Formula for Faith

I came across this article a few days ago, and could not help but share it here. Reading the title, you might assume that it is the exit story of some disenchanted member of the LDS church who simply repeats all of the criticisms of Joseph Smith, Jr. Actually, it is a much more interesting story than that.

In sum, a young woman and her mother were convinced through the Holy Ghost that a charismatic man (who was not Joseph Smith, Jr.) was a prophet, and became willing to do anything he asked, even far beyond the point of it becoming uncomfortable and apparently immoral. He was able to gain their loyalty through a combination of confidence, flattery, and promises of certain rewards for their obedience to him.

Of course, I draw attention to the parallels of this story with that of the founder of the LDS church. All Joseph Smith, Jr. did was to confidently tell people that he had all sorts of supernatural powers, possessed ancient and sacred plates, and that he was the supreme authority of God on earth. He flattered his followers by claiming that they were the elect, chosen people. He promised them rewards of whatever they desired most - eternal families, mansions in heaven, eternity with their Heavenly Father, peace, and salvation.

Just as the man in the story, Smith eventually convinced many of his followers to do extremely uncomfortable and seemingly immoral things.

What I find disturbing is that so many people still cling to Smith for exactly the same reasons that the women in this story clung to "Adam". There is seemingly no difference between Smith and Adam. If my LDS friends and family members were in the position that these women were, it seems that they would still be following Adam, just as they are following Smith.

If I were to pray about Adam and get a sinking feeling, his followers would likely tell me that the devil is working hard to keep me from believing, that I lack the faith and confidence in God to receive the correct answer, that I don't know what the Holy Ghost feels like, that my heart is not prepared to receive the answer, that I am receiving the answer in other ways I do not recognize (source). They would tell me to read Adam's "translations", to sing songs that praise him, and then to kneel and pray aloud with "real intent" until I finally did believe in Adam (source).

In essence, there is no possible way of convincing an irrational human being that Adam was just a power hungry, manipulative, charismatic con artist. They have a hundred ways to explain away his deeds, most importantly their own conviction. There is similarly no way to convince some followers of Joseph Smith, Jr. that he was exactly the same thing.

Supply & Demand

I recently watched an interesting documentary that is entirely relevant to this blog. The film is entitled Kumaré, and the idea behind it was to examine the role of a religious leader. In brief, the filmmaker is a fairly ordinary skeptic who decides that he will dress and behave like a wise and deeply spiritual leader, and simply see what happens (Netflix link).

I highly recommend watching the documentary, but here is my summary. The actor, Vikram Gandhi, advertises his services, and gains a few followers. With no real basis for them, he makes up some completely ambiguous chants and yoga-like exercises and meditations to use with his followers. Many of them are searching for answers, which he, "Kumaré" provides to the best of his knowledge as a completely ordinary person playing the role of a spiritual leader. Many of the followers express a deep connection to Kumaré, and sense his "purity" of intention. Many clearly put a great deal of faith in his every word, and even as he attempts to instruct them that everything he says and is is really an illusion, they continue to follow him and his ordinary wisdom. Something begins to happen as Kumaré connects with his dedicated followers and seeks to help them with their personal problems; He begins to understand the enormous responsibility that comes with his newfound power and influence. When the time comes to reveal to his followers that he is not, in fact, what he has pretended to be, and that he has no more knowledge or wisdom than any other person, he becomes intensely anxious, and is unable to tell them of the deception. After much more planning and soul searching, Vikram eventually reveals to his congregation that he is not Kumaré, but an ordinary person. His followers have mixed responses, but overall lovingly accept him and acknowledge that his works were valuable. One woman even insists that he does, in fact, have psychic powers even if he does not recognize them.

I wish to address several themes I gleaned from the film. First is the fact that the followers were searching for something - answers. Each of Kumaré's followers had some problem or need in their lives, and each believed that the problem could be solved or the need could be met through some "spiritual" methods. In other words, there was a clear demand for answers, and the followers believed they required someone to supply the answers.

Second, Kumaré had the appearance of a man who had answers. He had none in reality, or at least not any better answers than anyone else might have. What was important was that he supplied the illusion that he had answers, and that is all that the followers really wanted. He grew a long beard, put on a robe, carried a staff, and spoke in simple terms. The followers wanted to believe that he was wise and had an advanced perspective on the universe, so he simply met their expectations, however uninformed or faulty.

Finally, I find the interaction of the two positions fascinating. Kumaré hardly ever truly gave his followers advice, because he really didn't have any answers. He often redirected their questions back to them, asking them what advice they might give to themselves, for example. And yet, simply from the nature of the relationship, the followers needed him as some sort of symbol or direction, so remained dependent upon him. He, on the other hand, was told day after day that he was making a huge impact in their lives - the followers constantly remarked to him how he had changed their lives, how they admired him. By the end of the film, Vikram felt an overpowering need to be Kumaré for these people. Even though he had done nothing but provide some sort of superficial hope and safety for them, that was what they most needed. The meaning of what he had provided to them was far more valuable than the shallow words he had used. 

I argue that Kumaré could have used any manner of words or approach, but that as long as he provided the message of hope and validation, he would have gained followers anywhere. I believe that is what religious disciples seek first and foremost. The details are almost irrelevant. This is clearly evidenced by the deliberate ignorance of so many LDS at the significant problems with Church doctrines and history. As long as the LDS church offers a message of hope and tells them they are right to believe it, almost no amount of reality will deter them. I could name any number of other spiritual groups or cults where people seeking answers were caught up in a leader's charisma and hopeful message (no matter how strange); these followers sometimes become willing to do anything the leader asks, even if bizarre or unconscionable.



In the documentary, Vikram was just a curious skeptic. With a little imagination, it is easy to comprehend the real damage he could have done if he were a manipulative or corrupt man. By simply pretending to be a compassionate, wise man, with some perspective on life, he almost immediately had control of his followers. A manipulative or corrupt man could easily begin to take advantage of their vulnerability and trust to get them to do unbelievable things.

Through the documentary, I found new perspective on Joseph Smith, Jr. Perhaps I will spend more time on this in the future, but I have pondered Smith for some time now - why did he do what he did? At this point, I do not believe that Smith started the LDS church with purely evil intentions. I believe they were selfish reasons, perhaps to make a few dollars and have some entertainment, but not purely psychopathic. I think most likely he saw the huge demand people of that day and age had for religious guidance, and so he decided that he would step in and become a supplier. Maybe he knew that all religious leaders need is confidence and a message people want to believe. He had witnessed firsthand the methods that religious leaders of his day used to gain followers and he thought to himself, "I bet I could do that." He practiced his methods by claiming to be a scryer - confidently claiming that he knew how to locate buried treasures (more). All he needed was some demand for such services - and everyone wanted to find treasure - and he would confidently deliver the hopeful message of knowing its location. The problem, of course, is that he never once actually delivered treasure. 

Regardless of Smith's original motives in making spectacular claims about golden plates and visions, the documentary calls another interesting point into question - could Smith have come clean? Perhaps the whole LDS church began as an experiment for Smith. Maybe he just wanted to see if he could pull it off. But, just as Vikram found it unbearable to let down his followers, who had come to depend on him so, could it be that Smith came to feel obligated to continue his charade? 

I am a doctoral student in psychology, and cannot help but consider some psychological principles here. Social psychology's theory of cognitive dissonance, for example, proposes that, when faced with such dilemmas, we typically mold our thoughts and feelings to match our actions. Perhaps at some level Smith really felt guilty for misleading innocent people, but felt that coming clean and admitting that he was no prophet would have done more damage to his vulnerable followers (or it would at least get him killed). Freud might have argued that Smith's polygynous practices were an unconscious attempt to be found out as a fraud so that he could finally relieve his conscience of its burden. Or perhaps after years of hearing his followers' praise, he eventually came to believe that he really was more than a man. After all, even palm readers and other psychics must believe at some level that they really have supernatural powers if they are not entirely malicious manipulators. People return to them, and keep paying their money. Smith may have seen his growing army of followers and their willingness to do anything for him as evidence that he must have been more than a mere man. 

There may also be something to learn about subsequent Church leaders here. I recently read an interesting opinion about the current leaders of the Church. The question is if they truly know deep down that the Church is not what it claims, but feel obligated to the members to continue to put on the show (or have they become the liars and manipulators Joseph Smith was?). I think that using the Kumaré experiment as a reference point, it is easy to understand how a normal member of the Church could rise to a position of prestige, learn more of the troubling reality of the Church's history, but as a combination of their celebrity status (which extends to their family), their promised blessings, the decades and dollars they committed to the Church, and, perhaps most importantly, the millions of members whose lives depend on the message, that these leaders cannot allow themselves to entertain the possibility that they were lied to and, therefore, misled their children and friends. Truly considering that thought is potentially painful, and may have serious consequences (as any of us who has left the Church knows). Friends will be lost, social status revoked, family relationships damaged, and perhaps even marriages broken (see my earlier post on this topic). 

And yet, just as Vikram wrestled with these questions and finally decided that, no matter how painful, the truth must be revealed, that is where I stand. It is because Vikram cared for his followers that he told them the truth. He knew the truth might be painful, but he believed his followers deserved to know, and that they were strong enough to no longer need the lie. Similarly, it is precisely because I care for my family and friends that I have told them the truth about the LDS church. Whether they still need the lie or not is their decision, but I refuse to perpetuate it any longer.

"Am I therefore become your enemy, because I tell you the truth?" - Gal. 4:16

Validation

During the Holiday season, I witnessed the innocent joys and excitement that accompany Christmas morning. I recall with pleasure the anticipation on Christmas Eves when I was a child. It can be such a joyful time.

This Christmas I stayed with a family with several young boys. The parents encourage belief in Santa Claus, and spent several days before the holiday reinforcing this belief. They told the stories, they showed the movies that encourage faith in him even when others doubt, the kids even received emails regarding their status on the "naughty or nice" scale. It is quite the elaborate scheme to keep a false belief alive in children who are so eager to accept the fantastic.

Christmas morning, when all were awake and the children were noisily attending to their presents, one of the younger boys approached me and told me that he was sure he had heard Santa's sleigh during the night. I asked him to tell me more, and he told me that he had heard some taps from somewhere above him, so he was absolutely sure that it must have been Santa's sleigh and reindeer. I smiled and he moved on to his presents, but I found the experience applicable to this blog. My interpretation is this; the young child had been taught a lie since he could speak, and had been taught from other sources that his reward would come if he believed even when others did not. He was eager to take part in the fantasy because it is an enjoyable story that teaches us to be mindful of others and to be kind to our neighbor, and because he was promised a reward for believing. Naturally, after being told that a supernatural being would visit that night, he listened carefully for any sign at all of his coming. Because normal household noises were all that came, he insisted that these must be the evidence of the supernatural being's presence, and the truthfulness of the premise upon which his belief was built.

I cannot help but relate this experience to the LDS faith. Children are taught the Book of Mormon stories from birth, these stories are reinforced through books and movies throughout their lives. At several points, they are promised rewards for belief even when others doubt, and even when there is clear reason to doubt. They are told that a supernatural being will visit them to confirm their belief, and so they search for any sign at all that he has come. Any naturally occurring positive emotion is labeled as evidence that the supernatural being is present, and so the belief is emotionally validated.

It appears to me that emotional validation is what both examples are really about. We train children to want to believe in Santa because if they do they will get a toy. Similarly we train children to want to believe that the Book of Mormon is sacred because if they do they will get special powers (e.g., the Gift of the Holy Ghost, the priesthood, etc.), they will gain blessings (e.g., joy, knowledge, etc.), and ultimately, they will receive mansions in the highest glory imaginable for eternity. Why would one not want to believe that? After instilling this desire to believe, they search hungrily for any validation of that belief, whether it be tracks in the snow that might be interpreted as a reindeer's or whether it is something pleasant happening that can be interpreted as a "tender mercy" from God.

Indeed, it seems that what the LDS call "the Spirit" is not necessarily anything more than the feeling of validation. Any word or song that sends the message that it is okay to believe what you do, and you are not the only one, is described in the LDS world as "the Spirit". Members often speak of attending church to be edified (e.g., D&C 84:106); in other words, having gone through a trying few days between meetings, members need a spiritual uplifting. I have heard on more than one occasion a member say something like, "I really need to feel the Spirit today." Perhaps the more accurate statement would be something like, "I really need to feel validated today." In many ways, an LDS testimony meeting does not appear to be much more than a series of like-minded people validating each others' beliefs. Once a member feels validated, he or she describes it as feeling "the Spirit".

While beliefs may offer comfort and hope, and anything providing validation of that belief is held as sacred, isn't it reasonable to expect the LDS teachings to be backed up by some logic and consistency? If it is not, why would it be unreasonable to bear testimony that Santa Claus is real?

Measures

In humankind's search for the truth, there are several tests we put to possible explanations of phenomena. Often, we must use indirect methods of measuring those that are not easily quantifiable otherwise. For example, when a person desires to know how many trees grow in a year, he can physically count each tree. But if a person wants to know the difference in temperature between a boiling pot and a refrigerator, he will need something that can measure temperatures: a thermometer. An adequate measure requires a minimum of two characteristics: validity and reliability. If a measure is valid it assesses the phenomenon it was meant to (e.g., a scale is valid if it actually assesses weight). A measure is reliable if the result is consistent throughout trials (e.g., a bathroom scale is reliable if it measures same object at 20 lbs. today, tomorrow, and a week from now). Both of these characteristics are required simultaneously of an accurate measure. A valid, but unreliable, bathroom scale would assess weight, but today it may show that I am 130 lbs., while tomorrow it may show that I am 240 lbs. In contrast, a reliable, but invalid, measure would be similar to me stepping on a bathroom scale to read my temperature - it would give me essentially the same result whenever I stepped on it, but the information would not be that I sought.

With the two required characteristics of an adequate measure in mind, let us examine the LDS church's ultimate measure of truth: an emotional experience.

Firstly, is an emotional experience reliable? I submit that it is sometimes reliable. Similar stimuli often trigger similar emotions. When I watch a scary movie, I usually feel something I would describe as fear. Thus, a fear response might reliably happen every time I watch a scary movie. However, feelings are very often less than reliable. For example, the same piece of music may evoke a feeling of peace or excitement at the first few hearings, but another time may cause feelings of urgency or jealousy. After dozens of hearings, the same song may even become a nuisance. Even further, the same song may cause one to feel bliss and another to feel nausea. Regarding the LDS church, while reading the Book of Mormon may evoke peace and hope at one time, it may also cause boredom, confusion, or feelings of inadequacy at others. Certainly then, an emotional experience is not very reliable.

Secondly, is an emotional experience valid? Again, I submit that it is sometimes valid. For example, if I feel valued, it is likely a result of people around me who treat me like I am important and wanted. But if I feel lucky, it does not necessarily mean that I am likely to win the lottery. If I feel peace and hope after a Sunday School lesson, it may mean that the message was full of good, hopeful things. It usually does not mean that everyone felt the same way, however. But many feel nothing, confusion, or disgust after praying about Joseph Smith's purported vision, while others report peace, comfort, joy, etc. So again, emotions are sometimes valid.

If both reliability and validity are required of an accurate measure of the truth, it seems that an emotional response is far from adequate. Just as one would not use a barometer to time a baking cake, or trust a speedometer that never rises above 5 mph., one should not base a judgment of the organization of the universe and path to eternal salvation on something as unreliable and often invalid as an emotion.

The Source of All Knowledge

I believe that the single most significant and influential teaching of the LDS church, and the reason that it is as large as it is today, is the idea that an emotion is a communication from God. Not only that the emotion is from God, but also that anything else is of no value. To break it down, the LDS church teaches that (a) an emotional reaction is a message from the creator of the universe, (b) no matter what the emotion is it leads to the conclusion that the Church is true, and (c) declaring that all other sources of information are irrelevant unless they are in sync with the Church being true.

The problem is that it is one of the easiest things in the world to evoke an emotional response. A few notes on the piano will easily move one emotionally. A single look from another person can cause one to feel fear, lust, anger, peace, etc. A few lines of a poem can bring one to tears. A scene in a movie can evoke these same emotions.

The missionaries teach investigators that good feelings about some Church teachings witness that the teachings are true (source). But if one hears another doctrine of the Church that evokes a different emotional response, like disgust, that is apparently not a message from God, because it might lead one to conclude that the Church is not what it claims to be (more). Then, when someone such as I tries to investigate the real history and teachings of the Church, and finds strong physical, archaeological, or logical evidence that it is not what it claims to be, the Church insists that all those clues are irrelevant compared to the emotional conviction they have. Doctrine & Covenants, for example, states:

Verily, verily, I say unto you, if you desire a further witness, cast your mind upon the night that you cried unto me in your heart, that you might know concerning the truth of these things (Section 6:22).

In other words, if something seems like it's not right - if it seems like you need more from the Church to keep following it - what you are supposed to do is recall the one time you did feel good about it. If you feel bad about it now, there's nothing wrong with the Church, you just need to start feeling good again.

In brief, if you ever have a positive feeling about any part of the Church, it must be true. Any bad feelings you have about it are distractions from Satan. I've spent a very long time trying to come up with an adequate analogy, but it's so nonsensical that nothing fits. So here's a try:

Emotions are easily swayed, much like a feather moving in the breeze. So imagine a feather tied to a string, hanging from a tree branch. A man sits under the tree and watches the feather one day. A bird up on the branch tells the man that it is a magic feather - it can predict the weather. If the feather moves to the north, there is a thunderstorm coming. If it moves south, there will be sunshine. If it moves east, there will be snow, and if it moves west, there will be rain. The man watches for a while and the feather dances mostly Northwest. He sees some storm clouds off in the distance and concludes that the feather is magic. The next day, the feather sways eastward, but it stays sunny and warm. The man says, "Well, I already know it's a magic feather." So when he learns later in the day that it snowed in Alaska that day, his conclusion is confirmed. "The feather's magic is so powerful, that it could see it was snowing hundreds of miles away!" The next day, the feather moves to the south, and the sun shines. It is indeed a magic feather! The next day it blows to the west, but the sun shines again. A week later, it finally does rain and the man is awestruck that it not only predicted the weather, but that it did it a week in advance!

An easily-influenced variable is given ultimate authority. But when the easily-influenced variable acts unpredictably it is meaningless, or still evidence of the purported source's authenticity. This logic contains no real connection between what happens and what is real.

Doublespeak

Early on in my LDS experience I noticed an intricate, albeit subtle, pattern in the Church's methods of conversion and retention. It may be one of the simplest methods in principle, yet also one of the most invasive. The method to which I refer is often called "doublespeak." It is language characterized by deliberate attempts to mislead or distort reality (more). The reader may be surprised to learn that doublespeak is used daily, in almost every setting imaginable (Chomsky has addressed it as well). However, for the purposes of this blog, this post will focus on the LDS church's use of doublespeak in its attempts to convert, retain, and control. The following are a few main examples:

• "Knowledge" in place of "Belief"/"Hope"/even "Want." Consider the statement, "I know the Church is true." As I have addressed before, no one really knows if the Church's doctrines are accurate. Every single time a general authority, bishop, nursery leader, or seminary teacher says, "I know it's true," he or she is using doublespeak. The accurate statement would be "I believe it's true," "I hope it's true," or even "I want it to be true." In reality, when LDS use "knowledge," they refer to anything short of knowledge. The Church practice propagates the distortion of reality with the misuse of the word.

• "Volunteer" in place of "Submit." The most obvious example of this form of doublespeak is in the Church's claim that full-time missionary work is voluntary. In reality, male members are all but forced to go (see some interviews here; a talk by Hinckley). While no one holds a gun to a young man's head, and many are excited at the chance to go, to call it "voluntary" ignores the negative consequences one may suffer by not going. One fears he will never be desirable to young LDS women, will suffer humiliation, will be socially ostracized, members will question what horrible things he must have done to not have "volunteered." Although the word may apply to some young men and women, it is neither fair nor accurate to apply it to all missionaries.
  

• "Truth" in place of "Church's teachings." Similar to "knowledge," when leaders speak of "the truth," they usually refer simply to the doctrine taught by the LDS church (example). Of course, if they were to refer to it accurately, it would not have the powerful but deceptive emotional impact on those who hear. Contrast the statement, "If you follow these truths, you will know they are of God," with "If you follow the Church's teachings, you will come to believe they are of God." The latter statement corresponds with reality more than the former, but if one's goal is to create an anchor based on emotion, the first statement is the better choice.
  

• "Donations" in place of "Membership fees." Again, while no one holds a gun to members' heads, Church doctrine and policy contain several threats against its members should they fail to pay the required funds. For example, members who pay tithing are guaranteed not to be burned at the last day (D&C 64:23). Of course, the other side of this is that not "donating" carries the threat of being burned alive. Additionally, if one cannot or will not pay the full 10% of his or her income, that person cannot have full membership (i.e., hold a temple recommend). Thus, tithing is absolutely required to be a full member of the LDS church. To require a donation is contradictory at its essence, and thus another use of doublespeak to mislead and distort reality. Members believe they are willingly writing their checks, when they are actually just paying their dues so that they may attend sealings, be involved in ward temple day, etc (examples and discussion).

• "Faith" in place of "Gullibility"/"Ignorance"/"Vulnerability"/"Rejecting Conscience." Although not misused every time, the word "faith" is often wrongfully applied. Whenever I have spoken to members about my concerns with Church history and doctrine, they inevitably say that they take it on "faith" that these disturbing things have explanations that they are incapable of knowing now. In other words, they are leaving themselves endlessly vulnerable to the deceptions of men (Eph. 4:14) by not paying attention to the warning signs. When one has natural moral objections to the actions of Joseph Smith, but rejects his or her conscience to overcome the cognitive or spiritual dissonance, one becomes the definition of gullible, ignorant, and vulnerable (more discussion). The Church suggests that if one objects to something horrible that Smith did, the task is to become more vulnerable and reject the objections (i.e., have more faith), rather than for the leaders to give an explanation. While faith should refer to the hope and belief in something we cannot know, I argue that it should not discount what we can and do know. Yet that is precisely how the Church uses it.
  

• "Service" in place of "Required labor." Again, "service" is required in the Church. To not accept a "calling" is to reject the will of God (source). No one holds a gun to members' heads, but would one dare to question the being who grants him or her breath (Isaiah 42:5)? Thus, to call it "service" is another distortion of reality.

• "The Holy Ghost" in place of "A good feeling." The majority of missionary work is accomplished by attributing good feelings to a supernatural being called "the Holy Ghost" (source). If one feels good about joining the LDS church, that feeling is called a manifestation of this supernatural being. If one has similar feelings about selling the copyright of the Book of Mormon, then it is from another supernatural being called "Satan" (source). If one has a similar feeling about chocolate ice cream, then it is just a good feeling. In other words, the Church calls a good feeling by several other terms according to how it serves the purposes of its alleged divinity. The feeling is what it is, but the Church uses doublespeak to present it as whatever else it likes.
  

• "Satan" in place of "Bad luck"/"Second thoughts"/"Reason." When I began to logically sort out my concerns, I was told by members that "Satan" had a hold on me. Satan was apparently working very hard to help me in the process of finding reasonable answers to my questions. Members often speak of how hard "Satan" works just before someone gets baptized. In reality, the potential convert is having natural concerns (i.e., "second thoughts") about making a life commitment to an organization about which he or she knows relatively little. But missionaries call those reasonable concerns the work of Satan.

These are just a few small examples of terminology the LDS church uses to distort reality. When one begins to uncover this elaborate code, the illusion can begin to fade. These things and more can be seen for what they are. The seeker of real, unadulterated truth will see reality without the lenses and filters of deceptive language. The shaky frame of dogma will collapse, to reveal the potential for real growth.

If, Then

There is usually a logical flow from evidence to conclusion in most things. For example, if it is snowing outside, then I can reasonably conclude that it is also cold; if my car runs, it is reasonable to conclude that there is also gas in the tank.

Truth tends to work in this direction. We observe evidence, and are led to the appropriate conclusion of that evidence. To get to the next step, the next piece of evidence must be found.

In the LDS world, however, I have noticed a pattern of misapplying certain evidences to reach unwarranted conclusions. For example, these follow a logical flow:

• If the Book of Mormon gives one a lot of strength in life, then it is reasonable to conclude it is a book that can lift one up.
• If the Book of Mormon teaches one to have more faith, then it is a wonderful book on faith.
• If it helps a mother to love her children, then it is an excellent guide on parenting.

However, even if all of the above things are true, it is not reasonable to use any of them to conclude that the Book of Mormon is an historical document, translated from plates of gold. Evidence that would support that theory might be found in archaeology, linguistic studies, DNA research on the claims of the book, and so on. Unfortunately, virtually all such research has failed to support the book as anything more than a product of a religious-minded young man living in a region full of spiritual debate during the 19th Century.

To read the Book of Mormon and like the themes, and even to feel good about the content, does not mean that it was divinely inspired. On the same note, jumping to conclusions about Joseph Smith based on unrelated evidence can be misguided.

• If Joseph Smith inspired millions, then he was a charismatic leader.
• If he converted thousands with his words, then he was a powerful orator.
• If he stood up against threats against his life and suffered through prison, then he was a very brave (or at least motivated) man.
• But it is problematic to use any of the above evidences to go beyond their corresponding conclusions and decide that they point to Joseph Smith as a prophet of God. Every chance that might have supported the latter claim has proven damaging to it; his purported translations, his private life, inaccurate prophecies, his unChristlike actions, etc.

We would not jump to erroneous conclusions in other areas. One does not propose to a woman simply because she says she likes kids. One does not purchase a house simply because it has a large garage. One does not purchase a car simply because it has a balloon tied to the mirror. One does not invest in stock simply because it has a catchy name. In each of these cases, one should do more investigation until the evidence leads to the appropriate action. Just as one would not fall to his or her knees and worship a television magician after a card trick, one should not conclude that Joseph Smith was a prophet or that the Book of Mormon is an historical record after feeling good about them. There are vital pieces missing in between.

Coerced Faith

Probably the most fundamental problem I have with organized religions in general is their basic premise. Many of the religions with which I am familiar carry the underlying message of "If you do not accept and follow what I say, without any shred of evidence, then you will be punished." Sometimes the preachers carry out the punishment here in life (take a look at radical Islam), and sometimes the punishment lingers until the afterlife (see pp. 52-53 of Preach My Gospel). Of course, the LDS church veils this threat as an "invitation to obtain salvation" but the result is the same. You must believe without any compelling reason other than because you were told so (e.g., D&C 46:9).

By the way, anybody else who tells you to accept what they preach without a shred of evidence or you will be punished is a liar, has been deceived, or is working for the devil (Matt. 24:4-5, 11). But not the LDS church. No, they're the one and only sincere threat.

Why is it that some people find favor in the sources of threats? Why is it that some people remain attracted to the very source of punishment? A similar phenomenon occurs with victims of domestic abuse. Compare some of these reasons the abused stays with the abuser with why believers may stay with the threatening source of eternal damnation. Week after week believers are told they are not yet good enough; that their wants and desires are sinful; that they must remain loyal no matter the odds; that they will only suffer if they attempt to leave; that they are bad if they question the doctrine or those in authority. For the same reasons that a bright woman may stay with an abusive spouse, believers are similarly molded to "want" to stay with the threatening Church.

In contrast, the message I get from science, reason, logic, and common sense is "Here's all the evidence I can possibly find. Here's what I conclude, but sort it out for yourself too, correct me if I'm wrong. If you don't believe it, no problem; you'll be just fine."

Which message sounds more honest?

Speaking Against Majority

Recently a commenter asked me why I do not simply remain silent about the reasons for my decision. Why create a blog about it? Why not just let the Church be and go on my way? I would like to revisit this here.

In 1956, a scientist named Asch was interested in conformity. Specifically, he wanted to know under what circumstances people conform to group pressures, and under what circumstances a person would not. Here's what he did:

Asch brought seven of his own students into a classroom. These seven were confederates (i.e., they knew what the study was about and were given instructions on how to behave). Asch then brought in the study participant, who thought that everyone else in the classroom was also a regular participant. Up on the board in the room was a set of two cards (there were a total of 12 sets) that looked something like this:
The researcher went down the line asking each of the participants to say which of the three lines on the right card most closely matched the length of the line on the left card. The confederates were instructed to give false answers on 7 of the 12 trials. What the researcher wanted to know was how the naive participant would respond depending on what the majority of the group said. It was obvious which line actually matched the model, so would the participant choose the right answer even when the majority chose the wrong answer?

What he found was that about 37% of participants gave an incorrect answer every time the confederates did, and about 75% of participants gave at least one incorrect answer when confederates did.

But getting back to the question, here's the most interesting finding, I think; when just one of the confederates went against the rest and chose the correct answer, participants were much more likely to also choose the correct answer. When just one confederate went against the other six, only 5-10% of the participants conformed to the majority!

To put it plainly, it seems that people will often choose something that they perceive as obviously wrong in order to go along with the majority around them (even in something as trivial as a visual test). The reasons for this could vary greatly, but most participants blamed their behavior on poor eyesight (which was controlled for in another part of the study). In other words, these people said to themselves, "Gee, I guess there's something going on here I don't understand. Everybody else seems to think B is the right answer, so maybe what I'm experiencing is wrong."

We see this kind of thing all the time in the LDS church; a believer first learns about polygamy or the denial of priesthood to Black persons, and tells himself, "Gee, that doesn't seem right. But there are so many other people here that think it's okay, so there must be something wrong with my perception. I'd better just do what they are doing."

But the study shows that if just one person has the courage to speak his or her mind and say, "Hold on a second - I really don't think that line B is the right answer. Every way I'm looking at it from right here says that line C is right," then the next person is that much more likely to say what he or she is really thinking. That person is much more likely to trust in his or her own judgment.

This is a large part of why I do not stay silent. I'm saying, "I really am not seeing how B could be the answer; here's why..." I sat on that back row for most of my life saying what everyone else was saying, even though it was not at all what I was seeing. Now, I am calling it like I see it, and if someone can explain to me how line B is more correct than line C, I am completely willing to discuss it. If someone else has been in that position for most of his or her life, feeling very uncomfortable about what he or she is seeing (or not seeing) on the Sunday School board, I am attempting to be that voice that says, "Follow your conscience. No matter what the majority says, follow your conscience. And call it like you see it."

Reference

Asch, S. E. (1956). Studies on independence and conformity: A minority of one against a unanimous majority. Psychological Monographs, 70(9).

Deal Breaker

It's no secret that the final straw in my decision to leave the LDS church was the doctrine of plural marriage (most of my posts surround it in some way). More specifically, it was the exact form of plural marriage as practiced by Joseph Smith that broke the back of the camel that was my trust in the Church and its leaders. Of all of the reasons to leave a religion, particularly the LDS church, many have wondered why that was the deal breaker.

The answer is that family is the most important thing in the world to me. My ultimate goal in this life is to raise a happy, healthy family, where my children grow up surrounded by love, my wife remains my best friend and I hers, and my children eventually grow to be productive, content members of society whose existence has benefited those around them.

Anything that hinders me from this goal is to be overcome. Plural marriage, especially as practiced by Joseph Smith, not only obstructs my goal, but stands in direct conflict with it. I cannot allow polygamy to have any place in my life, even the afterlife, if it directly contradicts what I hold most sacred. Hence, I am compelled to fully reject it and anything that advocates its practice and calls it righteous.

I cannot reconcile the practices of Smith, Young, Kimball, and others with what I feel and want for my wife and daughter. I refuse to let my daughter grow up believing that she does not have the God-given right to complete emotional and physical fidelity from her husband. I refuse to let her believe that she would not be entitled to the joy that comes from equal partnership between a husband and wife when both are fully dedicated to each other and the family above all else. I refuse to let her believe that God would frown upon her for defending her virtue (see D&C 132:54; and this example of "God" threatening a young girl and her entire family if she refused to marry Smith).

If God cannot look upon sin with the least degree of allowance (Alma 45:16; D&C 1:31), maybe the LDS church needs to stop trying to justify the evil doctrines and practices of its leaders. Either (a) the family is the central unit in God's plan (source), or (b) polygamy is an eternal principle, marrying other men's wives is righteousness, and coercing 14-year-olds into marriage with men 3 times their age is justifiable. As far as I can tell, these two are incompatible.

And I have chosen my family.

Realities Collide

I am terrified of spiders. I have been for as long as I can remember. Just the other day I was loading the dishwasher when a small spider surprised me on the dishwasher's edge. It got away and I was almost unable to go into the kitchen for a couple of hours for fear of it.

The emotion was very real. I cannot deny the feeling I had. My heart was racing and I was irritable, agitated, and anxious long after the encounter with the little arachnid. Nothing on this Earth could convince me that I did not experience what I did. I felt it with every fiber of my being without a doubt.

But while the emotion was absolutely real, the fear was groundless. The spider was absolutely harmless. I had no rational reason at all to be afraid.
Yet I was.

Realities collide when I see spiders. I have no reason to be afraid, and yet I am. The feeling contradicts reason, yet I cannot keep from feeling it. The fear is absolutely real, but it does not make the spider any more of a threat.

Perhaps there is a parallel here with the LDS church's methodology in obtaining absolute truth. The only reason I have to behave the way I do is my emotional state, no matter how ridiculous and unsupported by other realities (i.e., factual knowledge that spiders are not a threat to my safety).

Similarly, the feeling that believers have when hearing/praying about Joseph Smith's final version of the First Vision is no doubt a real feeling. I do not wish to argue that it is pretense or exaggerated. What I do suggest is that, just like my fear of spiders does not make them more of a threat, a love of Joseph Smith does not make his final version of the First Vision any more of a factual event occurring anywhere other than in his mind.

You may ask, "If it is not true, why would I feel so strongly about it?" Fiction moves us emotionally/spiritually all the time. How many of us have literally cried when reading a book or seeing a good movie? After the final chapters of a trilogy I read years ago, I became depressed for several days because I had become so attached to the characters and I felt their pain very literally as they were separated forever. It was not the words printed on the page that moved me, but becoming so involved in the story that it felt real. The emotions were real, no doubt, but they did not make the characters in the book any more alive physically. They lived in my mind, certainly, but nowhere else. In this case, I bought the book, so was invested in it; I wanted to be consumed by the emotion of it. I wanted it to feel real, and it did. Just because not a word of it was true, it didn't mean that I couldn't feel like it was.

I'm not suggesting that emotions are only detractors from reality and truth. I feel that they certainly have their place. But as I have stated before, if one is to make very serious judgments, the reality of emotion should also be supported by the reality of fact and vice versa. For example, if one falls in love over the Internet, the love and desire are certainly real emotions. But if it is to become a healthy, companionate relationship, it must be supported by real interaction, chemistry, time, proximity, etc. To ignore discrepancies and rely only on the feeling could have serious consequences.

Can you imagine someone knocking at my door and telling me to ignore the facts about spiders, and instead to cling onto that terror every time I see one; if I ever start to doubt that spiders are dangerous, I need only let one crawl on my hand, and that fear I have will confirm that spiders truly are dangerous killers? Yet the Church would have everyone ignore the problematic history and doctrine of the early leaders and cling onto the emotion. In other words, the Church insists that emotion dictates the rest of reality. But if we are to get to the actual truth, shouldn't fact confirm feeling?

Regarding my decision about the Church, I have been accused of reasoning my way out of a testimony because I don't want to believe it is true (for whatever reason). But if I were able to reason my way out of the one truth in the universe, why am I unable to reason my way out of arachnophobia?

Why

It occurred to me recently that perhaps where I differ from some believers revolves around the question "Why?" In other words, how entitled are we, as human beings, to answers from the Almighty?

Helaman 12 states that man is lower than the dust of the earth. This is because the dust obeys all commands of God without question, whereas we humans tend to want to know the purpose before acting. And yet, it was God who supposedly granted us the ability to reason.

The message I hear from some LDS is that we don't need to know the answers to my concerns. Some seem to suggest that it is a sin to even ask such questions; "His ways are not our ways," etc. The answers are apparently so far beyond our capability of understanding that to even attempt to know is detrimental to our souls, because we show God our lack of faith by asking why.

I'd like to present the exact opposite position. I believe that our ability and desire to know why is an absolutely essential part of our salvation. In fact, it stands to reason that God would demand that we ask why. If our greatest enemy is Satan, and he has dedicated his existence to making us all miserable (2 Nephi 2:27), and he is able to entice us, we must ask for reasons before following anything. If we did not ask why, wouldn't we all be easily led astray by the devil? Joseph Smith warned his followers about fraudulent angels (e.g., Bushman, 2005, p. 438; see also D&C 129), and at one point (at least) was deceived by a revelation that had come from the devil (Roberts, Vol. 1, 1965), so it seems appropriate that one should question every "prompting," teaching, doctrine, and commandment to know if it truly were from God, even if it were supposedly from a prophet.

So when I am told that plural marriage is a requirement to enter the Celestial Kingdom (D&C 132: 4; Journal of Discourses, Vol. 3, p. 266), and it contradicts the scriptures (1 Timothy 3:2, 12; 1 Corinthians 7:2; Jacob 1:15, 2:24, 26-27, 3:5; D&C 49:16; Mosiah 11:2; Ether 10:5; Mark 10:11; Deuteronomy 17:17) and my conscience, it seems very important that I ask why.

God seems very willing to give answers about His other doctrines. We should forgive others because we are not without sin (John 8:7). We should not baptize little children because they are covered under the atonement (Moroni 8), and so on. So why are we not allowed to have answers about the very disturbing doctrine of plural wives? Maybe the fact that there simply are no answers is evidence that this doctrine came from a fraudulent angel, or a false prophet (Matthew 7:15), and those who look upon it with any allowance are evidence that the very elect are being deceived (Matthew 24:24).

And so, repeating what I have stated several times on this blog, we should not allow emotion to drive our actions more than reason. There must be balance. If something is true and righteous, it will have sound reasons behind it and feel intuitively correct.

References

Bushman, R. L. (2005). Joseph Smith: Rough stone rolling. New York: Alfred A. Knopf.

Journal of Discourses (1860). A. Lyman (Ed.), London: Latter-Day Saints’ Book Depot.

Roberts, B. H. (1965). Comprehensive history of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Provo, UT: Brigham Young University Press.

People & Perfection

In an earlier post, a reader saw my criticisms of Joseph Smith, Jr. and asked if that means that I expect a prophet of God to be perfect. Of course the answer is no, but it raises an even more interesting question about just how far from perfection a man of God is allowed to stray.

Symonds Ryder (1792-1870) was an early convert to the Church and apparently thought that a prophet of God should be absolutely infallible. After Joseph Smith had misspelled Mr. Ryder's name in a "revelation", he became convinced that Smith could not have written it through the power of God. He eventually left the Church.

Most reasonable people think that even if Smith were a prophet, such a minor mistake could be overlooked as mere human error. After all, Smith was not born a prophet, right? And even if he did more for the salvation of mankind than anyone other than Christ Himself (see D&C 135:3), that doesn't mean he was perfect, right?

There are several mistakes and behaviors of Smith and the early Church leaders that could be criticized. I don't think each of them is necessarily evidence of their fraudulence, but we must each draw our own boundaries for where human error goes too far, indicating that the individual is nothing more than human.

For example, John Taylor reported that while they were in Carthage Jail, Joseph Smith and the rest ordered and drank wine to lift their spirits. I can't really blame them for that. I probably would have done the same thing had I been imprisoned. While it contradicts the general expectation of an LDS prophet, I don't think that fact by itself should convince anyone that Smith was a fraud. Similarly, most members don't know that Smith also unloaded a six-shooter on the men who were coming to kill him (source). Again, while this doesn't sound like a "lamb going to the slaughter" (D&C 135:4), I would certainly have done the same thing. It was self-defense.

If I wanted to find any imperfection of Joseph Smith, Jr. I could also stress how his attempt at banking was a complete failure (source). In reality, though, I don't think that's too big of a mistake/imperfection to prove that he was a fraud. Notice that I don't mention any of these things in the outline of my concerns.

There are certain things Smith did, however, that go way beyond human imperfection in my mind. I feel that they not only were things a prophet of God would not do, but are clear evidence that Smith was nothing more than a mere man. I do not feel it necessary to address these here again, as they are clearly laid out in the outline of my concerns.

So each of us must carefully decide what limits we place on perfection. Where must it not waiver, and where is it given room to fluctuate? If it does waiver, how far can it go until we will take the hint?

Emotional Motivation

Earlier this year someone explained a testimony to me like this: "It's like being in love. No one needs to explain to you if you're in love: you just know it."

Certainly this is true regarding love. I'm not very old (ignoring how I feel sometimes), but I've had a few experiences with love in my life. I first fell in love in junior high. I felt things for an attractive young woman that I had never before experienced. I would have done anything to win her approval. But I was painfully shy. Long story short, I loved her from a distance until finally tracking her down in the later years of high school after I had gained some confidence and feelings of self-worth. We went on one date, and I just wasn't really interested in her much after that. I suppose I had built her up in my mind to be the perfect woman based on what I had seen and known of her. Although I sat next to her every single day in junior high, that date was the first time I had actually had a conversation with her. With just a little investigation, I quickly learned that she was not all I had made her up to be.

The thing is, I know I was in love with her before. I knew it at the time with so much conviction that I can't possibly deny it now either. I loved her. That was completely true all through junior high, and a good chunk of high school. But it was no longer true after that first date.

What is it that a feeling tells us? Did loving that girl tell me that we were meant to be together? Of course not. I sure wished it did at the time, but it didn't realistically tell me anything beyond that I loved her. That feeling of love did not mean she was the perfect young woman, that she would be a wonderful mother, that she would listen to me and respect me, that she cared more for others than herself, that she shared my same values and interests, and so on. All that feeling told me was that I felt very strongly for her.

Using this example in regards to the topic of this blog, what is it that an emotional conviction tells us about the truth of the Church? When feeling an answer to prayer, does this really tell us that the Church is true, or does it tell us that what we know so far sounds attractive? Does it really tell us that Joseph Smith saw God and Jesus Christ and dozens of other heavenly beings, or does it tell us that such a message gives us hope?

In other words, the feeling of love for that girl did not mean much on a realistic level. That wasn't enough to make us truly compatible. A feeling that Joseph Smith was a prophet does not mean that he literally held golden plates and translated them. Learning more about the girl caused me to feel something different about her. Maybe understanding more about Joseph Smith and the kind of man he was can cause someone to feel different about him and his claims.

Here's the real issue, though, I think; it was not fun to fall out of love with this young woman. It was an amazing feeling, and it motivated me very much. It was a wonderful feeling to have pumping through me. But it would not have been useful or healthy to still feel that even though we were truly incompatible and a marriage would not have worked. Similarly, why would one want to lose that spiritual high that comes with the belief of being among the elite chosen of God, who hold the power to act in His name, who have communication directly from Him? But that feeling of comfort and bliss does not confirm that, in reality, paying your tithing month after month is going to keep you from getting burned (D&C 64:23). It may be that Joseph Smith's doctrine and actions are heading in a different direction than you want or thought you were.

In brief, love alone does not mean two people are meant to be together. Feelings of peace about the First Vision alone do not mean that marrying other men's wives is okay.

Conviction

In July 1984, a young woman was raped inside of her home. I want to clearly emphasize how horrible this must have been for her, and how no one on Earth should ever have to suffer such a thing. It should never have happened in the first place.

Unfortunately it did. The events that transpired afterward changed the way many people look at truth and personal conviction. The victim identified a suspect and swore under oath that he was the man that had raped her. Although the man's family swore that his alibi was legitimate, the victim continued to insist that he was the guilty man. There was some evidence that could link him to the crime, but it was nothing more than circumstantial.

What convinced the jury that he was the offender was the victim's testimony. She was absolutely certain that he was the man who had raped her on that horrible night. Because of her certainty, another victim of a very similar crime on the same night became convinced that he was also the one who had raped her. The strength of the testimonies convicted him of this and another rape, and he ended up sentenced to life plus 54 years for these two crimes.

Nearly 11 years later, however, DNA evidence proved beyond a doubt that he was innocent of the crimes. He was exonerated, and quickly forgave his accuser. The real rapist was then identified - an inmate who had confessed to the crimes years earlier (details).

What do we learn from this series of tragic events? The angle I would like to take for the purposes of this blog is to stress that emotional conviction alone is never enough to accept something as truth. As certain as the victim was of the identity of her rapist, it cannot (or should not) nullify the evidence.

This is not to say that emotional conviction is irrelevant. If there had been a DNA match with the suspect, it would be expected that the victim would also recognize him and swear that he was the right man. On the other hand, if she swore that he was the right man even after the DNA showed no match, would a jury be justified in disregarding the facts because she was "just so sure?"

Regarding the Book of Mormon and Joseph Smith, so many insist that they know the legitimacy of the Church because of their emotional/spiritual conviction. They just know. They don't need anything else. They ignore or explain away the evidence that the Book of Mormon was authored by Joseph Smith (see my outline for references), the fact that DNA and linguistic evidence points to Asia, not Israel, as the origin of the Native Americans. They excuse somehow that Joseph Smith wrote a book on Egyptian grammar that has nothing to do with Egyptian grammar, and that his interpretations of the facsimiles on the papyri have not been supported by respected Egyptologists. They somehow justify the facts that he married teenagers, married other men's wives without consent, lied to his own wife about the nature of these marriages, and had zero justification for doing so. They insist that there are perfectly good reasons that The Book of Mormon contains countless inaccuracies, impossibilities, and contradictions.

So many individuals continue to ignore or attempt to excuse these facts for the sake of their emotional conviction. So many do mental acrobatics to make these facts somehow explainable to fit their emotional conviction. Again, I argue that if the emotional conviction is right, the evidence should support the conviction. If the evidence does not support the conviction, maybe we, like the unfortunate rape victim, would be wise to rethink the validity thereof.

Confirmation

LDS doctrine states that we existed before this life and that we were taught the Gospel and accepted it (source), and so the missionaries aren't teaching people new doctrine, but just reminding them of things they already know are true. For example, when we are taught that we chose to come to Earth at this time and that we accepted Jesus Christ's plan, it will ring a bell somewhere deep inside of us. We will have a confirmation in our feelings that that is correct.

I have felt similarly about some Church doctrines. For example, I feel wonderful about charity, family being the most central unit in God's plan, forgiveness, selflessness, praying for your enemies, the importance of humility, etc. I do believe that such things are godly.

But this raises a question in my mind. If plurality of wives was also an eternal principle that we knew before this life on Earth, why do I not say to myself, "Oh yeah! Lots of wives! That makes so much sense!"? Why instead does it cause so much dissonance regarding my knowledge and feelings about God? Why does it just feel wrong, no matter what I do to try and feel okay about it? Isn't confusion a sign that such a thing is not godly (D&C 132:8; D&C 9:8-9)?

LDS doctrine states that we will know the truth because the spirit will tell us in our hearts and in our minds (D&C 8:2). So doesn't it mean that polygamy is not good and true and pure if it makes no sense in my mind and I cannot bring myself to feel good about it? Shouldn't the truth be almost instinctual? Should faith overpower conscience, or is conscience a beginning ground for faith?

Peace and Truth

I've been given a lot of advice lately as to what I can do to go about feeling better about what Joseph Smith did (see my outline). People usually offer me some steps they took after learning of polygamy, etc. which helped to ease their minds. Usually the end result is that they decided they were incapable of understanding the principle and so would just stop thinking about it.

There is another key issue here I feel I must address: the difference between peace and the truth. If I were seeking peace about the purpose of my existence here on Earth, I could find dozens of answers that would provide it. Certainly, a Buddhist feels peace about his existence and the purpose of life. Certainly so does one who believes in reincarnation, nirvana, who worships Vishnu, or who practices paganism. Peace is one of the main things people seek in life: peace about their existence.

However, while there are several paths to and forms of peace, there can be only one truth in the end. And while that one truth will hopefully provide peace, simply feeling peace does not mean one has obtained the truth. Very often, the truth shakes up the entire world. Very often, the truth hurts a lot. And very often, the truth is very hard to swallow.

Peace without truth is artificial, and while it may make the journey through life easier at times, it is still not necessarily the truth. Thus, if one is a seeker of truth in all honesty and desires above all to obtain truth, he must be prepared to abandon his comfort.

My experience has been that some people desire peace, assuming that it is the truth, and others desire truth, no matter what the consequences. Socrates and Galileo, for example; had they sought peace and comfort for themselves, they would never have come any closer to the truth. Yet they had the courage to stand against all opposition for the sake of truth.