The Book of Mormon says that the prophet Nephi spoke with
such great power that is was not possible for the people to disbelieve his
words.
[i]
Somewhat irreverently, this reminds me of Robert Nozick’s quip that it would be
great to come up with an argument so powerful that people would either have to
accept it... or die!
[ii] Amusing as
the comparison may be I don’t actually think that’s what was going on with
Nephi. I think there was something much deeper in his preaching; he wasn’t
arguing in the way we usually do. When we reason about things we move from
premises to conclusions in steps that logically follow one another. If all men
are mortal and Socrates is a man then it follows that Socrates is mortal. But
this only works if you accept the premise that all men are mortal. For the big
questions the difficult part is getting to premises that everyone agrees on. On
the most important issues like morality and religion our premises are given by
tradition. This seems like a problem because the most difficult disagreements
are between people from different traditions, people who start from different
sets of premises
[iii]. Tradition
seems to be a great gulf.
Although our different traditions separate us this doesn’t
have to preclude productive communication on important issues. Natural barriers
like gulfs and canyons are most treacherous when we don’t see them. But with
some familiarity with the terrain gulfs and canyons can be crossed, though
still with difficulty. This reminds me of a fictional correspondence written by
the Jewish thinker Samson Raphel Hirsch. In
Nineteen
Letters of Ben Uziel, a university student writes home to his rabbi with
some challenging questions
[iv]. The
student challenges various tenets and rituals of Judaism and wonders how anyone
educated in a modern, scientific society could continue to be Jewish. The rabbi
responds that it is not possible to understand or appreciate Jewish rituals and
tenets in isolation from each other; Judaism most be understood in its
totality. The beliefs and practices are intelligible only in the context of the
whole tradition. What Hirsch gave here was a method for understanding specific
teachings, rituals, and norms of a tradition—you have to dive in deep and view
these things from within the tradition, seeing how the parts fit into the
whole. Crossing the divide between traditions is possible though not simple.
I think a better understanding of our traditions and the
different premises that lead to different conclusions could help to avoid some
of the misunderstanding and offense that sometimes results in our discussions.
Speaking to each other from different traditions is a little like speaking in
translation from different languages. If you consider all the things we do in
English to make things sound more polite you can see how a person learning to
speak English could inadvertently sound rude. When we make requests or express
disagreement we have various ways to soften our language: “Would you mind…?”,
“Do you think you could…?” But knowing how a language feels requires some extensive experience and immersion into it.
Traditions are a lot like languages. They have words,
symbols, rituals, roles, stories, texts, and values. These things taken as a
whole are what make the tradition intelligible. As a Mormon American the
traditions I think about most, because I live in both, are Mormonism and what
I’ll call American individualism. These two traditions overlap at points but
there are important differences. The traditions share many of the same words
but the words have different meanings. For example, “freedom” is an important
word in Mormonism and in American individualism. But the word doesn’t have
exactly the same meaning in each tradition. As an American individualist I
understand freedom to be my right to do what I want to do and to be what I want
to be. I am free do whatever I want as long as I am not hurting anyone else in
the process. Whatever I achieve or become in life is up to me and I am not
limited by anyone else. As a Mormon I understand freedom, or agency, as my
power to act toward my divine purpose. My freedom expands as I act in
accordance with divine principles but contracts as I deviate from them
[v].
I also understand that my freedom includes accepting the results of my actions.
These understandings of freedom are not diametrically opposed. They can be
syncretized and often are. But they are different.
There are certain concepts in Mormonism that don’t translate
easily into the tradition of American individualism and it is at these
junctures where conflicts arise. Mormonism is a much more communal tradition.
We think in terms of not only ourselves but also our families, ancestors, and
descendants. Who we are and what we become is not solely up to us. We are all
connected. In the parlance of scripture there must be a welding link of some
kind between the fathers and the children, our ancestors cannot be made perfect
without us and we cannot be made perfect without them.
[vi]
The signs and symbols of Mormonism, the ordinances, the temple rituals and
liturgy, the stories and practices in which we take part immerse us in this
understanding of our eternal relationships with each other and of our own
identity. It is in this totality that family, marriage, husband, wife,
sexuality, and love are to be understood.
The tradition of American individualism is not necessarily
opposed to this dense field of relationships and symbols in Mormonism but it is
different. For example, in Mormonism sex outside of a marriage is not only
wrong; it doesn’t make any sense. The Mormon understanding of sexuality is made
intelligible by the way it fits into the practice of eternal marriage and the
understanding of our divine nature as paired beings in the image of God, our
heavenly parents. But outside of this context, translated into the tradition of
American individualism, this view of sexuality could be understood principally,
or exclusively, as just a prohibition, even an arbitrary prohibition
[vii].
And for something as important and personal as sexuality such a prohibition
feels like quite an unwarranted intrusion. There is conceptual content lost in
translation. The translated version of a concept may not mean the same thing as
the concept in the context of its original tradition and this shift in meaning can
lead to offense. This can happen with many issues.
What can I do as a Mormon to communicate more effectively
with people outside my tradition? Part of the process is mapping out the
terrain, understanding our own traditions thoroughly, and understanding enough
about other traditions to see the differences. We are usually so embedded in
our traditions that we don’t think about their foundations; we hold our
premises unconsciously. This is usually fine. But to communicate effectively
with people from other traditions we need to understand our own better.
[viii]
This is a process of reasoning and investigation. It’s a process of making
connections between concepts, practices, and values and seeing how they come
together as a whole. What is the connection between our physical bodies and the
sacrament
[ix]?
How does marriage relate to the Atonement of Christ? How is our agency both
individual and social? How does baptism bring us into the community of the
church? How does the Spirit of Elijah
[x]
affect the way I understand my own identity? Some of my favorite conversations
about Mormonism have been with people who weren’t Mormon. They have asked me
things I never would have thought of asking. And I’ve learned a lot after
thinking about their questions.
This process of reasoning and investigation is very
rewarding for another reason: it empowers us to participate more effectively in
the conversations within our own tradition. Traditions are not static, at least
not if they are in good health. There are different ideas within traditions but
unlike the differences between traditions the differences within traditions work
with shared concepts, symbols, rituals, roles, stories, texts, and values. This
means that as an American I work with the heritage of texts like The Declaration
of Independence and the Constitution. As I Mormon I speak with the language of
The Bible and The Book of Mormon. The relationships between all these texts,
symbols, and values are complex. Some passages of scripture may not fit easily
with other passages or with other aspects of the tradition. For example,
Mormons have a conception of what kind of life is of greatest value: marriage
between a man and women, raising children together in the ways of the Gospel of
Christ. But this ideal is not available to everyone for various reasons. What
are we to make of this? Fortunately, the scriptures have resources we can use. For
example, in the Gospel of Luke we find the parable of the lost sheep, the
parable of the prodigal son, and the parable of the lost coin. These parables directly
address the repentance of sinners but could also be interpreted more broadly to
address other issues. This kind of language—the language of scripture, symbols,
and the values of a tradition—is the kind of language that will be effective
and intelligible within a tradition.
The process of reasoning within and between traditions makes
rational progress possible. The conversations within our traditions can
generate novel concepts and find solutions to problems using the concepts,
symbols, and values we already have as building materials. We can also
appropriate ideas from other traditions that, by our own standards, we find
useful and expand our understanding. Finally our experiences in the world, whether
from the natural sciences or the existential challenges of our lives, also
affect and inform our traditions. For example, with our expanded understanding
of astronomy it would not be possible for one to believe, as did the ancient
Greeks, in a geocentric universe with the planets embedded in rotating crystal
spheres. Closer to home, our ways of understanding the world and God change as
we pass through life's challenges and tragedies. In these experiences some ways
of understanding the world and the resources provided by our traditions will be
more helpful or more plausible than others. Thus traditions are not
impenetrable walls that trap us into rigid, inflexible ways of seeing the
world. They can adapt, appropriate, and expand through the history of a
community or the life of an individual.
Building relationships with people, within your own
tradition or from another tradition is hard work. It requires patience and
energy. But I think it can be very rewarding. Paul said that he became all
things to all people. To the Jews he became a Jew. To those under the law he
became as one under the law. To those outside the law he became as one outside
the law. To the weak he became weak
[xi]. In this I
think he was imitating Christ. The Book of Mormon says that the Lord speaks to
people according to their language and their understanding
[xii].
There is a pattern in scripture of the Lord coming closer to us to enter into a
more intimate relationship with us. He does this by speaking our language
according to our understanding and he did this by becoming one of us as a
mortal man. There is also a recurring call in scripture to imitate Christ, to
die like Christ, and rise again like Christ in his life
[xiii].
I wonder if we could imitate Christ in his efforts to speak to others according
to their language and understanding, to imitate his incarnation by becoming
what other people are to enter into a closer relationship with them.
[ii] Robert
Nozick,
Philosophical Explanations
[iii] My ideas
on this subject are heavily influenced by Alasdair MacIntyre.
[iv] Sampson
Raphael Hirsch,
Nineteen Letters of Ben
Uziel
[vi] Doctrine
and Covenants 128:15,18
[vii] This may
be a case where the misunderstanding has worked its way back into the original
tradition. Even within Mormonism we sometimes put undue emphasis on prohibition
without adequate doctrinal context.
[viii] Doctrine
and Covenants 11:21
[ix] The Mormon
sacrament is similar to the Eucharist.
[x] The Spirit
of Elijah is the inspiration we feel to seek after our ancestors.
[xi] 1
Corinthians 9:20-22
