Redefining Mormon
By Stephen Carter on Nov 16, 2006
During the last half of my mission the cold Toronto winter started melting into spring. While it was still cold, my companion and I made it a habit to go to the bus stop on a busy intersection to contact people. I had a coat that had no good place to clip a nametag. So I clipped it to a pocket near the bottom of my coat.
I noticed that people were generally willing to talk with me. Until I told them about my job. The conversation usually ended there.
As the weather got warmer, I was tempted to take off my coat when I went out, but I realized that everyone would immediately identify me as a missionary, and that I would probably spend a lot of time trying to get conversations going with people who KNEW what I was after, and that it wasn’t going to be much fun.
I realized that what I really wanted was to just sit and talk with these people. I wanted to listen to them. But my job made it close to impossible.
Recently Christianity Today interviewed Richard Dutcher. It caused quite a stir on two Mormon discussion lists I belong to. One of the quotes that really made people raise their eyebrows goes as follows:
“I have a hard time now even when people ask me, “Are you Mormon?” I don’t know how to answer that anymore, because although the answer is technically “yes,” I know what those people have in their minds and the kind of box they put me in. It’s almost like you have to sit down and say, “Okay, well, let’s talk about what that means to you.” It’s like a giant philosophical discussion.”
What is that “box” people put us in? I got a glimpse of it in a class I took. We were reading Terry Tempest Williams’ Refuge. The discussion started off with everyone bashing the Mormons. The teacher was probably uncomfortable about this because he knew I was a Mormon, but I guess he saw that I was interested in the conversation, so he let it progress.
Finally, someone broke in and said, “Why is it if someone were bashing Jews or something, we’d get all politically correct and chew them out, but when it comes to Mormons, anything goes?”
Someone else responded in a way I haven’t forgotten, “We do it because the Mormons aren’t afraid of us. The Baptists (she was a Baptist) and the snake handlers, they stay to themselves. But the Mormons, they’ll assimilate you without a second thought.”
So, when I meet someone and they discover my denomination, I admit, all my mission frustrations come back to me. I’m sure these people are thinking, “Ooops, don’t talk to this guy about religion, he’s just waiting to pounce.” I wonder if a thousand interesting avenues to conversation haven’t just been closed.
When I think Mormon, I don’t think “listener,” I think “preacher.” (I also think the same thing when I think Baptist, by the way.)
A few days ago I was talking with an acquaintance that was helping me move (he got there when the Elder’s quorum didn’t). He had civilly cut ties with the Church a few years ago. He told me that he liked his position in the community now: the Mormons will talk with him because they know he understands the culture. And the non-Mormons will talk with him because they know he doesn’t go to church. So he gets to see the world from many different viewpoints.
He’s managed to find a conversational crossroads. He’s gone from being a “preacher” to being a “listener.”
So here’s my dilemma: I think my Mormon background is interesting. Its metaphors are worth wrestling with. But one of the most important things in my life is to establish meaningful communication with people. I wish I could call myself a Mormon without cutting those communication lines with others.
In other words, I wish the word Mormon had a different “box” than it has now. I’d just like to start with “listener” instead of “preacher.”
If you could redefine what Mormon means in the popular mind, how would you define it?
You could always market yourself as a hyphenated Mormon: a liberal Mormon or a cultural Mormon or a whatever Mormon, which probably prompts a response like, “Oh. I thought they were all the same.” There’s your conversation.
Comment # 1 by Dave | Nov 16, 2006 | Reply
Yah, but if you say something like, “I’m a feminist Mormon” or liberal Mormon or whatever, it’s still a conversation stopper (at least in my experience). It’s worked better for me if someone else reveals my unorthodox Mormon-ness and then the acquaintance can ask me more about it after they feel assured that I won’t proselyte to them.
FWIW, in my academic field (History of the American West) Mormons are well-regarded. A lot of my colleagues seem to respect me more after they know my religious background.
Comment # 2 by jana | Nov 16, 2006 | Reply
For the past five or so years I’ve belonged to a group that celebrates the Colorado Plateau through the arts. When I first started attending, both the Mormons, of which there were a few, and the unMormons asked me if I was Mormon. Neither group could tell from my writing. One member, who later became a friend, started going off one day on “Those crazy Mormons.” More out of a desire to prevent her embarassing herself than to defend my religion, which I didn’t perceive as needing defended from a casual opinion, I said, “I’m one of those crazy Mormons.” My friend was stunned. “How come I didn’t know that?” she asked. Those words sounded something like an accusation, a “Why didn’t you just come right out and tell me before this” kind of statement. Well, it had never come up before, which is what I said. And I left her free to make of the information what she would.
I don’t understand the Mormon need to corral defintions of their character and beliefs. Of course, I’m a convert and I’ve never been on a mission, so maybe I’m lacking critical information. But I trust people to make of my religion what they will–including the Mormons who have trouble identifying me right off as Mormons. I see no purpose in taking it personally when people express anger or fear toward Mormonism because IMO that anger or fear probably has roots in something else and they’ve selected Mormonism as a proximate cause for their trouble just as when Mormons select nonMormons or what they identify as “unMormon beliefs or behavior” for proximate causes of their troubles. That’s a more complicated idea than it appears to be, so please don’t think I’m dismissing anybody’s feelings, because I’m not. I just prefer to go for the creative, proactive, productive language that the end-stopped language.
Being deeply attracted to people as I am, meaningful communication lies at the heart of all my interactions, so I get what you want. Just do it. Do it! People of all sorts like it when someone really listens to and thinks with them. Let the defintions take care of themselves. I don’t think the box is very important–it’s just an artifact of some kind of cultural activity. But that’s just me. I have had enough of what I thought I knew disintegrate before my eyes as some phoenix of new, sometimes prayed for and sometimes unprayed for, insight has transfixed me and urged my approach that I allow myself all kinds of wiggle room on definitions. I allow others even more room. Seems fair.
Comment # 3 by Patricia Karamesines | Nov 17, 2006 | Reply
My wife and I were at a neighborhood party talking with one of our newer neighbors, a former astronaut, when he suddenly put two and two together and discovered we were Mormons. “What kind of Mormons are you?” he asked. I was so taken aback I couldn’t think of a proper answer. My wife was quicker on her feet: “The kind who leave you alone,” she said. “Great,” the man said, and we were great friends from then on.
Comment # 4 by TonyP | Nov 17, 2006 | Reply
The term, “Mormon,” has gone through some rather bizarre twists and turns of late. Church leaders don’t want anyone–especially the media–referring to “the Mormon church.” On the other hand, the style sheet provided by the church says that “Mormon” can be used as an adjective describing individual members of the church, or aspects of the church’s culture. A search of trademarks reveals that Intellectual Reserve, the church’s IP arm, tried to trademark the use of the term, but later abandoned their application. Finally, if you really want to see the suits in SLC get their undies in a bunch, try referring to members of any of the many break-offs and/or fundamentalist groups as “Mormons.” It seems The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has a strange love-hate relationship with the word, most of which is PR-driven.
Several years before having my name removed from the records of the church, I began to distinguish between “Mormonism” vs. “LDS-ism,” simply because the modern church’s teachings bear so little resemblance anymore to the religion founded by Joseph Smith. I considered myself a “Mormon,” but “LDS” in name only. These days, I still claim some connection to Mormonism, in the sense that I’ve carried forward useful things I gained from Joseph Smith—unfortunately, not one of those things has a place in the modern LDS church.
If I could redefine “Mormon” in the public eye, it would be to make it a reflection of doctrine and practice, rather than of a culture that borders on ethnicity. “Mormon” should be a description of beliefs, not of a right-wing conservative American lifestyle.
Comment # 5 by Nick Literski | Nov 17, 2006 | Reply
I’m curious–where are you that being Mormon is a conversation stopper? It never was when I lived in Southern California, and hasn’t been in DC. Actually, in light of Big Love. Mitt Romney, and Under the Banner of Heaven, it’s been a great starting point. Most people I come in contact with have some sort of starting point on Mormons, and are interested in how I see their take. (I realize a professional or social conversation is different than a missionary conversation, but few reading these blogs are in “missionary” mode) (I hope).
Comment # 6 by Sam B | Nov 17, 2006 | Reply
As one of two Mormons in a Private Southern Baptist Law School, I have struggled with the box that we, regardless of personal individuality, are placed into because of our choice of faith. I have never been a traditional “Mormon,” and chose to leave Utah because I felt the “culture” was not conducive to my faith.
Mainly, I have never been able to handle the homogeneous thought process and unquestioning aspect of our culture. Whenever certain topics arise, like gay marriage for example, there is no conversation amongst our member. Rather, a short, talking-point oriented, blurb is inserted only after a glossy look comes over the face of “listener.” This does little to help those in our midst to truly understand and cope with such sensitive issues within the confines of our faith. It also makes it hard for those outside of our faith to include us in discussions of issues such as faith precisely because we have no desire to understand their viewpoint or even find some hint of validity therein. We, as Mormons, tend to bring preconceived responses to conversations that beg for more. Consequently, others pick up on our lack of interest in their viewpoints and they immediately go on the offensive, vigorously trying to validate their viewpoints in the midst of our insincere pompous responses.
It is the lack of true listening, listing without a sincere desire to understand the viewpoints of our conversational partners that has defined our cultural box.
Back to my experience in Law School, as I said there are two Mormons, myself, a very non-traditional Mormon and another who is the panicle of mainstream Mormonism. Both of us were in the same Constitutional Law class. The professor, a well-known criminal defense attorney and philosopher, had one major premise that he brought to every question; “yes” and “not yes” were the parameters he set. Both could be true independently, simultaneously, simply by the reference of the individual. Obviously, it was the life experience of the individual that determined that starting point.
A conversation could always be had when people could get themselves out of the “door of or” (you or I only is correct) and place themselves in the “land of and” were the conversations begins with the possibility both are correct and trying to reason to a common connection. This type of response creates common ground that imitates meaningful conversation. (It also seems to be the foundation for the American legal system)
Understandably, for a Mormon, this potentially presents a problem; our culture is based on the assumption that “they” (the whore of all the earth) are wrong while “we” are right. This is where the other Mormon and I diverge. He bought in the potential problem and he refused to except the “land of and” while he blindly tried to remain in the “door of or.” Consequently, I constantly have to rebuild bridges that he burns by the intolerance he leaves in the minds of others. He is the preacher and not the listener.
There is little common ground to build a conversational relationship when your understanding of the other is that he has no desire to understand you and wants only your assimilation. Let alone how does one teach the gospel from a perceived position of superiority when the Master himself did not teach from such a position. Arguably, the position of love that Christ spoke from was this “land of and.” It encouraged conversation, not because Christ forced his superior status on people, rather he cared for the individual. Inevitably, this requires true understanding and listening.
We don not have to live in the “door of or” when we discuss our religion nor our cultural lifestyle. If we try to maneuver our conversations in the “land of and” and avoid the “door of or” our conversations can be more about listing and less about assimilation. I have had several meaningful religious conversations where I am able to “testify” (for a severe lack of a better expression) to my religious beliefs as well as being able to engage others in conversations that flow from a different viewpoint, merely because the “land of and” requires you to listen. In the end you are able to these conversations that edify both you and your conversational partner to the point that they no longer look at you as a threat, rather a sincere seeker of truth.
Brigham Young once wrote that in the future we would be taught gospel truths from strangers. My constitutional law professor must be one of those strangers because little has done more for my faith than trying to understand this “land of and” and remove myself from the “door of or.”
Comment # 7 by Jared | Nov 17, 2006 | Reply
Thank you again for your continuing thoughtful and frank conversation. Soon I hope to have time to read more and have some meaning full response. Andrew
Comment # 8 by andrew jensen | Nov 17, 2006 | Reply
Interesting comments Jared. The “door of or” and “land of and” are just catchy enough that maybe they’ll help me out the quagmire I find myself in at church. Maybe when the conversation gets too quagish, I can say, “Hey are we at the “door of or” or the “land of and” here?
In answer to Sam’s question, most of the people who put me in a box are my fellow Mormons. When they find out I’m a Mormon they make all kinds of assumptions about who I am and what I believe. I’d like to take Jana’s advice and call myself a liberal Mormon, but I’m afraid that would do me no good in a town where everyone except myself is a member of the NRA.
Comment # 9 by Stephen Carter | Nov 20, 2006 | Reply
Here’s something fascinating i found over at Motley Vision:
Lastly, I want to mention a game we used to play in a chatroom which was frequented by friends and acquaintences, with also occasional random new people. Some of us would take a new name each time we went into this chatroom, in order to explore the process of how we recognize one another, and who we really are. (Where does the me-ness reside?) One thing that occasionally happened was that we would have deep and fruitful conversations with people we didn’t know we knew, conversations that would never have taken place if we had known who each other were to start with. Because we had already pigeonholed someone, we had mentally made them smaller than they were, and meeting them again as strangers allowed for some interesting insights into facets of their personalities that we never knew were there.
So I suppose the summary of my comment is this: Who the artist is as a person, their family life, their church status, their whole personality, is important to understanding what their work means. However, we should allow the work to speak to us and tell us who the artists are, rather than prejudging them based on surface qualities. People are complex and nuanced, and deeper than we usually imagine, and miss a lot if we let ourselves pigeonhole them, and possibly dismiss them unheard.
Comment # 10 by Stephen Carter | Nov 20, 2006 | Reply
When I read Dutcher’s interview, I knew exactly what he was talking about. I actually do what you did on your missionI don’t tell people I’m Mormon. I let them see that I am a “listener” and not a preacher. Then, whatever ideas about Mormons they bring to the table, they are dispelled, at least to the extent that they communicate with me.
Comment # 11 by Austin Frost | Nov 22, 2006 | Reply
I think the negative view of Mormons comes from the nearly universal association of Mormon with the institutional LDS Church and, from there, with Utah culture.
But technically memebrs of the Community of Christ (RLDS) are also Mormons; so are members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints–Strangeites (in Michigan); so are the Church of Christ–Temple Lot (in Independence, Mo.). That these other Mormon denominations are muich smaller does not mean that their claims to being Mormon are any less valid.
In January of 2003, I made the decision to leave the LDS Church. Since returning to activity in 1994, after eleven years away, I was stunned to find how the institutional LDS Church (and LDS culture) had drifted even further toward Christian fundamentalism and the political/social Religious Right. The LDS communtiy seemd to have become even more monolithic than I remembered it from my days at BYU in the late 70’s and early 80’s. By June of 2002, I decided to go inactive. I simply could no longer pretend that I fit in the mold that LDS culture seemed to be imposing on everyone. And I was stunned by the ignorance of most LDS Church member regarding Mormon history, the distinctive elements of Mormon theology and Christianity/religion in general.
A year after leaving the LDS Church, I learned about Reform Mormonism. I have become active in that denomination. It is small, but growing. Reform Mormonism basically accepts the Nauvoo-era theology of Joseph Smith as a new religion, completely distinct from Christianity and the Mormon theology of the early and mid-1830’s. Rejecting fundamentalism, scriptural literalism, and the Kirtland-era restorationist doctrines ( the Only True Church doctrine, and the resortation of the Priesthood), Reform Mormonism is built on the Nauvoo-era doctrines of a limited God and Eternal Progression.
I am teaching college this year in one fo the western states. There is a large LDS population here. Yet when I discuss Reform Mormonism with non-Mormons here, they are positively impressed with Mormonism–most of them for the first time. (Most of them have LDS relatives and grew up with a majority of LDS friends and acquaintances.)
Once fundamentalism, authoritarianism and scriptural literalism are put aisde; once the truth about the Mormon past is accepted critically and one begins to draw lessons from those Mormon historical events that were inspiring in some instances and shameful in other, Mormonism can be a rich, enlightening and progressive religion in the way that the “policies” and “progranms” of the LDS institution could never be….a least for me and the countless other who leave the LDS Church each year. The people to whom I make reference leave the LDS Church not because they are laboring in “spiritual darkness,” not because they don’t “get it,” but because they DO “get it,” and they find the LDS perscription for spirituality, morality and godliness to be shalllow and unfulfilling.
Comment # 12 by Rob Lauer | Nov 24, 2006 | Reply
I believe Rob is correct about what “Mormon” has come to mean these days. For me it is broader than that.
I prefer Clifton Jolley’s version, as he laments in his 2006 SL Sunstone Symposium paper, where he calls Mormons (of all stripes) “The People of the Book”.
I know, I know, there other folks out there who use those same words to refer to their “Book” (Bible, Koran, I Ching, Bhagavad-Gita, etc.). There is something about the Book of Mormon that affects people who have once read it seriously with an open heart and mind and accepted it as something “true” (whatever that means). They are who I would call “The People of the Book”. OK, so you might have become LDS, RLDS, FLDS, Reform Mormon, anti-Mormon, ex-Mormon, post-Mormon, etc., etc., in the meantime. There is nevertheless a language bond that exists among us folks.
For me it is a matter of spiritual kinship, as strange as it might become. Personally, I’m busily working to heal and restructure whatever ruptures, corruptions or misundertandings there might be to my own interior experience of those kinship bonds. That’s all inner work and all I can see to do. Whatever happens in our Mormon society (i.e., the exterior reality) is certainly not my call. That belongs to anybody who reads and responds to comments like these and then does his/her own inner work. Forget about changing anybody or anything else!
[BTW, Rob, I tried to email you several times some weeks ago, but it always bounced. You got a new address?]
Comment # 13 by Eugene Kovalenko | Nov 25, 2006 | Reply
Eugene,
My email address is the same: rlauernyc@aol.com. Look forward to hearing from you.
Comment # 14 by Rob Lauer | Nov 26, 2006 | Reply
After reading the above comments, I have a question. What has driven the church away from the liberalism of David O. Mckay into the arms of the conservative coalition? I just don’t see Christ as a conservative listening to the likes of Rush Limbaugh. What has happened?
Comment # 15 by p. krop | Dec 3, 2006 | Reply
P. Crop. Comment #15
Excellent question! What I see has happened is that the “law” got bent while McKay was still alive, but too old and ill to either see the subversion of it or do anything about it. That “law” was the principle of the primacy of personal conscience. Christ speaks to us all who listen from within, not from without. McKay understood this. His successors seem not to have understood, except perhaps Spencer Kimball when he spoke about the “personal Liahona”.
Comment # 16 by Eugene Kovalenko | Dec 4, 2006 | Reply