For the Birthday Boy

Today is Alvin Cutler Van Orden's birthday. I'd intended (and still intend) to send him a package with three gifts. Since I got sick last week, the package is yet waiting to be assembled. In lieu of said package, I have assembled a simple cipher detailing the promised presents. I've embedded it in the absurdly forced paragraph below.

"Who enjoys bingo, war, uno, obsessive uno, DJs, and jedi-ing puzzles of risks? Alvin! Going jedi pleases, and so jump on your not-actual gift (if you can open it). Best, PBJ."

Sorry for the ridiculousness, but it seriously took me forever to come up with something into which I could embed the cipher. I also checked my journal for what I thought of Alvin back in the day. Here's what I had to say:

"Alvin is quiet, humble, intelligent, active spiritual and a great example...He's a really great guy and I've learned a lot about stretching my limits and magnifying my calling from his challenges to do push-ups, read scriptures, sing hymns, etc. He's a wonderful roommate."

Happy birthday, Alvin. Hopefully you crack the code before the present itself arrives.



P.S.- Here are a few cipher parameters that will simplify the decoding process: I/IV/I.

Canon, Doctrine, Truth and all that

I've been teaching Sunday School for the past year and half, and several of the issues raised in the discussion so far have come up repeatedly in class. I'll give my thoughts on just a couple.

1) Canon, doctrine and truth:
Millet, as Rob points out, gives a fairly simple test of what is "doctrine." Is it in the standard works? Is it in the teaching materials? Is it in recent conference talks? This is, to me, somewhat interesting. In his conception, "doctrine" is a superset of "canon" (which I take, I feel with good justification, to be the four standard works). He doesn't include (at least not explicitly) numerous other materials generated within the church like non-general conference talks (talks given at regional or stake conferences, for instance), church publication articles, books written by general authorities, Michael McLean soundtracks, and a host of other materials available from the church distribution center (with an easy to use order form sent out with your Ensign :)). He rather explicitly excludes arcane teachings, like the troublesome statements in the Journal of Discourse.

So, Millet proposes a two-tiered approach to the acceptability of teachings which I personally feel is over-simplifiedl; it's doctrine or it's not, with not much gray area in between. Perhaps he doesn't really feel this way, but believes its the simplest method of dealing with Christians unfamiliar with the various forms of church discourse, but I think it misses important points. Other Christians are very familiar with the "authoritativeness" questions; they get questioned again and again about why some verses in the Bible are "more true" than others. They also have to balance teachings of modern preachers against personal interpretations of scripture. It seems to me like approaching questions about arcane teachings of past prophets with that common framework is a better way to bridge gaps than to simply say "we don't teach that, so it isn't doctrine (even if one of our prophets once said it)."

2. Institutional versus Personal Revelation:
This builds a bit off the last point. The question often arises about where Truth lies, and how we can get at it. Rob mentions the promise, based on Sec 107 and backed up by many presidents of the church, that if you follow the majority of the twelve you will not go astray. That's comforting inasfar as it goes, and I have no intention of ever deviating from following the Apostles and Prophets. But...

Personal revelation must needs be in constant tension with institutional revelation. In theory it seems truth should be truth, regardless of how it is received. And we should always be able to pray and receive confirmation of revealed truths. Except often I've met sincere people who have struggled with contradictory revelations. Faithful members who pray and receive revelation that homosexuality is not a sin. Investigators who pray and receive revelation that the Book of Mormon is not true. And because of the primacy we give in the church to personal revelation I often have no recourse in such discussions but to bear my own testimony (that homosexuality is a sin, that the Book of Mormon is true) and assure them that somehow both things must be simultaneously true.

I could go on at length about truth and certainty and probably sneak in some Bayesian probability theory, but I won't.

3. Can truth change?
Faced with prophetic teachings about blackness and the mark of Cain or the essentiality of polygamy for exaltation or any number of other doctrines that were once widely believed by the church (including by its leaders) to be true and now are not, it seems to me that simply saying "that's not doctrine since we no longer teach it" is insufficient.

With regards to the practical aspects and policy positions of the church, I can understand how they might change. Men of African descent weren't given the Priesthood; now they are. There's no necessary contradiction between that and an unchangeable God revealing his will through Prophets if we accept that practices are often defined by the time in which we find ourselves (c.f. Word of Wisdom). I can reconcile things being "alright" at one point and "not alright" at another; their fundamental nature didn't change, but the environment surrounding them did, and the "goodness" or "badness" is inherently a factor of the interaction with the environment, not the object itself. Wow...that's way too unclear, even for me. Really I just mean that practices may change because of differences in the world where they occur, rather than with God.

But doctrinal statements aren't like practice (or, IMO they shouldn't be). I usually conceive of them as existing in a non-physical plane. So, for example, Millet's explanation that prophetic teachings of blood atonement were just overheated rhetoric originating from mid-19th century Mormon revivalism doesn't sit well with me. It cheapens doctrine, in a sense, making it instrumental rather than primal, as if the point of prophetic teachings isn't to illuminate, only to persuade to action. Maybe that's the right way to view it, but it will take me a lot of thinking and questioning before I'm willing to accept that model.

So this post makes it sound like I spend all my time questioning the fundamental epistemological soundness of the Church. I don't. Really, I think I've come to the same uneasy equilibrium as most of you. Some things don't make sense to me, but that's because of my limited perspective, and I'll just do my best to follow both the Prophets and my own conscience and hope they don't conflict too often. And if/when they do, I'll do my best to choose what's right and trust in God to deal with me justly.

If it ain't broke

I haven't read the book, but these posts have been intersting and refreshing to me, and I wanted to thank everyone for sharing.  I'd like to try to put into words my approach to handling tough gospel questions, which I'm sure bears some commonality with the approaches you all have shared.

I think I've gradually come to a position that is best described as a cross of "by their fruits you shall know them" and "if it ain't broke, don't tinker with it."  That is to say, I follow the gospel because I've seen it work countless times in so many lives--most importantly, my own.  To spend much time wrestling with peripheral church history or doctrinal issues is, for me, counter-productive.

This is not to say that I turn a blind eye to any and all hard questions, but rather to clarify that questions of historical authenticity and leadership fallibility tend not to worry me much, because my testimony of the gospel has almost nothing to do with either issue.

This perspective makes many members of the church uncomfortable.  As a church, we are brought up investing so much of our testimony in the tenet that God guides this Church directly through his prophets, that to question an apostle or even a general authority seems sacrosanct--as if we're questioning God Himself.  After all, if you start to question one thing that one prophet said, it's only natural to question other things other prophets said, including Joseph Smith.  It's a slippery and dangerous slope.

But that's where I find myself at times.  I have way too much trouble, for instance, justifying the withholding of the priesthood from blacks with some sort of hypothetical cost/benefit consideration that finally shifted 30 years ago.  Could there have been cost/benefit considerations at play in the mind of the Lord?  Yes.  But it seems equally likely to me that our prophets and apostles were/are susceptible to errors in judgment.

I don't believe that errors in judgment necessarily constitute fraud, even if an individual attributes the judgment to the Lord.  I think that all individuals, no matter who they are, have trouble differentiating sometimes between divine guidance and personal feeling.  And perhaps in some cases, the Lord achieves great works through individuals who are somewhat mistaken about what it is they are doing--e.g. is there any harm to the belief that, while Joseph Smith thought he was translating papyrus, in reality he was simply a conduit for scriptural material that the Lord wanted us to have?  Then again, I would not be surprised to find out that orthodox versions of problematic events are in fact authentic.  For example, I think there are enough plausible explanations out there that any rational person could reasonably entertain the idea that Joseph Smith actually translated the Book of Abraham.

So how do you know what is error and what is not?  Well, in many cases, it's irrelevant.  For example, how the Book of Abraham came to be does not change the real-life effect that the Book of Abraham has on me right now.  And therefore, it does not matter to me how the Book of Abraham came to be.  I do not need to have faith that the Book of Abraham is an 100% authentic translation, rather I just need to have faith in the teachings found therein.

What happens if I find myself at odds on a position that requires some sort of action (see my Prop 8 posts from last year).  Do I give the benefit of doubt to church leaders, even though my gut instinct is that they are wrong?  Or do I trust my gut and assume the leadership is wrong?  In either case, I think the willingness to admit to oneself that "the Church being true" is not synonomous with church leaders always being correct actually facilitates a very healthy response, as long as one is also willing to 1) admit as much or even more doubt in one's own opinion; and 2) not let the issue become a distraction from following more important teachings.

What would I do if I was at odds with a position that had a more personal impact?  I have, after all, core beliefs that I don't see myself ever changing.  And by core, I mean beliefs that have a real-life, personal impact, such as "thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself."  I think it goes without saying that I would have to leave the Church if it ever expressly taught us not to love our neighbors.  I just have faith that I, personally, will never be at odds with the Church over those core beliefs.  But I know some people who have core beliefs that are fundamentally at odds with the Church, and I would think less of them if they stayed in the Church while having those beliefs.

Could the effect I perceive the gospel as having in my life be, as Alvin warns, a placebo effect?  I think any rational person has to admit this possibility.  Even though I have faith that the gospel isn't a placebo, it would be dishonest to myself not to leave my mind open to the possibility that my faith is misplaced.  But the anecdotal evidence seems to point to the fact that it isn't a placebo effect, and  I see no compelling reason to change my beliefs just to find out if there is a difference.

The biggest challenge to me has been figuring out how, approaching the gospel from this angle, I should approach interactions with others, both inside the church and outside.  How do I tell a new member, for instance, that of course the Book of Mormon is true, but it doesn't matter whether Joseph was really translating the Book of Abraham?  Do I just offer plausible explanations, and hope that they take one of those and run with it, or is there a way to help them see that the issue is, in reality, nothing more than a distraction?

"Finally" Getting at the Truth

I always seem to end up in conversations about my faith and its practices. Most often the discussions are amiable and uplifting. Occasionally they take a wrong turn and I or the other person take something personal and get a little defensive. When people ask me difficult to answer questions...I love it! My faith and understanding has increased and has become more deeply rooted. I seem to recognize God's hand more powerfully in the lives of people of other beliefs.

Ryan and Bro. Millet are good examples of reaching out to those of other faiths and building on common beliefs. I appreciate that aspect of this book a great deal. One of the principles that this book taught me, and which I fall back on all the time, is "what is our doctrine?" I like the limits of what our doctrine really is according to Millet...what is in our standard works, what is taught in our church curriculum today, and what is taught at general conference today. All the mysterious things that Brigham Young said or taught, that currently are not taught, are off limits to anti-Mormon's for criticism, because they are not still being taught. Does that mean Bro. Brigham was wrong? Maybe, maybe not.

Another aspect of this book I really liked was his conversation with his Baptist friend about accepting Jesus and knowing the Bible is true. How does one come to this point? Often in the church we are caught up in explaining the Holy Ghost by using the metaphors related to "feelings". My lawyer Church of Christ friend says that we crazy Mormons are just confused about our "feelings". I have stated to her that the Holy Ghost is so much more than feelings, but that our language is often limited to metaphors, and that is why we describe spiritual confirmations to others as feelings. I asked her how she came to know Jesus was her Savior. She said, "The Bible tells me so." How do you know the Bible is true? "Because there is empirical evidence that it is true." ...this from an attorney!? I tell her that I feel bad that she doesn't accept her witness of Christ as having been a personal witness and manifestation of the Holy Ghost. I have talked with other Catholic and Baptist friends who have had deep personal spiritual witnesses that Christ is their Savior. I know they really had those experiences. We LDS don't have a corner on the market for spiritual experiences...we just have the fullness of the Gospel for them to come and build upon.

I have used this book for the last couple of years as a reference tool along with many other sources like the standard works, other church publications, and even fairlds.org to help answer difficult gospel challenges. It has been richly rewarding.

responding to challenging questions about church

Hi,
I haven't been participating for awhile, sorry about that. I enjoyed reading Alvins little post on the book by Millet, which I haven't read. But I have thought about the points about difficult questions about the church. My perspective is that before delving into all the these details and weighing evidence, etc, it's useful to ask, "Can the Church be proven to be not true". I like this question. When I ask it to Mormons the answer is almost always "no". If the answer is no, then it's really no use in losing much sleep over doctrinal issues or disturbing historical facts, etc. If the answer is yes, then before you make a serious study of these things, you have some idea of what kind of fact would prove the church isn't true. I haven't been able to come up with one that is very good. One person recommended to me that if the church ever asks me to do something that is wrong or bad, then that would show it's not true. But this isn't very satisfying to me. I could be a Methodist all my life without being asked to do something wrong.

So at this point, my working hypothesis is that it's impossible to prove the church wrong, and we live in a world of faith, and a world of hope, doing the best we can. I believe that we, humanity, are waiting for something more. From my reading of the scriptures and my understanding of what science is, I believe that the strongest truth claims are those that allow themselves to be proven false when contrary evidence arises. I think this is beautifully illustrated in the story of Elijah. The sin of the priests of Baal was that their belief in their false gods could not be proven wrong, regardless of any physical evidence that Elijah was able to show. If Elijah had failed to bring the fire from heaven, then he would have less cause for condemning the priests for their unbelief. there are many examples in the scriptures in which the prophets put themselves on a limb and say effectively, "if such and such doesn't happen then you don't have to believe me." I'm thinking of Nephi and prediction of the death of the chief judge, and samuel the lamanite saying that Christ would come in 5 years.

Similar patterns hold in Science. The laws that we are most certain of are those that we know how to disprove. I know how to disprove the law of energy conservation, I just have to find one repeatable experiment where it doesn't hold. Relativity makes predictions, precision calculations that can be quantified. These can be used to predict future events with precision. These predictions can be brilliant like when somebody (Einstein I think?) predicted that relativity predicted that some astronomical event would be late by like 3 minutes or something. And he was right! Prophets in the scriptures have claimed the ability to make accurate predictions of the future, to heal people, to transport people large distances, to see into people's minds and hearts, to save and take life in large quantities, etc. Our prophets of today set a really high standard for themselves by claiming an equal footing with the prophets of the past. Today we see all of these "powers" being performed by "Godless" scientists. Many in the church would say that the scientists are inspired by God without knowing it. Maybe that's true, but if all of this great science is inspired by God it's important not to be dismissive about it. For example one should take evolution seriously, and not dismiss it as nothing. Evolution is a great example of something that does raise profound questions about God and faith and what it means to be human, but most Mormons are convinced that these questions are irrelevant to their existence, and I think this is unfortunate. Joseph Smith was a great prophet because he took the major dilemmas of the day, the really big problems, and he made sense of them, he resolved the problems for those peoplpe. How can we proselyte to the world when we refuse to even understand the questions that they are asking? How can we learn if our attitude is that "If we don't understand it, then it isn't important." This latter belief is taught quite often in church, if you listen carefully.

I've written much, and I should stop, but I'll add one more point: I've studied how scientists work and I live it, and the methods and values of science are very different from the methods of faith, as I've learned them in the church. I could write for a long time about these differences, but not here.

Also, I would like to say something about outreach, I have been attending a bible study group at a methodist church with a bunch of older men, mostly retired. Many are former academics. The discussion is frank and honest and I really have been enjoying it, learning how others think, and it has developed my faith. In some ways it is more nurturing to my faith as a Mormon than listening services at my own church. It took a lot of courage for me to get involved with this group, so if you are thinking about doing something similar, I would highly recommend it.

Thanks for reading this, and have a great day!
Ryan Larsen

Responding to Difficult Questions

With apologies to Bro. Mortensen, I'm going to start the September book discussion (on Nov. 3) before my ancient brain forgets any more.

I took a class from Robert Millet at BYU, and the one lecture I remember is when he played a radio clip of some pastor from another church. Millet thought this radio pastor had particularly insightful comments on the Mary and Martha story. I can still hear the pastor loudly proclaim, "The Master was in the house!!" My point is that Millet is sincere in his beliefs about outreach between our church and others (in case you doubted). I certainly agree that we (Mormons in general) do need to get out more.

I enjoyed the book, though I really had to force myself not to skim over large sections of the book where Millet discussed questions to which I felt I already had an answer. In fact, I read the book not seeking to see how I could answer other people's questions, but how I could answer some of my own questions. I don't think I've ever been asked truly difficult questions from non-Mormons, but I have been asked some tricky questions from Mormons and ex-Mormons.

There were a couple of questions that Millet raised that I wish he had explored further, and since he didn't I'm going to raise them here. I can't quote him exactly because I no longer have the book.

1. Why should we trust feelings/answers to prayers as a means for knowing the truth? Millet makes an excellent point about how he feels sorry for those that don't have that feeling. That knowledge without the spirit is empty. I agree. We need to feel what is right and be able to get answers. BUT, I think that's an incomplete answer.

For my job, I tell people every day about the dangers of the placebo effect. It's powerful, and people can clearly feel things because they think they're supposed to or because they want to, etc. We have many examples in early church history of false revelations. People thought they were following the spirit, but Joseph told them it was a false or evil spirit. Even today in the church I often see members feel impressed to do something they didn't want to do, and it turns out poorly.

Yes, we must have the feelings of the spirit to really know what is truth. However, our feelings can be, and often are, misinterpreted, so I guess it seems like a sandy foundation. Having had a good friend that came to church for years, had the discussions, prayed and didn't get an answer, I wish there was a good back-up plan.

2. What about the Book of Abraham and the scrolls found in a museum? Millet asserts that the scrolls found could not be the originals because they aren't long enough and don't fit the descriptions in church histories. This was the first time I heard this theory. I had been told in a BYU institute class that the scrolls found were the same scrolls that Joseph Smith had. The teacher (a BYU religion professor) said the scrolls found had some sketches of temple plans on the back. The institute teacher's theory was that the translation of the scrolls was much like Joseph Smith's translation of the Bible. It wasn't really a translation at all. The scrolls just served as something to trigger Joseph Smith to receive inspiration from the Lord. I must say that I like Millet's theory better. It certainly cleans up a lot of other questions. Any thoughts on this one way or the other?

3. How do you account for the church's changing positions and early church history? Now, I'm a bit hazy now on what Millet said on this, but I do want to bring it up as a point of discussion. Personally, I don't lose a lot of sleep over blacks and the priesthood, polygamy, and more recently, changes to the temple ceremony. All of the changes have been changes for the better. If I remember right, Millet said that none of these changes were doctrinal changes, defining doctrine as something in the standard works.

While this isn't an issue for me, it is an area where I start to get defensive. The 'Are Mormons Christians?' questions don't phase me at all, but when I get serious questions about our beliefs on polygamy, I get uncomfortable. Non-Mormons will usually drop the issue if you just explain we don't believe that any more, but my good friend that is semi-Mormon has more persistent questions about it. For example, why did Joseph Smith marry someone that was already married and why was he so secretive and why don't we teach the full truth about these things in Sunday school... Again, I don't lose sleep over these things, but I do think there are a lot of issues that don't have clean answers. I think this book can make you think there are good answers to every question, but if there are, I haven't heard them all yet.

Doug, my county didn't have your book, but fortunately, I also have a library card for the county next door and I'll be picking up the audio book on Thursday. I'm looking forward to it.

November 2009 Book

So for November's book, I propose that we read "Complications," by Atul Gawande. The book was a National Book Award finalist, so I'm assuming it should be readily available. It's a quick read, but I think very interesting and full of good insight about health care today. Besides, I want you guys to get a peek into my world.

Also, there have been few posts lately. It might be good if you all reply to this post so that we get an informal count of who is engaged with the PVS at present.

Happy reading, and careful with that scalpel...

The Future of the PVS Book Club

While we're waiting for Robert to collect his thoughts on the September book of the month, can someone (Peter?) tell me who is in charge of picking the books for October/November, and December?

The Road less traveled (thank goodness)

I listened to this from start to finish on Saturday. It was a bit intense and fairly disturbing. Long ago I read The Running Man, by Stephen King writing as Richard Bachman. The Road brought back memories of Running Man, probably because of the sense of hopelessness that the author creates around his character. I was glad that this book had a happier ending than Running Man.

Thoughts, in no particular order:

• The thought that went through my head as I read about the bomb shelter with the food storage and other emergency supplies was, "I wonder if they were Mormon?" I look back and laugh that I actually thought that.
  
• When the father and son visited the childhood home of the father, the father mentions a Christmas passed. I expected the son to ask, "What's Christmas?" but he doesn't. Did that surprise anyone else? I can't envision them having had celebrated a post-apocalyptic Christmas.
• Speaking of religion, the topic comes up a few times in the book, especially towards the end. The man seems to have had some religious upbringing, but it didn't seem like he had passed on much in the way of doctrine to the boy, though his son certainly had a solid moral compass.
• Like Alvin, I pictured the boy being about 8 years old. I'm not sure how long it look them to get to the coast, but the boy seemed to mature during the coarse (intentionally misspelled) of their journey. He started getting uncomfortable with his did staring at him. He would be irritable or uncommunicative at times. To me this indicates either maturity accellerated by scenes and experiences that children shouldn't have to endure, or the approach of adolescence (10-12). This role has to potential to launch the career of the next Haley Joel Osmet. I just did an imdb search on the movie; I hadn't heard of Kodi Smit-McPhee, but I'm guessing Hollywood will see more of him int he future.
• The saddest/scariest part of the book for me was when the dad was trying to explain when/how to commit suicide. That should NOT be part of a father to son talk.
  

Not the bio I was looking for

I was expecting something more along the lines that Sister Dewey wrote about Gordon B. Hinckley. This book was more of an analysis of the Church with David O. McKay as a point of reference. The first and the last chapters were more of the biography that I was looking for. Perhaps if it was written more linearly rather than categorically, I might have been satisfied. Part of the problem for me was that some things were repeated as they crossed over into the history of multiple topics (eg. the chapter on communism, the chapter on politics).

Some things that surprised me were similar to what others have already mentioned: McKay's tolerance of others' viewpoints, the collisions of opinions between General Authorities (while reading the book I wondered if these clashes made it difficult for some of them to be involved with certain prayers in the temple), Ernest Wilkinson ('nuf said), Ezra Taft Benson's persistance in certain matters and McKay's change of decision from Benson's influence. Some of the authors' depictions made the leadership in the church appear to me like the top level management of a large corporation.

I look forward to talking with my Dad about this book and his recollections of this period. Like Peter, I wonder if the members of the Church viewed things as Miss Middlemis did. Given her proximity to things, I'm sure that they didn't.

A question I have, and maybe one of you can add some insight, is about a comment the authors made in the chapter about The Church and Blacks. The book claims that Joseph Smith ordained some blacks to the priesthood, but the authors left no supporting reference.

September book of the Month?

Hopefully there are still a few people thinking about commenting on The Road, but I'm ready to turn my attention to the September book.

Bob, I think it's your turn to choose; do you have anything in mind?

"The Road"

Finishing that book was like waking up from a bad dream. I'm not saying the book was bad, but quite the opposite. The writing style was very different than anything I've read before, even the lack of apostrophes and chapters. For whatever reason it sucked me in as if I was "the man" and I saw my own son was "the boy". Maybe that is way McCarthy left them unnamed; so that we could more easily see ourselves in their place.

Back in my high school wrestling days, I would often go three days without food and very little water to "make weight". During those days I remember my mind and body going into a catatonic state. I went through the motions of life, but I felt I had no life in me. I remember one winter night after practice sitting on our living room coach wrapped up in blankets zoned out in front of the TV. I was so cold, with no fat or calories to burn and dry cotton-mouth was my every day reality. That night a Sprite commercial came on and I watched as the cool refreshing beverage was poured over that delicious crystal ice. I was just about ready to give up everything in life just to have a sip of that. Anyway...this book brought me back into those same feelings.

I read the entire book in one sitting working my uneventful flooring customer service part-time job at RC Willey. I was compelled to eat my dinner early while reading because I couldn't bear to "go without" again. Maybe that's why I'm getting more and more on the hefty side. I just have a hard time going into that mental state of being without food and water, especially without a spiritual purpose to support me through it.

I enjoyed the father and son relationship shown in this book. I loved the goodness of the boy shown in his tenderness with with the man who called himself "Ely" and for the mercy he showed toward the thief at the beach. I sensed the boy's frustration with his father's apparent hypocrisy. The father told stories of good deeds, but when it came down to it, the man was more concerned with protecting his son's life than extending the kindnesses he preached.

The harsh possibilities of human nature are portrayed in horrific imagery...the suicide of the man's wife rather than face the futile struggle to live in such a world...the pregnant woman seen and then shortly after the headless baby cooking over the fire...the imprisoned people in the basement being cannibalized one body part at a time.

What it comes down to is the basic good versus evil. How would I be in this same situation? I would I carry the fire of goodness and hope or would I devour my fellow human beings and long for death.

At a Rest Stop On the Road

[Sorry about the accidental post of nothing, don't know what happened.]

I started listening to this book on a drive to NC. It was early evening when I started out, and as we drove it got darker and darker, while the book got creepier and creepier. When we eventually stopped at a rest stop, I had a conversation go on inside my head that was very similar to the one that takes place between the boy and his dad several times in the book.

Boy Me: [Looking at the Dirty, Dark Restroom feeling creeped out.] "I don't want to go in there."

Dad Me: "It'll be OK. We'll just go in really fast and be right back out."

Boy Me: "I don't really need to use the bathroom. I'm fine."

Dad Me: "We have to go in there."

Boy Me: "I really don't want to go in there."

Dad Me: [Grabbing imaginary pistol] "We have no choice. Let's go."

Note: I only listened to the book, and based on some comments I read online, I may have used a bit too much punctuation. Sorry.

Listening to this book, I had no problem staying awake on the 6 hour drive, even though I was rather tired when we started. This was especially surprising because there were times when I felt the book was repetitive (starving, scary people, find food, starving, scary people, find food, etc.), and I just wanted them to get to the beach already.

The author was very effective in conveying a specific feeling, that of the darkness and the weight of a sometimes hopeless struggle. It's not necessarily a feeling that I want to feel often, but any time an author can not only make you think or keep you entertained but can make you feel something, I think that takes great skill. Plus, when you've really felt the darkness, then when the character get something of a respite (checkers and a hot bath) the relief and joy you feel is magnified. Relative to their (your) previous experience, simple pleasures become immensely satisfying.

I thought the author's choice to not explain what happened to cause the apocalypse was simultaneously artisitic genius and a cop-out. It's genius because it's not really relevant to the story, and any discussion of it would be unnecessary and distracting. Still, I kept thinking about possible scenarios and what was reasonable for the father and son to find and what wasn't. I'm not sure any explanation would have completely satisfied me. Thus, it was a cop-out because it was the easy way out, but it was genius because it was the only way out.

Still, does anyone have a good explanation why the father would never use his son's name? I suppose this makes it, so it could be any father and any son. Perhaps, it also adds to the bleakness of the situation. But really, what father never calls their child by name?

To Peter's points:

Provider vs. Protector: I agree that the hunger scenes were much more anxiety-ridden than the ones where they were attacked or threatened, but I think that says more the nature of the problem than about me. A physical attack gives you a rush of adrenaline, and your brain shifts into attack/defense mode. It can be almost an out of body experience. Very quick. Starvation, much like excessive debt, etc., is something that lingers and hovers over all of your other experiences. It weighs down on you, especially when you're not thinking of just yourself (ie fasting) but when you have to provide. (Or at least that's how the author effectively made me feel since I've never really experienced it myself.)

Skills: I don't have any skills that will be useful in the apocalypse, neither to face reality steely-eyed or to fix things, etc. ...unless someone else can think of an apocalyptic scenario in which UNO playing skills come in handy.

Father's Tragic Flaw: I really liked this insight, Peter. I didn't catch it when I read it, but I think you're right on. I think my 4 year old is about 6 months away from realizing how I'm a flawed mortal. (I think my final guess for the kid's age in the story was about 8.)

In the end, I wouldn't put this book on my favorites list, and I wouldn't recommend it to most audiences. That being said, it was a powerful and memorable book.

On the Road Again...

A few observations and a few questions:

I was most struck by McCarthy's color imagery. The only time color shows up, that I can recall, is in the scenes discussing fish at the very beginning and very end. Other than that, everything is black or gray. It's a device that I normally would find quite tedious, but McCarthy was able to do it without losing me. It gave the book a bleakness that was searing.

I wonder whether any of you identified more with the son than the father. Of course, it's probably easier to identify with the father, as the story is told from his perspective, and since that's the place most of us find ourselves in currently. On the second read I felt much less anxiety-ridden; I was practically a basket case my first time, most particularly during the scenes when they were running low on food. The more visceral scenes, like when they were running from bad guys, I didn't feel threatened; maybe that's because I see my role in my family as provider as more important (or perhaps more tenuous) than my role as protector.

One thing that kept coming back to me was from John Barleycorn. A criticism London made of milque-toast men who don't rage in behalf of lost causes. And here is McCarthy's hero, doggedly continuing in the face of utter hopelessness. Perhaps he doesn't mean for me to generalize about what it means to be a man, but between Barleycorn and the scene in The Road where his wife gives up, I'm struck by the concept that Real Men aren't Quitters. I was also reminded of "On The Beach," the film by Stanley Kramer of the onset of nuclear winter. The premise is a nuclear cloud is engulfing the earth, leaving none alive in its wake. The last place it covers is Australia. There's a brief time when the populace knows the cloud is coming and prepares for the inevitable. In the movie, Anothony Perkins plays a young father who must make the decision between a suicide pill for him, his wife and their young son, or the certainty of radiation sickness. In the movie, IIRC, it was the man who pushed the pill and the woman who refused. In this case, the manly virtue was being able to face reality steely-eyed. Obviously these two virtues (and I can believe both are virtues) are in tension. Personally, I don't feel I've sufficiently cultivated either of them to be of much use in an extreme situation.

One other thought was my admiration at the ability of the father to do simple things. Simple things that I wouldn't have known how to approach, like how to disassemble a propane stove, fix a wobbly shopping cart wheel, etc. Wilderness survival particularly adapted to the horrific wilderness in which he found himself. I guess it made me a little guilty of my inabilities; the softness of the modern man. It also reminded me a little of David O. McKay as an 85 year old man, standing out in the sun all day, pushing on a horse. There's a sense that's being lost in me at least, of how to work and live in a non-mechanized, non-computerized environment. Maybe that's necessary, but it's a loss nonetheless.

Last thought; the confrontation on the beach, with the man who had attempted to steal all their stuff. It's heart-breaking for me. The father exacts retribution, and as a result loses a measure of the respect (although not the love) that the son bore for him. His son was obviously overwhelmingly concerned with morality, and the question of whether they were good or bad. The father always made the "good" decision, until then. It was a moment, I guess, when the son saw the father as a flawed mortal, rather than the hero-god. Psychologically, I suppose that's an integral last step in growing up, which may be why McCarthy ended the novel so soon after. The son had learned all he needed to learn, and was ready for his apprenticeship. And needed to leave his father behind. But I still cried when the father died. Even on my second reading.

David O. McKay and The Modern (?) Church

I enjoyed reading the first 250 pages or so. The last 150 I had to plow through, as the story had become fairly repetitive. If I had to summarize things into a single sentence, it would be: "David O. McKay energetically moved the church forward, although he was occasionally swayed strongly by affinities for specific people to make decisions that probably had some negative consequences." This theme was repeated in connection with blacks and the Priesthood, BYU structure development, KSL, communism, missionary work, and the building program.

As an overall work, I was often frustrated with what I perceived as the authors' personal biases. They seem to have had a particular view, one which impacted their presentation of all the major characters in the book, particularly divisive figures. Consider, for instance, what I would consider the difference with which Sterling McMurrin's political views were presented (quite sympathetically) versus Ezra Taft Benson's political views (quite unsympathetically). I attribute this to a modern perspective on the particular issues, but I would have appreciated a more historical perspective that avoided the normativity. I don't imagine it was a conscious decision, rather it just seeped in from the authors understandable personal feelings and beliefs.

On some of the specific issues Paul raised: I do think the church generally held back the revelation on blacks and the Priesthood. I think the more interesting question is to what degree the feelings of Joseph Fielding Smith and Harold B. Lee delayed the revelation. This is, I feel, a much trickier question. How limited are prophets, in their role as prophets, by personal feelings. Harold B. Lee seemed to have very strong feelings about the importance of the policy during McKay's tenure; when he became prophet did those feelings disappear, or was God able to speak through them, or did they (possibly) interfere with his potential to receive the revelation? I don't know.

I've never given the question of whether there is significant debate among members of the Quorum of the Twelve, or the First Presidency, a large amount of thought. I think that what I found more disconcerting from the way the governing organizations of the church were presented in the book was a lack of united front after decisions were made. Often this seemed (from the author's depictions) to arise due to ambiguity in David O. McKay's instructions. However, I question two things: how publicly divided the leadership of the church truly was (on issues like the John Birch Society, for example) and to what degree the Clare Middlemis records (private accounts, by in large) reflect the general public perception at the time. Personally, I imagine the issue of Elder Benson's politicization wasn't nearly as conflictual as it was depicted in the book.

As a final note, I appreciated the opportunity to learn more about an important era in church history. While I take most of this record with a grain of salt, I don't find anything in it to shake my testimony. David O. McKay, like his predecessors and successors as President of the Church, was a prophet of God. Despite personal limitations and foibles, when he spoke as Prophet, he spoke the Word of God. And while it's important to always maintain personal perspective, I think doubting what is of man and what is of God should, in the end, be of mostly academic import. Less important than his dicta to the press over communism or priesthood are his words at General Conference. We should probably study those more, and the former less.

[Note: edited for date and time to make the post appear at the top of the blog]

July Book-o-th'-Month: the Decision

So, I've decided to go with The Road as the July book of the month. Hopefully you can all get a copy easily. I'll put an upfront caveat that not only is the book very stark in its depiction of post-apocalyptic America, but there are some graphically violent depicted events. Or maybe not graphic, but certainly disturbing.

Anyway, happy reading!

Doug on McKay

Thanks for picking this book. I have enjoyed what I have read so far; I don't know how much farther I'll get in the coming days. I start my new job in the morning.

Two thoughts and a longish quote:

1) I don't really like the author's writing style. I think the "blacks and the priesthood" chapter was better written than earlier chapters, but I still think the writing got in the way of the subject matter a little.

2) I love hearing about the discussion and (for lack of a better term) politics that seem to happen with the brethren. It's interesting. None of it affects my testimony. If I had more time, I would like to read the conference talks from the timeframe of some of these discussions. Might help us realize that these men spent the bulk of their time teaching true doctrine and leading. It's more interesting to point out the discord (and extremist comments), but I wager not proportionate to what was happening day-in and day-out.

3) The writing about the leaders of the church debating/discussing things that are later put forth as immutable truths reminded me of an interesting passage from the Heber J. Grant biography I have, by Matthew Haslam. Forgive the long quote, but it has always made me wonder just how much our Father in Heaven is willing to listen to our ideas, then support us in our actions. For what it's worth, the author cites the Conference Report of April 1941, page 5 for the quotation. I found the original article here: http://search.ldslibrary.com/article/view/195462

The background is that Elder Grant has been rather weighed down by his call as an apostle at age 25, and is riding alone through Arizona. The call came unexpectedly a little after the conference, which had concluded without filling 2 vacancies in the 12.

"In what he described as 'one of the most real things in all my life,' he listened in on a conversation of his father, the Prophet Joseph Smith, and the Savior. So real was the event that Heber 'seemed to hear the words that were spoken.' Listening with a 'great deal of interest,' he heard them converse about the status of the Quorum of the Twelve following the previous October conference. They addressed 'the question that a mistake had been made in not filling those two vacancies and... agreed that a revelation needed to be sent in order to correct the mistake. Heber reported:

"It was given to me that the Prophet Joseph Smith and my father mentioned me and requested that I be called to that position... that the Prophet Joseph and my father desired me to have that position, and it was because of their faithful labors that I was called, and not because of anything I had done of myself or any great thing that I had accomplished."

Happy reading... Doug (now in Durham)

Discussion items from David O McKay

Here are my thoughts in random order:

In my late teenage years, up through when you all knew me, I was a proud orthodox Mormon. My experience on my mission and last three years at BYU, including marriage, tempered a lot of my self-righteousness and natural tendency to judge others harshly. I have learned to relax and enjoy others for their strengths and weaknesses. Perhaps that is why I enjoyed so immensely the anecdotes about David O McKay and the Coca-cola and the rum-cake.

A history of our church from the perspective of academic openness would be an interesting one. How many people were excommunicated for their libertarian positions on Prohibition? How many people were excommunicated for their opinions related to our LDS history? If you have read, "Rough Stone Rolling" by Bushman, you can find historic details not mentioned in mainstream mormondom that might have got Bushman ex'd sixty years ago. I have found that the truth about certain historic events may challenge my former line of thinking, but as it is truth, my testimony is strengthened. I also found that to be the case while reading about some of the internal conflicts between the members of the twelve in President McKay's time.

I embrace an openness to critical thought and discourse in our church, especially as it relates to our history. History and points of interest that are non-revealed are all fair game in my book. The danger is when one crosses into "evil speaking" of the men called of God and in rejecting revealed doctrines.

The discussion of the book "Mormon Doctrine" was very interesting to me. I knew there was some controversy related to some of the content, but I had no idea about the heartache it caused the brethren and the unpublished reviews pointing out varying opinions and even corrections. I'd like to get my hands on that manuscript! The greatest scriptural truths are those found in apparent contradictions. Although Mormon Doctrine used to be "in application" as important to me as the scriptures, I have since come to realize that it should have been entitled "One Really Good Man's Scholarly Interpretation and Opinions of Stuff from the Scriptures." As the David O McKay book mentions, the printing of Mormon Doctrine has had a huge impact on the culture of our church. I think it helped broaden general understanding of church principles, but it also made us all a bit more like the Sadducee's and Pharisees. We let Elder McConkie's opinions lead us to be more critical of each other and perhaps we closed the door a bit on our personal revelations in coming to understand complex doctrines. Perhaps "Mormon Doctrine" led us to a more wide-spread belief that everything ever spoken by any prophet or general authority was truth and fit for doctrine.

If you all haven't read it yet, I might suggest for our August book-o-the-month, "Getting at the Truth" by Robert Millet. In dealing with difficult questions about our faith, especially from anti-Mormon's, I like how he defines what LDS Doctrine and beliefs are. They are those items that you can find in the official church curricula for Sunday School, Primary, Priesthood, Relief Society, Seminary and Institute guides, and current General Conference talks. If it ain't in there, it isn't our official position and you can't challenge Mormon beliefs that are not official.

I also found the discussion about Ezra Taft Benson fascinating. I admire a lot of what he wrote about the Proper Role of Government. He was surely caught up in the Red-Scare mania, but I still think he was right, even about the socialist results of civil rights legislation. Don't get me wrong here. I am all for equal rights under the law, but whenever a government has to force a policy on its people it isn't nearly as effective as if the change came from the people's hearts on their own. Because political leaders felt so horrible about the brutal treatment of blacks, programs were put in place to supposedly repair damages caused by centuries of abuse. Unfortunately almost every one of those "civil rights" programs created a deeper dependency of the government. This form of slavery is nearly as bad as their former servant-hood. At least a servant with a benevolent master still has personal dignity.

Lastly, on the topic of California's Proposition 8. Although a libertarian at heart, I have no internal conflict with moral legislation that perpetuates a "Good" society. (remember American Heritage!) The church's reason for supporting the legislation is very good and deep and can be found on the Newsroom portion of the church website. I did find it surprising that the church issued a letter that members were free to disagree on this issue without fear of repercussions and church discipline. How very progressive! I remember the letter being read in church, but I can't find a copy of it.

The First 60 Pages

I was only able to read the part that was available online, but I thought the part online was fascinating. I loved the description of how McKay looked like a prophet, and how he purposefully let his hair grow out instead of getting the missionary hair cut. I understand the purpose behind leaders not sharing all of their personal spiritual experiences (as some were alluded to and not shared), but it certainly is more interesting when they share them. I loved the story of McKay seeing the branch president in the audience and calling him "evil".

I will attempt to answer Paul's questions even though many of them refer to parts after the first 60 pages:

Q: was President McKay like Lincoln, erring on the side of mercy? Not to say that President McKay was swayed by personal relationships, but how can church leaders avoid being prejudiced when making hopefully inspired decisions?

I think we're all swayed by personal relationships, and that's not a bad thing. Isn't our goal to develop a personal relationship with Christ and hope God errs on the side of mercy come judgment day?


Q: Was the church membership holding back the revelation? Do we hold our leaders back from receiving the blessings they hope to be bestowed on the Church?

Not me. I'm all for some new revelation. Bring it on!

Q: Without trying to imagine discord amongst apostles, how much debate do you imagine goes on?

I don't know, but my institute teacher in NC would often illustrate my Book of Mormon class with examples of the living apostles, including how they handled differences of opinions. It was the best institute class I've taken. The examples of great men, including possible discord, are a much more powerful teacher than doctrinal quotes, which is why I enjoyed what I could read of this book.

Q: I try to categorize rules into three: principles (unchanging, truths), policies (rooted in principle, but based on circumstances), and procedures (by necessity change to accomplish policies). It’s usually easy to distinguish between principles and the other two, but often, if a rule seems procedural, it is harder for me to believe it was revealed truth. How much from, say, the Church Handbook of instructions is an opinion (albeit a very good source), and how much is and how much is “the Lord sayeth”?

I've had a big internal debate about this one with respect to gay marriage in California. My initial reaction was that government shouldn't define marriage one way or the other. It's a religious term, and marriage for me is different than it is for most people anyway. Then I thought more about what the prophet said about supporting Prop 8 financially, etc. I ultimately decided that if I were in CA, I'd just follow the prophet. Then my uncle (a BYU religion prof. and a staunch Democrat) said he would not follow the prophet on this one, citing blacks and the priesthood and how sometimes doctrines/policies/procedures change. I agree with you in theory Paul, but sometimes it's tricky to find the line between doctrines and policies.


Q: Boyd K Packer: “We live far below our revelatory privileges.” How far?

[Stretching my arms out.]

Q: Are the communists still out to get us? President Benson had some very Right opinions. That’s interesting to me for two reasons: The Lord respects our agency, and in any case President Benson was able to receive revelation.

A member of our stake presidency gave a great talk on self-reliance on Sunday and how our ability to be self-reliant affects our spirituality. He was talking about having a job, being free of addictions, etc. However, I think any form of government that takes away too much from the people's self-reliance is a move in the wrong direction. Can we have universal health care and still be self-reliant? Sure. But there are wrong ways to do things. Communism was one of many wrong ways, and I think there are other wrong ways proposed every day.

David O and the Rise

Hopefully this book was faith building rather than destroying. It was for me. I appreciate that the prophet struggles with problems within the Church—and it saddens me that there are so many who do not support him fully.  I know it was long.  And boring in parts.  And repetitive.  The first 60 pages, I think were the best.  I felt like the author(s) were trying to make things seem a lot more heated than they may have been, but I felt like I got to see the forest in spite of some of the authors' pet trees.

Tolerance/Agency

I love the quote regarding McMurrin’s possible excommunication: “They cannot do this to you! They cannot put you on trial!” While it was clear that President McKay was willing to execute the will of the Lord by not tolerating sin and helping people repent, whatever the process, he respected agency and free thinking. It appears that he sought open-mindedness in decisions and in his general thinking.

Q: was President McKay like Lincoln, erring on the side of mercy? Not to say that President McKay was swayed by personal relationships, but how can church leaders avoid being prejudiced when making hopefully inspired decisions?

Blacks

“I’ve had it! I’m not going to do it again!” Referring to his asking the question of blacks and the priesthood, President McKay said, “the last time I did it was late last night.” It appears that many Church leaders were anxious about the issue. Incidentally, I read a very comprehensive article on this subject in BYU studies. It talks about, among other things, the unity that existed when the revelation was finally received.

I am a counselor in my current church calling. Throughout most of the church, I think the problem is that counselors do not do enough to help their presiding authority, but this book has brought to light for me that we can very easily get in the way of the presiding authority’s plan of action.

For example, I wonder about the apparent opposition Harold B. Lee had to blacks receiving the priesthood. How much did that affect the Lord’s willingness to bless the Church? Obviously until after he died.

Q: Was the church membership holding back the revelation? Do we hold our leaders back from receiving the blessings they hope to be bestowed on the Church?

Revelation and the prophet

I think it’s also interesting how many different opinions there are. When the Lord speaks, it’s black and white. When the brethren are acting on their own, there’s plenty of discord, and that’s not always a bad thing. But it’s made me realize the importance of revelation. When the prophet speaks (especially from the pulpit or by written directives), it’s best to listen.

Take Mormon Doctrine. Aside from the Catholic reference, I didn’t know it was so controversial. In fact, it seems that there are quite a few holes in the author’s assertions—if there were thousands of doctrinal errors, why were there not some good examples? It seems the authors are trying to make, in this and in other instances in the book, a tempest in a teapot. The lesson for me, however, is the same. It makes me grateful for personal revelation to confirm when people speak the truth.

Q: Without trying to imagine discord amongst apostles, how much debate do you imagine goes on?
Q: I try to categorize rules into three: principles (unchanging, truths), policies (rooted in principle, but based on circumstances), and procedures (by necessity change to accomplish policies). It’s usually easy to distinguish between principles and the other two, but often, if a rule seems procedural, it is harder for me to believe it was revealed truth. How much from, say, the Church Handbook of instructions is an opinion (albeit a very good source), and how much is and how much is “the Lord sayeth”?
Q: Boyd K Packer: “We live far below our revelatory privileges.” How far?

Commies

Q: Are the communists still out to get us? President Benson had some very Right opinions. That’s interesting to me for two reasons: The Lord respects our agency, and in any case President Benson was able to receive revelation.