Several of you have directed my attention to what I believe may be the post that offended LDS muckety-mucks enough to invite me to a disciplinary council.
It’s a video blog entry in which I show and comment on a brief excerpt of HBO’s Big Love depiction of the temple veil ceremony, I read from a paper I wrote for a class on religion and violence, “stringing together with some academic glue…[the Mountain Meadows Massacre] and secret vengeance oaths and bloody sacrificial atonement by firing squad”, and I demonstrate how, as part of my oath-taking, I symbolically slit my throat to show what could/should happen to me if I revealed these things to the world. (please tell me how this is not sick and coercive–no, on second thought, don’t.)
Overall, it’s actually quite an embarrassing video–not because of its content, but because of its amateurish presentation. The production values are in the gutter–no, they’ve poured down the storm drain and are headed for the sea, I look strange, I speak awkwardly, and the scene transitions are abrupt and almost non-existent in places. It’s ironic but shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone that its small number of views have at least doubled since the local Church authority’s visit.
Finally, part of the reason I posted the video was to find a fair use way of posting a showing at least a portion of the Big Love ceremony. I studied the legal recommendations of fair use advocacy groups and discovered that it is defensible to show a short video clip of copyrighted material as part of a personal or academic work. My commentary was meant to coincide with the momentary increase in public interest in Mormon temple rites.
Towards the end of the video I describe my motivation for discussing the temple ceremony and its impact on some Mormons:
It’s…because of the power of these techniques and the questionable morality, the force behind these techniques of teaching that I feel like these things have to be put out in the open, they have to be discussed, they have to be open to criticism. At this point the only people who are in a position to reveal these things and to talk about them, hopefully in an intelligent and maybe even in a somewhat respectful manner–I am not trying to make fun of these ceremonies, I’m not trying to belittle them in any way. I want to point out the problems I know had a definite impact on me, on my psyche and my emotional and mental health. After talking with so many people who have had such problems and difficulties with the temple ceremony, today, by suppressing any kind of discussion of these things, it only serves to reinforce the power of the Church in many of these peoples’ lives in destructive ways, emotionally and socially destructive ways.
In this light, after all of the things that I’ve said about the Church, I’m not at all surprised that it may have chosen to finally take action against me because I spoke openly and critically about such problematic portions of the temple ceremony.
As I said before, the temple is where the Church is most cult-like. This is where the social pressure reaches its peak, the topic on which opposing voices are most effectively silenced or marginalized, and the rhetorical space in which members are most likely to exhibit uncritical, programmed behavior. I realize that this last accusation is a powerful one, so I don’t make it lightly. I’ll leave it to you all to judge based on how you see members talk, react, comment about the temple and its detractors.
“Sacred, not secret” is the standard Mormon mantra about the temple. When I was a missionary, I was taught that the most sacred event in the history was the suffering of Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane. My mission president and visiting general authorities lamented that the church in Japan did not speak enough of it, that entire meetings would pass without a mention of Jesus and his redemptive sacrifice, his sacred gift to us. Hearing this, I made it my heartfelt priority to testify of his suffering for me, and for others–members and non-members alike–every opportunity I had. I was lauded for this behavior. I’m not sure how to reconcile these two views of speaking of sacred things in Mormonism, but they seem to be at odds with each other.
One final thought: while I have been ratcheting down my engagement with Mormonism outside of the political arena (I’d like to be a bulldog against the Church on gay marriage issues), I don’t feel blindsided that the Church may be on the verge of excommunicating me. I didn’t consciously invite this attention, but I’d like to think that for once, the Church is reacting to me, rather than the other way around. And I don’t have any problem with their desire to boot me. Maybe I’d want to do the same, if I were in their shoes.
One of the reasons I didn’t rush to remove my name from the records was because I was conscious that I have more power to criticize the Church while I’m an official member. Once I’m off, I’m easily dismissed as a critic of any value. Some of you might want to think about this, as you debate whether or not to remove your name from Church records. I prefer to use my exit to draw at least a little attention to the negative aspects of the Church, rather than leaving quietly. I only get one chance at this, after all.


38 responses so far ↓
1 xJane // Jun 12, 2009 at 12:34 pm
One of the things that struck me when I first saw your vid was how similar the Mormon ritual is to many other rituals I’ve observed. Sacred, all of them, perhaps, but similar. And perhaps this is the most feared: that, by making it public, you’ve shown the truth. Things that can be examined critically can be questioned. And in questioning may lie the death of many a religion.
I look forward to your experience during this time of conflict with the Church. I think I’d have to work much harder than simply blogging to earn my Church’s forceful expulsion.
In the Catholic Church, excommunication removes a person from God’s “good book” as an encouragement to reform, not a punishment (allegedly). It is seen as the last tool of a loving parent in convincing a wayward child to obey. I keep thinking of this as I read your updates and the responses to them.
2 Lessie // Jun 12, 2009 at 12:37 pm
As my sis prepares to go through the temple, I can’t help but wish she would read these things first.
While the current ceremony is much dumbed down in the threat department, for those who are uneasy with the experience, it’s still enforced with manipulation, coercion and fear…
3 adamf // Jun 12, 2009 at 12:40 pm
John, I’m a believer, and I really appreciate your writing and perspective. Overall I have had very positive experiences with the temple. At the same time, I very much appreciate the sharing of your experiences (and it sounds like many others have had similarly negative experiences) with the temple.
If I have learned anything from this (as well as some of your other posts) it is that if my children (well, currently there is only one) one day want to be endowed I will make sure they know what they are getting into ahead of time, i.e. regarding the covenants. Reading some other perspectives on this has helped me to understand a little how so many people feel manipulated or socially coerced. Hopefully that won’t be the case if they are able to make up their minds in regards to the covenants ahead of time.
4 John // Jun 12, 2009 at 12:53 pm
Adam, I am grateful for your kind remarks. I know that many Mormons have life-long positive experiences of the temple. Thank you for respecting the experiences of those of us who have had very different experiences with the same institution.
5 Molly // Jun 12, 2009 at 1:30 pm
I don’t know how the LDS church isn’t going to lose an entire generation of young people to this sort of behavior. Before the Web, it was easy to sanitize history or sweep problems under the rug. Lack of information and social taboos prevented any discussion of troubling issues.
But the cat’s out of the bag. The Internet provides both a venue for discussion and honest inquiry into history and doctrine that the LDS church keeps attempting to shut down — by denying, by perpetuating the same old “keep praying till there’s no problem” mentality, and by throwing people out if they have the audacity to be honest about their feelings, thoughts, and concerns.
The church only ends up damaging its credibility with its members and the world at large through its policy of deny-and-repress, rather than engaging those who make sincere, honest inquiries.
6 angryyoungwoman // Jun 12, 2009 at 1:50 pm
“Deny-and-repress”–that’s the perfect description for what was happening each time I tried to talk to someone about what I felt to be true versus what I was being told was true. I wanted to believe so much, but every time I tried to cut through all the dissonance and get at the truth, I was shut down. It was like they wanted all the members to believe that the church and all the prophets were perfect and had never made mistakes–they couldn’t trust us to love an imperfect entity. They are powerful, but insecure and selfish in their power.
7 adamf // Jun 12, 2009 at 3:51 pm
“very time I tried to cut through all the dissonance and get at the truth, I was shut down”
I hope this will change. I am trying to promote openness and honesty with members around me. Funny thing is, even as an active member I worry about getting “shut down” by more fundamentalist-types.
I agree, it is often due to insecurity, and anxiety and fear. Those feelings often lead people to exercise their power (*cough* unrighteous dominion), anger, or hostility.
8 Elaine // Jun 12, 2009 at 6:34 pm
angryyoungwoman…Your experience sounds very much like mine in regards to the church.
Elaine
9 xJane // Jun 12, 2009 at 9:07 pm
Molly: you are awesome.
angryyoungwoman: hear hear! Your experience resonates so much with mine. All I can say is “dittos”.
10 Téa // Jun 13, 2009 at 4:32 pm
D’oh! I’ve lost two comments now to captcha error. To match the time I have, one memory, one question, neither as eloquent as I’d like right now.
Memory–Sunstone ‘06 audience reaction to your priesthood announcement in the feminist blog session.
Question–Are there any of the temple covenants* you would have made without coercion, or were they all ones you felt tricked into making?
*thinking of non-sign/token promises
11 amelia // Jun 14, 2009 at 1:06 pm
xJane says:
“In the Catholic Church, excommunication removes a person from God’s “good book” as an encouragement to reform, not a punishment (allegedly).”
theoretically, excommunication works the same way in the mormon church. i’m not arguing that it always works that way in practice, nor that it’s never used as a form of punishment. but were you to sit down with john’s stake president and ask him why this step were being taken, i’m pretty sure one of the reasons would be loving concern for john and his salvation (though i’m equally sure there are other reasons).
i don’t write this to justify or defend the decision; i think it’s a stupid decision for many reasons. but i do think it’s important that such things be understood as fully as possible. i know the man who came to visit john and he’s a truly loving human being; i’d hate to see this characterized as nothing but vindictive punishment (not that i think anyone here has done that; this has been such a wonderfully open discussion–thank you to john for having such a beautiful spirit of honesty about this and everything else).
12 John // Jun 14, 2009 at 2:11 pm
Téa, sorry about the captcha problem! Anyone else encounter this problem?
I want to reiterate what I’ve said elsewhere–I find the entire culture and social structures that surround temple Mormonism to be coercive. I experienced this mostly through the belief questions of the temple recommend interview.
That said, the Law of Consecration would be my specific response to your question. I do not feel like it was fair of a 160-year-old institution with millions of members to ask a 19 year old who had barely been a member for a year to make an oath to give everything his whole life to God (and his Church). This was one of my primary sources of guilt for years.
13 adamf // Jun 14, 2009 at 2:16 pm
“make an oath to give everything his whole life to God (and his Church). This was one of my primary sources of guilt for years.”
This really helps to understand you better. It makes sense how that would be incredibly overwhelming (to me at least, trying to see it from your view). Growing up in the church, I didn’t feel that any covenant I made in the temple caught me by surprise, i.e. it was more of an extension of what I had already been doing. That being said, again, thanks for being so open about this, and yet, not coming across as aggressive.
14 John // Jun 14, 2009 at 2:28 pm
amelia, thanks for bringing up excommunication = love. Though I understand that church leaders explain their actions this way, and may actually feel love for the excommincant, I also think it’s often doublespeak, and what they call love in certain contexts is out of sync with what they call love in most other relationships and situations. Let me use, as an example, the profession of church members that they love gays, while fighting for Prop 8. I think it’s appropriate to point out such apparent discrepancies to wider scrutiny, to hold the church accountable as much as possible.
I agree with you that the SP is someone I would call “a good man.” At the same time, he gave his full support to prop 8–whatever his motivation, this was a promotion of institutional discrimination and something that had an immediate impact on the emotional well-being of many good human beings. It’s these kinds of disconnects I hope to highlight, esp. where they involve me and those I care about.
Of course, I’m full of these disconnects myself.
In my case, I think council members feel that they’re in a situation where they must choose between leaving me alone or defending the Church that they love and have sworn to support with all their hearts and minds. And I wouldn’t be surprised if some members were royally pissed off at me, and could care less about me. But not the SP.
15 amelia // Jun 14, 2009 at 2:43 pm
it’s precisely that disjunction between various forms of “love” that has me so torn up about the church these days; and prop 8 was certainly one of the catalysts to my own spiritual turmoil of late–because of the way it embodied that disjunction, not only for those being denied the right to marry, but also for myself and the way people close to me responded to my position against prop. 8.
i appreciate your efforts to call attention to these disjunctions (is that a word?); it’s been more than i have felt capable of for many months now.
16 Jana // Jun 14, 2009 at 4:49 pm
I think this “love” is confusing to me, too. And what exactly does it mean to hold a church court for apostasy out of “love” for you? I also wonder why the SP felt it so important to stress that he “always had been and always would be your friend.” What does this mean exactly? What is friendly about showing up at your doorstep 3 years after you specifically asked for no contact from the church or its leaders serving in an official capacity? Don’t you think a friend is someone who keeps in touch, who invites you over for dinner, or who calls before they drop by? I think what he’s really trying to say is that he’s not acting out of malice for you. IMO, that’s not at all the same thing as being a “friend.”
It’s a similar odd use of language that’s often a part of the conversation when I run into ward members. They always stress how much they “miss me.” This causes me to wonder why, if they miss me so much, they never call or email or suggest a meetup. I don’t think they really “miss _me_,” they only miss my attendance at church.
17 Holly // Jun 14, 2009 at 5:24 pm
I do not feel like it was fair of a 160-year-old institution with millions of members to ask a 19 year old who had barely been a member for a year to make an oath to give everything his whole life to God (and his Church). This was one of my primary sources of guilt for years.
Huh.
This is interesting.
I thought I was the only one.
After my mission several people told me that you weren’t supposed to take that promise so very, very literally, and I felt foolish, because I took that promise very seriously myself.
As I’ve discussed repeatedly in various forums, my mission was HORRIBLE, mostly because I decided that proselytizing, like the temple and so many other things about the church, was coercive, and destructive to both those doing the coercing and those being coerced. But because I was inside this entropic system where ideas like that were not just apostate but something beyond the logic or comprehension of virtually everyone I interacted with, I had no way to work through these growing convictions. And so I just stayed and kept trying to convert perfectly happy Buddhists to Mormonism’s brand of Christianity.
And I was also tormented on my mission by that promise in the temple. Like adamf, I grew up in the church, and I suppose maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised by that promise I was asked to make in the temple, but I was. The totality of it, the gravity of the setting, the way it was underscored by the ultra creepy blood oaths–all that made me understand–as I believe it was designed to–that this was not a casual promise. (So frankly I was insulted and annoyed later when people said, “It’s not REALLY a big deal. I mean, you still have to live your life.”)
Part of the problem was that I didn’t believe that God shared my values. Above all, I valued thoughtful writing that challenged the status quo and asked difficult, threatening questions, and what I most wanted to do with my life was add to that body of work.
It would have been one thing if God and the church had valued the sacrifice they were asking me to make by not writing or thinking certain things. But they saw the things I cared about so much not merely as worthless, but as something evil. That’s why the excommunicate people who produce it.
My mission journal in filled with pages in which I agonize over these questions:
what about art? Can God love someone who loves art and beauty and human endeavor at least as much as she loves God? And if not, why are those things so wonderful? Is creating and enjoying great art worth going to hell for?
I finally decided it was. Not that I think any more that’s where I’m headed–I think that’s where I was.
18 adamf // Jun 14, 2009 at 5:32 pm
“They always stress how much they “miss me.” This causes me to wonder why, if they miss me so much, they never call or email or suggest a meetup. I don’t think they really “miss _me_,” they only miss my attendance at church.”
While this also may be due to the fact that they just plain don’t see you at church anymore (I have had people in former wards say the same thing, and I’m active), it is sad if it is indeed the case that they only miss you at church. I wonder if some members have a hard time relating outside a church setting. I ALWAYS try to make a point of being friends first, before anything else. Many members do that, some unfortunately do not or cannot.
19 Hellmut // Jun 14, 2009 at 5:56 pm
That’s interesting, Holly. I’ve been concluding some time ago, the more seriously you take the Church, the more you’ll get hurt.
It’s easiest for you if religion is just a family tradition. In between are the people who are players, the folks that cry at sacrament meeting as a bid for status or to advance their career.
Afterward, they do what they want.
I guess, it’s my own fault for trying to take it seriously.
20 Jana // Jun 14, 2009 at 7:19 pm
Holly & Hellmut:
I think you’ve hit the nail on the head with this one. Yes, the more seriously you take it, the harder it is…
I just deleted a paragraph that detailed so many of the ways I tried over the years to bring myself closer to God and more fully live the law of consecration as well as other commandments. Gah, I can’t even make that list w/o remembering how hard I tried. John was the same way, too, totally internalizing the “exact obedience” stuff during his mission.
It’s just not in my personality to do things halfway. Since I’ve left I’ve met so many Mormons who just coast thru church meetings, they fudge on the WoW, they wear their G’s only when it’s convenient, etc. That really never occurred to me when I was active.
When people suggest that I didn’t “try hard enough” to be a good Mormon I think what they really mean is that I didn’t try hard enough to be ‘cafeteria’ Mormon–only picking and choosing the parts of the gospel that were easy.
21 xJane // Jun 14, 2009 at 8:11 pm
amelia @11: the Catholic experience of excommunication is the only one I know, so it’s nice to know that it’s similar for Mormons. I know that John’s feelings towrad the stake president are colored by experience, but I see them through Catholic eyes (which are, of course, clouded by my experience).
Jana @16: re: love. I have always felt that the “love” people feel for church members now no longer attending church is a hollow or a shallow sort of a love. Love me for me; not for the extra soul I bring your god. People who love only when their god is on the line are not worth your time.
22 John // Jun 14, 2009 at 8:26 pm
xJane (#21): Isn’t there quite a range of excommunication reasons in Catholicism? On the less loving side: so many of my historical heroes were cast far, far out of the church for false teachings. I think that recent Catholics who were cut off include those ordained women and the mom who got an abortion for her 9-year-old daughter, who was raped. Until recently, the practice of shunning was also often added to the excommunication.
23 Holly // Jun 15, 2009 at 9:52 am
John:
I have another question for you. As has been demonstrated here quite thoroughly, people are often bewildered and hurt when something that gave their lives meaning is characterized as coercive.
Several years ago, you made a comment about how meaningful you found your mission, how while you were on it, you felt a connection to and love for everyone you interacted with, much as you imagined Buddha or Christ must have.
I responded by pointing out that however genuine the love and connection you felt, they were nonetheless rooted in something coercive, because the fundamental objective of a mission is to persuade the people you interact with to embrace your beliefs and adopt your practices. As I’ve said above (#17), this is how I experienced my mission even while I was on it.
You were angry, and in an email exchange, you told me that it was unfair and inaccurate of me to characterize your mission as coercive and to demean the genuine love you felt at the time.
I suppose I was naive if I imagined you’d be anything but upset by my statement. I wonder how you feel about it now, however.
For instance, if someone doesn’t want to join the church, missionaries are supposed to stop visiting them. To rephrase Jana’s statement above (#16), “What is friendly about showing up at someone’s doorstep and conducting scripted conversations about why this person should become more like us and less like those around them?”
Has your growing ability and willingness to acknowledge and criticize the coercive nature of the temple increased your willingness to acknowledge other coercive elements of the church, such as missionary work? Or do you still feel that the purity of your motives as you experienced them insulated your work as a missionary from any characterization as coercive? Or are there other elements I’m missing, that affect how you remember and characterize your mission?
24 John // Jun 15, 2009 at 10:54 am
Holly:
Has your growing ability and willingness to acknowledge and criticize the coercive nature of the temple increased your willingness to acknowledge other coercive elements of the church, such as missionary work?
Haven’t thought much about it yet. One major emotional issue at a time. Certainly I experienced the mission rule regime as coercive. The program itself has strong cultish elements as well.
Or do you still feel that the purity of your motives as you experienced them insulated your work as a missionary from any characterization as coercive?
My mission experience was complex. Maybe I’ll think more about it and see more coercive elements. It still remains, in my memory, as a largely positive experience. And certainly my experience was not your experience.
Or are there other elements I’m missing, that affect how you remember and characterize your mission?
1. Japanese missionary work in the early 90s was extremely low-key compared to other countries. This was an extreme reaction to a period 8-10 years earlier when missionaries in Japan went through a very very high pressure campaign remembered as the “Groberg Era”.
We also spent about a day a week in some areas doing non-proselytizing service. I established a rep in two districts working with the hearing impaired–no lessons, no converts, and that was fine, and it was rewarding enough that I considered becoming a special ed teacher for several years.
2. It was my motherland. Every moment I was immersed in a culture I grew up with but wasn’t fully experience since my childhood, and here I was in fucking Japan. The food, the culture, the language, the history, the people, were all a continual joy. Japan’s as much my home as the US is.
I was also encouraged to spend non-proselytizing time with my aunt who lived in my area, and attended the funeral of my beloved grampa, sans companion, and with no time limit.
3. I was a recent, on-fire convert of a year, so I was completely sincere and believing. Doubts didn’t really hit me until I returned home.
4. Finally, the mission was the closest I’ve ever come to an ascetic and mystical discipline. I think I was strange even among missionaries for some of my attraction to these elements. I prayed constantly (so much so that I had a reputation for it) and had some powerful mystical experiences of love towards God and towards the people of Japan (but not towards my fellow missionaries…).
So I guess, yes, I do have some elements that probably contributed to my remembering my mission, to this day, as a relatively positive experience.
25 Kristine // Jun 15, 2009 at 11:09 am
I realize it doesn’t change your personal experience, but I do think it’s worth noting that the portions of the temple ceremony in question were removed more than a decade ago. It’s worth noting and making some allowance for the fact that the ceremony is rooted in a violent frontier past, and that as that past recedes, some of its uglier relics are being acknowledged for what they are and sometimes even officially repudiated. One can certainly bewail the glacial pace of change, and of course one has a right to the personal grief inflicted by such experiences, but if you’re going to generalize about the institution, some broader context is necessary, I think.
26 John // Jun 15, 2009 at 11:15 am
Thanks for bringing up the removal of the penalties, Kristine. (I think a couple of others have mentioned that context as well, and I’m pretty sure I do in my original paper, which I link to in the video post).
There’s only so much room in a post, and so many ways to slice and dice a topic. I count on commenters to fill in the gaps and to keep me honest.
27 John // Jun 15, 2009 at 11:17 am
Actually it’s pretty prominent in the text of the video post in which I talk about the penalties:
“The penalties were wholly eliminated from the endowment when the ceremony was streamlined in April 1990.”
28 Elaine // Jun 15, 2009 at 12:10 pm
I think it is worth pointing out that some of us had experiences in the church that had nothing to do with the temple, or oaths and penalties, that felt awfully coercive.
In my own experience, there were the constant questions about when I was getting married.
The was also the more general pressure, sometimes subtle and sometimes not subtle at all, to conform to the LDS version of how women should be, was immense. This, to the point of (and I’ve said this here before) of being told repeatedly that some of my interests (science, for example) weren’t “ladylike”.
Questions from my LDS peers among the young women that were baldly rude, from my point of view, were not uncommon. The one that sticks out in my mind is “Don’t you want to be like everyone else?” As if everyone in the world should strive to be just exactly like everyone else in the world.
I experienced all this as coercive because, others in the church, especially the other young women would extend or withhold their fellowship based on whether or not I was being sufficiently “Molly”, for want of a better term.
And, yes, I’m aware that this is just my experience. But it was my experience, and it was awful. Yet, I took the baptism promises so seriously that it took me years…no, decades, to realize that it wasn’t something wrong with me and finally got out.
29 Kristine // Jun 15, 2009 at 12:56 pm
Elaine–no argument there. The pressure to conform is immense, and the psychic punishment exacted when one doesn’t is all the more horrible for its subtlety.
John, thanks for clarifying–sorry for not doing my homework.
30 Kristine // Jun 15, 2009 at 12:57 pm
I guess I could follow up with a question–do you think it matters that the penalties were removed? Why or why not? And how?
31 Bob // Jun 15, 2009 at 3:13 pm
John, my first look at your site: Good Job!
Just a Ritual? My GGGranmother had her throat cut ear to ear. The trial about lasted about ten years. (As big as OJ at the time.)
Is the Temple coercive? I was for me. I was 19, (1964) on my way the the Mission field, with NO knowledge (inactive family) of what was going to happen. S.W.K (then an Apostle going through with the new missionaries), was right behind me!
32 amelia // Jun 15, 2009 at 3:16 pm
holly (#23), you describe a mission as “something coercive, because the fundamental objective of a mission is to persuade the people you interact with to embrace your beliefs and adopt your practices.” i’m curious if you find all attempts at persuasion (and persuasion is always about getting people to adopt at least your belief, if not also your practice) are coercive. is there such a thing as persuasion that is not coercive?
33 Bob // Jun 15, 2009 at 7:05 pm
#25: “It’s worth noting and making some allowance for the fact that the ceremony is rooted in a violent frontier past.”
Kristine, I don’t think the blood oaths had anything to do with the “frontier past”. These oaths have been around a long as man, to maintain secrets.
I don’t know if you took the pre-1990 oaths, but for many men, they were hardly “relics “
Millions of men in the 40s, 50s, 60s, &70s, had been taught to slit throats in the military for the wars, and many had done so. It was not just dress up for them in the Temple, it was their Church was now asking them to do it.
34 Holly // Jun 15, 2009 at 8:18 pm
John @24: the positive aspects of your mission you describe sound really, really wonderful. I’m envious of the service component you got to experience–my brother had that too, and really learned a lot from it. Unfortunately, they hadn’t implemented that when I was out. I think it’s a great idea, if for no other reason than it means that at least one day a week, missionaries will experience something more positive and rewarding than, say, being rejected door-to-door. I am sure it also helps that they learn about and try to address the genuine needs of the people they are living among and hoping to teach.
Haven’t thought much about it yet. One major emotional issue at a time.
it’s an issue of analyzing what others did to you vs. analyzing what you did to others, and yes, I concede that the second bit usually comes later.
amelia @32: i’m curious if you find all attempts at persuasion (and persuasion is always about getting people to adopt at least your belief, if not also your practice) are coercive. is there such a thing as persuasion that is not coercive?
Of course not all attempts at persuasion are coercive. Of course not. A straightforward statement like, “I really think we shouldn’t go out for a hike this morning, because it’s all gray and weather.com says it’s supposed to rain really hard” need not be coercive–though it could be, if there’s some sort of dishonest manipulation involved, or some sort of additional threat in play if the hike isn’t canceled no matter what.
How coercive something is depends on several things, including what sort of techniques are used as part of the persuasion, and what sort of ramifications are posited if the persuadee resists.
Any attempt at persuasion in which eternal damnation is posited as the result of resistance to persuasion is definitely coercive.
I’ll quote a few passages from “Not In His Image” by John Lamb Lash (which I am currently reading and finding very upsetting) to explain what I mean–though admittedly, Lash is discussing the widespread and aggressive imposition of Christianity on pagan Europe and on the Americas:
“Evangalization is a process of coercion and co-optation. People convert in order to survive in the dominant social order. If they seem to undergo a genuine, soul-centered conversion, this is more a measure of psychic adaptation than spiritual transformation. (Historians wearily repeat tales of how Pagan peoples, long after conversion, still cling to their ancestral ways.) Unless there is internal force for resistance, psychic immunity, so to speak, the individual psyche will adapt to the stress of collective imagination. It will become what it believes and forget what it knows…. The salvific message attached to Jesus the Redeemer was something the natives had better accept, or pay the consequences. The menace of the superhuman messiah backed by a vengeful father god loomed behind the promise of love embodied in the persona of Jesus.”
That last bit, “The menace of the superhuman messiah backed by a vengeful father god loomed behind the promise of love embodied in the persona of Jesus,” is still very much a part of missionary work.
I was particularly struck by the following passage, which I think gets to some of the frustration some of us have expressed at finding that if you take the church really seriously, you run the risk of being seriously hurt by it:
“Salvationist religion prevailed because it delivered the opposite of what it promised to people who were, at first, unable to perceive the double standard, and then, when they finally did see it, found themselves enmeshed in it, counting on it to show them the way out of their plight.”
The church promised me happiness and meaning. It delivered chaos and despair. And the chaos and despair got worse and worse, because I thought the chaos and despair were my fault, and that salvation from them could be found through the church, so I pursued the methods it recommended with greater and greater zeal. No. Escape could be found only by leaving the church.
35 amelia // Jun 15, 2009 at 10:08 pm
thanks for your thoughtful response, holly. some very powerful passages you shared, which certainly shed light on the ways in which missionary work could be coercive–perhaps even by definition, depending on how one conceives of god. i do think it’s possible for it not to be coercive, however. unlike john (i think i remember him writing about this), i’ve never experienced the father god as a vengeful deity, the old testament notwithstanding. somehow i grew up mormon with a vision of god as compassionate and loving and kind. i think if both the missionary and the investigator, to use mormon parlance, had such a vision of god that might lessen the possibility for coercion. i also managed to grow up not believing god damned anyone who believed differently than i. i think that attitude would also lessen the possibility of coercion.
i’m not really trying to argue that missions and missionary work are not coercive so much as that they are not by definition coercive. i certainly recognize the potential for them to be–both coercive of investigators and the missionaries themselves. and of course this is a huge tangent from john’s original post. my apologies for that. i just find the question very interesting.
to bring it back around to the question of the temple, my experience is very different from john’s in many ways. i didn’t go until 99, so i didn’t experience the same endowment he did, which is part of the difference. i think that perhaps the biggest difference is that i see all the coerciveness of the temple that john sees, along with several other problems, but it has simultaneously shaped my rather heterodox (for a mormon) understanding of life and deity more than almost anything else. and i mean that in a positive sense. so i have this very mixed bag of experience where the temple is concerned. part of me hates it for how it reinscribes horrible gender roles and stereotypes (to put it mildly) and how it coerces people into making commitments that should only be made with very serious consideration; but another part of me loves it for leading me to the conclusion that god is in us and all that matters is this moment now, not some distant afterlife with vague promises of glory.
bleh. i have no idea how much of that makes sense because i’m tired. i’d like to write more about my own experiences of the temple, but it will have to wait.
36 Bob // Jun 16, 2009 at 5:59 am
Why not a “test run” ( or walk thru) for the Temple? You see what it’s about, ponder it, and return for the “real thing” when you are ready?
I believe (correct me if I am wrong), at the Church’s beginnings, you were Baptized for your sins, but then waited a period (a year ?), to be Confirmed, and become a member of the Church(?)
37 Holly // Jun 16, 2009 at 6:04 am
Amelia @35:
i also managed to grow up not believing god damned anyone who believed differently than i.
if you feel that way, then there’s not much urgency about trying to convert someone. One of the points of missionary work, one of the ways people are inspired (coerced?) to do it, is a focus on the suffering and unhappiness that will come t0 people if they don’t become members of God’s one and only true church, the church that will give them the signs and tokens and so forth they need in order to get into the celestial kingdom (which, let’s not forget, is guarded by a gauntlet of angels asking for passwords and secret handshakes).
i think if both the missionary and the investigator, to use mormon parlance, had such a vision of god [as loving and universalist] that might lessen the possibility for coercion.
It would also lessen the need for missionary work. People who believe in a loving god who will offer salvation to people no matter what their religious beliefs don’t need to engage in either a search or proselytizing for God’s one true church. They’re more the “live and let live” crowd.
38 xJane // Jun 16, 2009 at 8:37 am
Kristine @25: this has been niggling at me, too, since I first discovered which post the Church found so objectionable that it had to excommunicate John. So, apparently, critical historic discussion of a ritual that is no longer cannon is a sin that requires expulsion from the Book of God. Yeowza. Coercive much…?
Holly @34: persuasion ≠ coercion, but the difference may be difficult to define, even if we all surely know it when we see it.
Bob @36: hear, hear! Although this may not completely negate the coercive element; I consider my Catholic confirmation to be the result of coercive pressure, but I knew full well going into it what it involved. I do think, however, that the Mormon church seems to rely so heavily on secrecy that shining the light of day upon their practices (even just among those who honestly want to know more about the faith) can only be good for them in the long run.
…I guess this just means I have nothing original to say.
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