doing her business open to the public. She is in the healing profession and this dream puzzled and embarrassed her a lot. This blog thread is now giving me a lot of food for thought and I’m digesting what I can–slowly. And here we all are, sitting and chatting at the same time, as we soldiers used to do when I was young.
Let us not be embarrassed, dear friends. We ARE in the military—God’s Army, eh?
In any case, it also occurred to me that our “Brother Joseph” would love to join us in this collective process. He had a BIG HEART. He also had a BIG EGO. And therein lies our cultural/societal dilemma. Our individual systems are trying to process the mixed bag of goodies he left, and we are left to assimilate the loving things he taught and eliminate the egoistic residue.
I don’t believe that our heads—our rational processes–are all that good in making the choices of what is truly nourishing. We keep choking on the doctrine and the dogma.
And this is where our women have much to teach us guys. They are the keepers of the flame of love and compassion—and I don’t mean “idiot compassion” as Wilber refers to it. I mean the “truly true”.
Matt: I didn’t take you seriously when you first posted this Hamlet thread, so I didn’t bother to read everything you wrote at first scan. But as the women began to speak I found my ego convicted as my heart began to melt and take in new meaning. I repented and came back to you and read everything again, carefully. I saw you differently. I saw your struggle and believed you. I saw that prince in you struggling to become the king he feels destined to become. I say now: more power to you. Hang in there and you will find it—and without having to stab anybody through the curtains.
Ann: Your initial remarks so touched me that I wrote an enthusiastic email to one of my sons who is presently in the liminal struggle and said: “Ann looks like she knows who she is, what she believes and what she wants. Nobody pushes her around. She also chooses to stay in the institution, whether the SP or Bp like it or not.”
So, thank you, dear sisters, for speaking your hearts. That is where the real power of our people—our culture—our tradition–rests: in the heart, in our feelings, in the interior chambers of our souls. It is the one place we can truly meet as ONE.
October 28th, 2006 at 12:48 pm
What is interesting to me about how others abide in the liminal state is the struggles they seem to have with others, who insist they must be in or out. While I have heard from Post/Ex-Mormons that the way of integrity prohibits staying when you don’t believe (a premise that I don’t believe; being true to ourselves can come in many different flavors), I have never, not once, heard from a person in my stake or ward, “In or out.”
My bishop, Relief Society president, and not a few members of the ward know that my faith doesn’t “measure up.” But to a person, they are all glad that I’m there.
October 28th, 2006 at 9:59 pm
Gordon B Hinckleys mouth might as well be closed. I don’t know that we teach that. It’s more of a couplet than anything. I don’t know. Can’t we just move forward. etc etc etc. The “apostles and prophets” are at the helm but keep thmselves out of the loop. This is what I meant when I said the churchs mouth is closed.
I have a friendly bishop, a great home teacher, wonderful gospel doctrine teachers, a super elders quorum president, tons of member friends and NO answers. No answers to serious questions about changing doctrine and hidden history. My bishop sure cares about my eternal salvation though. This is what I meant when I said the churchs arms are always open.
The Church was never a club to me. It was much more than that. That said, It’s was never about just making friends and building my social circle. It was never about needing an organization to help me raise my kids. It was never about pleasing my parents or other member friends. It was about doing what the Lord wanted me to do because I believed what I was taught. When you find out that what you were taught was not 100% accurate, it’s only natural to question your beliefs.
When doubt first entered my mind, I was sure I would get through it and find the answers I felt I deserved and needed. The Lord has an established pattern in the way he deals with his people. When there are questions, the Lord has answers. I only wish this was the case. Joseph bugs the Lord all throughout the D&C about nonsense much of the time and gets direct revelation and answers. We’re at a place now where members are leaving the church in large numbers due to not being able to get answers to things they should be able to get answers to. The first presidency and 12 are silent about the issues facing the church whether doctrinal or historical. They let Farms and Fair do the dirty work. They let Farms and Fair look stupid instead.
It’s disheartening to see their silence, pretending there’s nothing wrong.
That’s what I meant by the statement, ” The defining moment occurs when the doubter finally realizes that even though the church has its arms wide open, its mouth is closed.”
No amount of love from my TBM family, friends or leaders can convince me to check my brain at the foyer.
Arms wide open, mouth shut tight.
October 28th, 2006 at 10:11 pm
What is all this brain massaging really about, anyway? This thing about Joseph Smith being either a holy prophet or a fraud, or the Church being either true or false, seems to me a ridiculous argument. The proposition is wrong!
What is the LDS Church really about in the first place? Isn’t about the Savior, Jesus Christ? Isn’t the true Church the unseen believers in Jesus Christ, whether they are in or out of ANY church? As I understand the scriptures (Bible), Jesus Christ is the head of the Church and the believers in Him are his body in the world, guided by His Holy Spirit. As far as Joseph Smith is concerned, he was no different than any other kind of prophet, all of whom were flawed human beings, who nevertheless God chose, despite their weaknesses and immaturity, to be His voice at various times. Joseph Smith should never have been a teacher or a leader of a movement. He should simply have stayed as an occasional mouthpiece for God. He should have left the doctrine and teachings to other qualified people with the appropriate spiritual gifts, who could have discerned as a team of checks and balances what was a truly prophetic utterance versues the excesses of his own fantasies and fabrications. Spiritual gifts are not given to the men using them; the men using them are the gifts to the people. Joseph’s prophetic gift was to be a gift to the people. Instead, he got puffed up, power hungery and wanted to be the whole show (leader, teader, controller, prophet, etc.) and his immature followers ended up worshiping him, rather than God. Every single believer in Christ has a spiritual gift of some kind to be used for the benefit for the whole body of believers.
As I see it, the Mormon Church has some truth as well as a lot of untruth. This Church seems to me like a child with the usual childhood diseases. Nevertheless, in the process of maturing, if it can receive proper care, nurishiment and training, it may yet become a true church of Christ.
October 28th, 2006 at 11:09 pm
Thanks for clarifying the “mouth closed” comment, Simeon. I generally agree. When I started having doubts, I turned to various Church sources (either in print or in person) and was largely met with blank stares, or told that I was asking the wrong question. I eventually stumbled upon FAIR and it was initially a breath of fresh air… I thought, “At least their trying to answer my questions!”, even if I was not always satisfied with their answers.
I think the Church recognizes that a lot of people struggle with questions, maybe today more than ever before. Their response seems to be to largely (although not entirely), as you say, “close their mouth” to controversial issues, and instead focus on pastoral concerns, saving souls. In a way this is admirable, the right thing to do. It shows some humility. It says, “Who cares about questionable issue A, B, and C… let’s focus on bringing people’s souls to Christ instead… let’s take the high road.” Great. But this cautious approach is employed selectively, and when convenient. I wish they’d use the same caution when talking about, say, whether or not homosexuality is a sin, or whether or not this is the one true church, and on and on…
October 28th, 2006 at 11:57 pm
I’ve been thinking more about this liminality thing…
First, I think we need to distiguish between:
1. Liminality with respect to Belief.
2. Liminality with respect to Church activity/participation.
I think we’ve been talking about both at the same time, when they are really two different things.
I think Liminality with respect to Belief follows the classic definition in the post, “The liminal state is characterized by ambiguity, openness, and indeterminacy. One’s sense of identity dissolves to some extent, bringing about disorientation. Liminality is a period of transition, during which your normal limits to thought, self-understanding, and behavior are relaxed, opening the way to something new,” and I would agree that this is a transitional phase, not a permanent phase.
People experience liminal states with respect to belief all throughout their lives. James Fowler’s Stages of Faith documents six such major transitional periods, but there can be several if not hundreds of individual liminal states within each stage too. Take the Book of Mormon, for example. A person who has never read the BoM may have a neutral feeling (or belief) about the book. Then he reads it and is moved by it to such an extent that he enters a liminal state, his neutrality may turn into belief that it is “true.” Later, that person may be exposed to something (i.e. DNA issues) that may make him question his belief. He enters another temporary liminal state, ultimately concluding, maybe: 1.) the book isn’t true; or 2.) the book is still ture, but may have several inaccuracies; or 3.) the book is not historically true, but it contains spiritual truths; or whatever…
One may or may not change his church activity based on each of the above liminal states. Ann and Simeon appear to have passed through many of the same liminal states with respect to belief, and have come to the same general conclusions, and yet one stayed and the other did not. I think Dave’s comment (#1) and to some degree John’s comment (#20) do a good job of illustrating some of the different levels of Church activity, although I’m not sure any one place in Dave’s “lecture hall” or John’s “concentric circles” can be called a liminal state — each are just different levels of activity (or inactivity). A liminal state with regards to activity would be a transitional phase where one moves from the front row to the back row, or from the back row to the foyer (Dave’s example), or from temple-going-and-active to non-temple-going-but-still-active (John’s example) and so on.
So I think we experience liminal states with respect to both Belief and Church Activity, though not necessarily simultaneously.
Answering my own questions…
No, I don’t think one can live a life in a liminal state, but I think one can experience a neverending series of liminal states throughout one’s life. (In other words, one gets on and off the pot over and over again.)
The benefits of such a life is sustained personal or spiritual growth. The liabilities of such a life can be pain, anger, disillusionment, family strife, etc. when liminal states lead to conclusions that are at odds with personal or family expectations.
Yes, the Church has room for Hamlets, though it (or its members) may be increasingly uncomfortable with them the further back they move in Dave’s Lecture Hall. However, equally important is the question of whether Hamlets have room for the Church?
October 29th, 2006 at 11:59 am
Aha! I see you’ve met my beautiful evangelical and strong willed wife, “Birgitta”. I’m glad she has taken an interest in our Mormon people and ventured to say something in this blog. It’s a good sign. I know of no one more committed and genuine in her faith than she. Her commitment and example of honesty and integrity keep me on my toes. She is both inspiration and challenge.
Matt: in looking at your two liminality aspects, it seems to me that the deeper issues are believing and belonging. It needn’t be a case of either/or.
Simeon: , having scanned your website, I know the hell you are feeling at losing your innocent belief and belonging. It is only a matter of time that your experience transcends to a higher, broader level. Stay with us. We need your candor and energy!
Ann: back to the dream thing. I was surprised that you don’t value your dreams more. I wonder if your subconscious–or that dreammaker part of you–isn’t disappointed at not being taken more seriously. I trust dreams to tell me the “truly true” of what I’m struggling with at the moment better than just about any other means of communicating with my inner self that I know, albeit they are typically couched in symbollic language. One has to dig–i.e., has to be genuinely interested–to find the meaning that is there. I have found that my dreams are usually cooperative in giving me the straight scoop. The key is WANTING to know them. Like a committed relationship, there is that inner part of us that is eager to be known, but only if we consciously truly want to know. It’s that simple. I left a message on your NOM site, but apparently you haven’t seen it yet.
Lisa: I don’t recall which of the guys in their Sunstone paper “Acquiring the Mind of God” points this out, but either Bill or Lou said he valued dreams because if gave him a clear reading on where to repent. I like that a lot and use dreans that way, myself. It’s much more direct and real than to have some Church authority or member push dogma on you. I have found that dreams fall into four broad categories: 1) transformative, 2) motivational, 3) anticipatory and 4) traumatic. The first type is rare and usually presents the dreamer with a clear teaching message. These kinds of dreams are not easily forgotten and can be accessed at any time for comfort and confirmation. There is no external “authority” that can match one’s inner reality for authenticity. (Of course you know all this.) The second type is the best for making changes (or “repenting”, as Bill or Lou put it). The third type often gives images to alert the dreamer to what may be coming. And the fourth is the type that demands attention–like a nightmare. If the dreamer has the courage to face the fear in it, the nightmare usually has an important message that can’t wait to be delivered. But these are usually pretty heavy laden and the dreamer needs knowlegeable others to help lift that burden. I’m sure you and Bill know all this in your hypnotherapy practise, so I’m talking to the choir. Would that there were more such therapists as you both among us. Is there an asociation around?