Baptism By Fire

This past Sunday, while in worship, Psalm 139 was read aloud and the woman preaching asked for people to share reflections. I am not very familiar with the Psalms, so their words do not come to mind readily. However, when I read through the 139th, I was deeply moved by the verses. They are beautiful words in their own right, but they hold particular significance for me because of an intense experience I had this summer past.

During my last shift of being on-call at the UCLA Ronald Reagan Medical Center, I received a page from a social worker. A patient was undergoing an operation to evacuate her fetus. And the patient and her family wanted the child to be baptized after the procedure was completed. I could have passed the task off to one of the Catholic priests who were present for Mass that day, but I decided that there was no need to do so. I was just as capable as they to perform this ritual and since I was the on-call chaplain, it was my job. It was an awkward service to arrange. None of the staff had ever had this done before. This was my first baptism ever, let alone in a hospital, so I certainly had no protocol suggestions. Finally we figured everything out, I got the child’s name from the mother in the recovery room and then entered the staff-only area to perform the baptism. The family would not be present. Although I made room for the staff to join me, they opted to not be present either. Understandable. A nurse placed the child on an instrument table in an operating room. She asked if I needed anything else and I requested some water for the baptism, which she quickly retrieved. Due to the type of abortion performed, there was no discernible human form. I never opened the translucent container. The nurse took her leave, and closed the door behind her.

I was very anxious up to this point. I felt that I could perform the ritual, but my anxiety was nearly tangible. I had to start by praying that the Holy Spirit fill me with peace and courage. I prayed this most earnestly for a time. I cannot describe to you how each moment seemed to stretch to infinity, yet melted away instantaneously. Indeed, even now I am tearing up as the stretches of time between now and then vanish. After feeling sufficiently emboldened, I finally truly beheld the child before me. My entire being became focused and I felt a terrible loneliness well-up inside me. It was not I who felt lonely; but inexplicably I felt the child of God before me was. I broke down and wept. After a time I collected myself and reached for the sterilized water that stood silently by, though more water seemed redundant at this point:

“Angel, I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”

At this moment, despite my rational eyes telling me that there is nothing human before me, I experienced the most profound humanity. It was a tragic beauty that the very core of my being recognized. In response to being so grievously touched, from the deepest parts of everything I am, manifested words that I cannot claim as my own because I did not think of them nor realize what I said until after the fact:

“You will never be forgotten, Angel.”

I was transported to the most authentic parts of myself, while also transcending every aspect of myself. I felt that I was absolutely nothing and yet positively everything. Time telescoped and took me back years to when I was on the brink of self-destruction because of how far into the utter abyss that is Doubt I had fallen. At that time, I was being swallowed up by the Infinite and felt there was no way out. As I hurtled deeper into that darkness and was dashed upon the conclusion that there was nothing left, I felt a voice assure me:

“David, you are not alone.”

And my life was saved. I was brought back from that precipice only by an ontological, experiential truth that I cannot deny, but also cannot adequately explain. And as I stood before Angel, that irrefutable Presence that kept me alive years ago was palpably present once more. I addressed that Presence, that Being, when I commended Angel’s spirit unto God for safekeeping. And though my tears before were due to the tragedy of our fallen existence as frail creatures, the tears I shed now were due to the beauty of our redeemed existence as beloved children. I did not feel any judgment. I did not feel any redemption of the tragedy to which I was bearing witness. There is no redemption or silver lining to be found. The loss of human life is terribly absurd. It is the work of the living to remember and honor that loss. And Angel, I assure you I will never forget.

For it was you who formed my inward parts;

you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.

Wonderful are your works; that I know very well.

My frame was not hidden from you,

when I was being made in secret,

intricately woven in the depths of the earth.

Your eyes beheld my unformed substance.

In your book were written

all the days that were formed for me,

when none of them as yet existed.

How weighty to me are your thoughts, O God!

How vast is the sum of them!

I try to count them—they are more than the sand;

I come to the end—I am still with you.

Psalm 139: 13-28

Calling

There is a famous quote by a man by the name of Frederick Buechner regarding the concept of “call” in life:

“The place God calls you to is where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.”

This quote came to mind while I was in Boston and I wish to share that story and then speak about how it made me alter this quote thereby helping me make more sense of it.  Because when you read it, it makes sense.  You nod your head and think “Wow, deep.”  But how do you actually follow God’s call?  What does this actually look like?

I had the immense privilege of going to Boston to watch my best friend, Andrew, perform is senior recital as he obtains his degree at Berklee.  It was a joy to hang out with him for days on his turf, in his home, with his friends, amidst his dynamics.  And the city of Boston is just gorgeous.  Really, the East Coast folks make cities well.  But I digress.  It was during Andrew’s senior recital that I had this revelation.

You see, Andrew was playing a jazz piece (he’s a drummer) with his fellow performers when he then glanced at a clock in the back of the room while still playing.  I could barely register on his face some calculations being done, but he never stopped playing or missed a note the entire time.  Really, all in all, a very minor event.  Pretty much innocuous and forgettable.  But after that piece finished, he then cut out a song or two from his set due to time constraints.  This would mean that mid-song, Andrew was able to continue playing while mentally calculating the rest of his set and determining that they were likely to run over.  Then he picked which songs to cut.  Then he finished playing.

During the next song, I retreated into my own mind a bit.  I have seen Andrew play quite often in other settings, so I guiltily had trouble focusing on his playing instead of looking at the other people playing since they were novel or his playing became background music as I processed some things.

At this point, my mind went to basketball.

It went back to when I played basketball in high school.  I was good at basketball, but I would not categorize myself as great.  And I think I went back there because seeing Andrew mid-song gauge the clock and determine what he would play reminded me of basketball players taking stock of the game- or shot-clock and determining which play they would do.  Which then led me to think about that being an aspect of why I am not a great basketball player: I did not naturally utilize the time within the game’s structure.  Watching NCAA basketball, you can really see how the time influences decisions immensely, but it is done rather fluidly (timeouts notwithstanding).  Time is merely an aspect of the game which one must be aware of and even control.  It is a rule of the system which must be(come) so natural that one is unconsciously informed by it and focuses on other parts of the system or, as Andrew demonstrated, should time be the element focused on, the rest of the system is so natural it is unconsciously informed by it.

This made me step back a moment and come at Buechner’s definition differently.  Instead of a poetic and poignant definition, I mentally tweaked it and came up with perhaps a bit more mundane version:

“The place God calls you to is where you get the most joy working a system and where that system is most oppressive”

This idea struck me because I felt it captured an aspect about “calling” that I have found to be true, but not articulated often.  And that is that we will always find ourselves in a system, or systematizing something.  Whether that’s being a pastor in a church, a mother of a family, project manager of a construction company, drummer in a band, or point guard on a basketball team.  And existing within those systems is something we have to do and must recognize.  But merely surviving in a system is vastly different than thriving in one.  Merely keeping a basic rhythm for a band is necessary, but the truly great percussionists work the system of Music to transport the music to an otherwise inaccessible vista.  The Hall of Fame athletes are able to manipulate the systems of their respective Sport in order to achieve records, perform feats, and defeat opponents with aplomb and joy.  A pastor is able to navigate systems of the Divine and Human in order to efficaciously be present with people in their spiritual lives and lead them on in their spiritual journeys.  The element of not only being comfortable in a system you work in, but being creative within it is critical.  What that looks like and how that pans out will depend on you and your context.

Now, I must admit that in my mind, “working a system” precludes you leaving it how you found it.  There is an element here where by your very action upon the system, the system is improved, made better, or, in terms consistent with what is written here, the system is made less oppressive.  How this is done and what this would look like is not possible to prescribe really because it will be immensely contextual to you, the place, the time, etc.  But should one’s calling be true, the system will not remain the same and will instead be improved by your presence and work.  This is also difficult to quantify and may not be apparent for some time.  Trusting in God and in the process God sets you on will be necessary for systemic change is not easy, nor overnight.  If it is ever easy or done overnight, something is wrong.  Or the change was merely the tip of the iceberg and far more work is ahead.

Now, the aspect of the system being oppressive is more difficult to describe (just as difficult as Buechner’s “deepest hunger” really).  However, because of the shift in metaphor, I found some clarity which I hope is helpful for others.  With Buechner’s “deepest hunger” concept, I found it difficult to place something like American football in the same category as sex trade liberation.  If one feels called equally to both, it is difficult for me to consider the world having a deeper hunger for football than working to free people from sex trafficking.  However, that would be me creating an unfruitful qualitative differentiation and comparison.  Instead, it would be more beneficial to focus efforts on instilling into our future athletes, politicians, and celebrities (as high-status examples) that while they may receive the greatest joy from working those respective systems, they must never forget the concomitant need to work against how that very system is most oppressive.  This would mean cultural norms, economic inequalities, media attention, etc.  In contradistinction, we would have homeless assisters, sex trade liberators, and pastors (high-status people of a different kind) who need to be well aware that while that line of work may be within systems of greatest oppression, are they deriving joy from working said systems?

When these two elements, joy at working a system and oppression within said system, are in mutually-reinforcing harmony, rest assured you are right where God calls you to be.

Science versus (as) Religion

I’m going to put a couple of links below.  The first one is a link to a TED talk on how science can, contrary to conventional wisdom, help provide a moral compass.  The second is a podcast by This American Life on how the American Psychiatric Association came to change its definition of homosexuality (indeed, eventually remove it from the DSM).  I offer them side-by-side as an intriguing contrast of efforts to objectify morality.

http://www.ted.com/talks/sam_harris_science_can_show_what_s_right.html

(25 minutes long)

http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/204/81-Words

(an hour long)

The TED talk by Sam Harris struck me as an interesting one because he never addressed any of the innumerable times throughout history where science has been used to uphold an unjust status quo.  He argues that science can embolden us to stand firm in our beliefs of right and wrong that are not dogmatically dictated by a religious system.  He does not, at least in this talk (I have not read any of his books) (yet), speak of science’s inevitable collusion with human prejudice to marginalize, oppress, and abuse.  I do not say this to absolutely demonize the scientific enterprise because, as Mr. Harris says, it has done much to open our eyes to how things “really are” in the empirical world that has so dominated our Western worldview.

But that’s just it, isn’t it?  Empiricism is just that: a worldview.  It is a perspective through which we view the world’s workings that gives us an element of control (illusion?).  And while I claim no originality in this insight, we can simply categorize science as a religion with the way Mr. Harris just articulated its role and abilities.  Thus, we have devotees of Science, apologists of Science, opponents of Science, prophets, priests, and an entire system of belief.  In fact, Science is such a diverse religion that it is full of denominations: biology, neurology, physics, chemistry, etc.  They all preach similar messages, but the way in which they go about their work is vastly different.  Sometimes it is beneficial and welcome (polio vaccine), but other times it is atrocious and abhorrent (Dr. Mengele).  Its dogmas claim to be timeless and facts of life.  Indeed, their Laws are nearly as absolute as the Torah.  And yet, gestalt switches have happened in Science, which gives rise to questions of authority when it comes to making morality claims.  Oh, you can build a weapon that destroys entire cities?  Wonderful.  That fits perfectly with our ideology.  And in terms of cold, hard numbers, it would be less lives lost dropping two bombs on two cities in Japan than drawing out a war.  Science has spoken.  So let it be written; so let it be done.

I am not advocating that Mr. Harris is flat-out wrong.  To Science’s credit, as evidenced by the podcast linked above, Science can come to realize its wrongs and change.  This is admirable and a reason why it has achieved success.  It is based on data, which inherently change nearly every day.  This requires a fluidity to its structure where more conventionally understood religions are based upon timeless axioms that do not change on a dime.  But change they do, as much as conservative proponents may wish do deny it.  When the entire world shifts, a religion must change as well for its purpose is to mediate between the world and the world as it “really is.”  Science does this very well, which is why it has skyrocketed in global importance.  However, it is not hegemonic and other global religions are loth to relinquish their claims to the true vision of the world’s workings.  But, just how Americans saw on 9/11, when huge institutions make claims to have the True Path, conflict will occur.  Mr. Harris, Richard Dawkins, and company have been attempting to assert their religion’s primacy and efficacy over and against the others.  While they may have experienced success against their foes, they have merely propped up their own religion to take their place.  Someday, if and when Science has become the supreme faith tradition, they will continue to self-perpetuate and attempt to measure their success empirically and objectively, but then the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle will foil them.  And perhaps humble them.  Perhaps.

I do not wish to write as if I’m defending the religions Mr. Harris is criticizing.  His criticisms, to a degree, are warranted and welcome.  The major monotheistic religions are immensely problematic for each other and, therefore, for the world because they institutionally stake claims that existentially threaten one another and, therefore, the world.  This is naively speaking of them monolithically, but the same can be said for the religion of Science.  An interesting interplay between the TED talk and the podcast above is that the Bible contains various Scriptures (both the Hebrew and Christian versions) that condemn homosexuality.  Without getting into an in-depth discussion here, these Scriptures came out of and reinforced historically normative sexual behavior.  For thousands of years, there were permutations of this norm, but nothing that fundamentally challenged it in earnest until the last century.  Thus, why would Science, indeed how could Science, see beyond this norm until the last few decades?  How could Science, in all of its empirical wisdom, see beyond what was a purely normative aspect of life?  In short, Science was and is just as blind of a religion.  Again, as stated above, it is a more fluid institution that welcomes opportunities for better explanations of data, but it is still one limited by human fallibility and subjectivity as are religions that base their claims on transcendence, the divine, or something equally abstract as Empiricism.

The podcast above begins and ends with stories from within a family tradition.  The story it narrates is full of how people interacted as the APA came to recognize its own prejudice and change its definition.  But the impetus for the change?  It was not data.  The data was collected later.  And it was not intellectual debate.  There was no question to debate.  It was relationships.  It was people coming to know one another as more than their mere categories.  The Scientist came to know the Homosexual.  The Psychiatrist saw beyond the Patient.  The human began to grok the human.  This led to revisions of previous theories.  This led to new experiments.  This led to discovery of new data.  This relationality was the foundation and catalyst for Science.  And that is where, objectively and subjectively, we must come together, the Scientist and his/her co-Religionist, to work on the immense problems before us: from human rights to marry to human rights to clean drinking water.  We must build relationships that transcend categorical incompatibility.  We must embrace the uncertainties of our lives without sacrificing principles and find confidence in one another, emboldened by the commonality of each of our respective religions: relationship.

Liminality

This is a concept I have been wrestling with for some time now.  My first wrestlings with it were in the framework of marriage, but now it is for the issue of ordination.  Basically, my question comes down to What is Ordination?  You can pretty much substitute any rite of passage into the question (What is Marriage?  What is Graduation?  What is Initiation?) and the question remains.

Liminality refers to the idea of a threshold.  I’ll use the rite of graduation as an example.  Before you go through the graduation ceremony, you are a non-graduate.  However, at some point (debatable when it is, which is part of the problem), you officially transition from the state of non-graduate to graduate.  The moment of transition is called the liminal moment.  Liminality has fascinated me ever since being somewhat cursorily introduced to it in undergrad particularly because of its critical place in religion.  Every religion has its various rituals to move someone from one condition to another.  Conversion is probably one of the biggest and most salient examples.  At one point you are not of a faith tradition and then, usually after undergoing a proscribed ritual, you are a part of that faith tradition.

I find this to be an incredibly important concept.  We have liminal moments at so many points in our lives, but they often pass unmarked (or marked in curious ways).  When we turn 18, we can now vote, smoke, and join the armed forces.  When we turn 21, we can drink, which people often (un)ceremoniously welcome.  When we hit puberty, we enter into manhood/womanhood (many cultures understood/understand puberty as the coming-of-age process into adulthood and had/have elaborate rituals to commemorate it).  And then there are innumerable social rites that have liminal moments: initiation into a fraternity or sorority, seeking and obtaining a job, earning a degree, etc.  There are also the more momentous liminal moments of our lives such as birth (abortion debates, perhaps without realizing it, often revolve around the question of liminality), marriage, and death.

For me, I really personalized this issue when I began to wonder aloud if a relationship is qualitatively different before a marriage ceremony than after.  As in, the relationship of the fiancees the morning before before the wedding is fundamentally different from the relationship of the wedded couple the morning after.  Or, to make it all the more momentous and pointed, are the bride and groom qualitatively different from one moment to the next even though they haven’t moved from their places at the altar (unless you put a lot of stock in the consummation of the marriage, then we’d have to wait until the wedding night- hence the big deal about virginity like the presentation of bloody sheets, etc.).  Is there a conferment of a different relational quality at a particular point during the ceremony?

At that point in my life, which was my 2nd year in college, I felt there was not.  I thought the ceremony was a social celebration and social contract of a relationship already committed to such a degree.  The relationship the morning before and the morning after is not qualitatively different because (I’ll speak from my paradigm since this was a personal questing) the couple have already sought God’s guidance and, through discernment, have determined that marriage is the course their relationship is to take.  Therefore, the ceremony is nothing more than a social convention.  In fact, I thought it rather silly to think that a couple would be relationally different from one day to the next, as if the couple had not been as in love, or as committed, or whatever the day prior.

I have since, probably through more serious study and just life experiences, come to a different understanding of liminality.  I find myself feeling there is more to our liminal experiences than mere socio-functionality.  This is me speaking, however, from within religious contexts now.  I don’t really feel inspired to talk about whether a college graduate is qualitatively different due to society’s collective response changing towards that person.  Granted, some will say that’s exactly what is happening regarding religious rituals as well.  That each and every ritual is socio-functional.

But I cannot help but disagree.  In fact, it troubles me that liminality seems to be an under-appreciated aspect of my faith tradition.  I don’t hear it stressed very often in the various rituals we have people undergo.  It genuinely troubles me that there seems to be no qualitative difference between those who are within the Church and those who are without.  But I get ahead of myself.

Qualitative difference.  This is a loaded phrase I keep throwing around.  Let’s take the liminal moment of Conversion to talk about this phrase.  If a conservative monotheist is asked whether someone undergoes a qualitative change during conversion, they would answer unequivocally “Yes” because the convert is now saved.  Their soul went from a state of peril to a state of salvation.  And this is the most important liminal moment a person can undergo!  Because if they have not been made right with God, then their soul will not transition from damned to saved.  They will not experience that liminality and therefore will not experience life eternal.  This is an example of qualitative difference.  The eternal condition of a person changes when they convert (according to this perspective).

The simultaneously fascinating yet frustrating thing about liminal moments, and religious conversion illustrates it perfectly, is that they’re usually invisible.  A relationship that undergoes marriage might have indicators attached to it: you may now kiss your partner, Facebook Relationship Update, rings on the fingers, etc.  But the immaterially tangible thing we call a relationship is invisible.  The soul of a person (whatever that is…. I don’t know really) goes from a state of damned to saved.  We don’t see that.  We can’t objectively test that (sorry Science).  And that’s frustrating.  In fact, it often leads people to just throwing metaphysical liminality out.  What’s the point in worrying about it?

And that is precisely what brings me to this question again and again.  We pass through liminal moments and then what?  For example, when someone tells me they are saved because of their faith in Jesus Christ, but act exactly like the next person who does not profess any particular faith, I just wonder: so what?  The quarreling, the hardness of heart, the lack of grace, the narrowness of mind, the limitation of scope, the tribalism of acceptability.  Again, I cannot lay my finger on criteria, but I find myself unable to escape expecting visible fruits of one’s conversion.  And that can be of innumerable sorts: the young woman who turns vegetarian, the older man who commits to losing 60 lbs., the teenager who won’t be like her abusive mother, etc.  All of these people, I would hope, would bear fruits of their respective conversions.  When the mind and spirit commit to something, I feel that the fruits borne should speak to the efficacy of that conversion.  Therefore, there is visibility to invisible liminality.

But it’s exactly that invisible quality I’m trying wrestle with.  It’s that metaphysical quality that intrigues me.  It’s that inexplicable sense of communion with something greater than one’s self to the point of recognizing a new self has been created.  Just before death, a man has a revelation and repents of all his wrong-doing and professes belief in God.  The 18-year-old is now a new entity in society: instead of the usual title of “Minor” the teen is now legally an “Adult” and has many of the responsibilities of the status conferred upon/opened to them at that moment.

Perhaps therein is a key point.  Responsibility.  Perhaps I am frustrated at the lack of responsibility people seem to acknowledge is bestowed upon them when these liminal moments are passed through.  It should be a huge deal to render one’s life unto Christ.  It’s a life of service.  A life contrary to what usual human nature aims for.  Instead of orientation towards the Self, we must orient ourselves to God and to the Other.  This is a massive responsibility that, I feel, should change how life is lived.  Maybe I’m too biased by my own conversion experience years ago that wracked my life into despair and darkness for a time, which made the experience of Light too profound to not have it affect my life.

And the final issue with this I’ll raise is the issue of gatekeepers.  Who possesses the authority and power to preside, oversee, administer the liminal rite?  Who has the ability to determine who can pass through and who cannot?  And should these powers and authorities become too Self-oriented, at what point can you ignore the conventional and/or traditional mediums?

Or, for my current quandary:

Is God involved in ordination in such a way that there is a qualitative, metaphysical difference between me now and me after being ordained?

Is there a conferring of spiritual authority upon an ordained minister that s/he carries with him/her that would not be present otherwise?

Is the Church, a Church, necessary for that?  If not, how can such a liminal moment occur otherwise?  If so, how is that ritual of liminality performed so as to convey adequate respect and reverence for such a grave responsibility?

And how much weight should societal recognition play?  In other words, how important is the title of “Reverend”?

Reveal to Repeal: Holding Mormons Accountable

This blog was inspired by the following article:

Mormonism’s Black Issues | Religion & Theology | ReligionDispatches

The issue at stake is that up until 1978, black people (of African descent, as every Mormon publication is quick to point out; before 1978 non-African blacks could, theologically, join the priesthood) could not be a part of the Priesthood of the LDS Church.  The reason this issue sticks with me is because despite Mormons only making up 2% of California, they played a huge role in the Prop 8 battle.  This means that the Mormons staking so much on this issue puts them, their doctrines, their history, and their Church squarely in the realm of scrutiny.  Before Prop 8 went to vote, I tried to talk with a number of my Mormon friends, but none of them would discuss the issue at length with me.  Invariably, the conversation would halt when I brought up the historical parallel of the LDS Church’s historical stance on blacks or polygamy.  I would not get any messages back.  The conversations would not progress any further.

Finally, 2 days ago a friend of mine actually sent back a message after I beseeched her to connect me with someone in the LDS Church who could engage me in conversation.  And she honestly and sincerely admitted that she had no idea why the Church had the stance it did (regarding blacks).  God issued a command and the Church had to follow it.  Simple as that.  The paradigm she is working from, indeed the paradigm many if not most Mormons appear to work from (judging from the research I did in putting this blog together), is greatly at odds with my own.  It makes it difficult to converse at times because talking past one another can easily happen.

I write this with the intention of clarifying things for both Mormons and us non-Mormons.  As I am a strong advocate for gay rights (both within and without Christianity), including the right to marry, I must stand at odds with my Mormon brothers and sisters.  I must stand against them, but that does not mean I cannot sit at table with them.  It does not mean we cannot walk together in conversation and mutually understand one another better.  It is in that vein that I write.  Hard questions will be asked; harsh criticisms leveled, but I sincerely hope someone will take up the call to clarify misunderstandings I have, augment the histories I excerpt, and shore up my weak spots.
The overarching issue at stake here is this: I view the Church changing its stance on issues as the people who make up the Church coming to realize they had something wrong whereas the Mormon understanding is that God reveals truth “line by line, precept by precept.”  Therefore, with the catalyzing article above as a paradigmatic example, I would view the LDS Church’s stance on Priesthood-privilege changing as evidence of human fallibility coming to recognize its error, not divine decree.  But the Church instead recognizes it as a new revelation from God.  The Church is perfect.  There was no error of judgment.  The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints was not being institutionally racist, but instead individual Mormons grasped for justification of something beyond their understanding and therefore, consequentially, the Church as a whole became labelled racist.  This is the stance of the Church (Reveal to Repeal, as I call it), but it is a very roseate shade.

First, let’s look at some current discussions on the issue of race in Mormonism from within Mormonism.  Below are excerpts from a talk given by Marvin Perkins, Director of African American Relations for the Southern California Public Affairs Council of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  Marvin Perkins is a black Mormon talking on the issue of blacks and Mormonism.  To be quite honest, it is a very troubling read.  At one point (well, to be fair, at many points), Perkins quotes Scripture  from the Book of Mormon to set the stage for his argument.  When Perkins finally speaks directly to the Curse of Ham/Cain, he quotes the following two Scriptures (among others):

2 Nephi 5:21

21 And he had caused the cursing to come upon them, yea, even a sore cursing, because of their iniquity. For behold, they had hardened their hearts against him, that they had become like unto a flint; wherefore, as they were white, and exceedingly fair and delightsome, that they might not be enticing unto my people the Lord God did cause a skin of blackness to come upon them. (not my emphasis)

3 Nephi 2:15-16.

15 And their curse was taken from them, and their skin became white like unto the Nephites; 16 And their young men and their daughters became exceedingly fair, and they were numbered among the Nephites, and were called Nephites. And thus ended the thirteenth year. (not my emphasis)

As is not difficult to see, it seems that the Mormon Scriptures make it pretty clear why blacks (African or otherwise) would have a hard time with the LDS Church.  Perkins attempts a very, very convoluted explanation of why we cannot read this as literally speaking to skin color.  It involves looking at many footnotes of what words should be read in what context with what other Scripture.  To be honest, although I feel I gave all the footnotes and other Scripture a fair reading, Perkins is reaching.  The word for “skin” is apparently supposed to be understood as referring to “scales” of the eyes (cf. Acts 9:18 or 2 Nephi 30: 6).  However, even if one were to accept Perkins’ convoluted exegesis, he actually says the following in reference to the 3 Nephi 2: 15-16 passage:

“There are Blacks here today who are members of the Church. Why have we not turned White? But there are Blacks who have joined the Church, married White spouse, and their children became lighter than their Black parents. Then those kids grew up to marry those that believe as they do, which most are White, so they married White, and their kids became even lighter, and so on. Makes you think a bit, doesn’t it?”

When I read this, I could not help but yell out in shock.  Perkins attempts to explain that the Scriptures do not refer to skin color.  He (and many other articles) try to exegetically explain why literal black skin is not what is being talked about, but then he says this.  He says that black skin is being eliminated (dare I say, overcome) because of blacks marrying into the overwhelmingly white religion that is Mormonism.  And that this, in light of 3 Nephi 2: 15-16, is a good thing.  This is, in fact, a practical way to see the curse of Ham/Cain being lifted.

This is, in fact, racist.  Disturbingly so.  It is even more heartbreaking that it may be branded as legitimately not-racist because a black Mormon said it.  Even more so because I’m a white Protestant criticizing it.  Forgive me, but eugenics, innocuous or blatant, is one of the oldest and most despicable practices in part because of how ethnocentric it has been throughout history.  The whole idea is to breed a better humanity.  A humanity without Them or the Other denigrating it.

It must be said, however, that the LDS Church did indeed allow black men (of African descent!) to join the priesthood in 1978.  Now, you’ll find publications touting excerpts from 19th century church documents that talk about how the groundwork had clearly been laid for eventual inclusion of (African) blacks:

“While leaders had taught that blacks ‘were not yet to receive the priesthood’ (Letter of the First Presidency, as published in the Improvement Era, February 1970), it was known that one day the full blessings of the Gospel related to the Priesthood would be available to them. The temporary exclusion ended unexpectedly – and happily – in 1978, sooner than many had imagined.” (not my emphasis)

However, different paradigms withstanding, I look at these historical parallels and just wonder:

“The family is ordained of God. Marriage between man and woman is essential to His eternal plan. At certain times and for His specific purposes, God, through His prophets, has directed the practice of plural marriage (sometimes called polygamy), which means one man having more than one living wife at the same time. In obedience to direction from God, Latter-day Saints followed this practice for about 50 years during the 1800s but officially ceased the practice of such marriages after the Manifesto was issued by President Woodruff in 1890. Since that time, plural marriage has not been approved by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and any member adopting this practice is subject to losing his or her membership in the Church.

In 1889 in the face of increasing hardships and the threat of government confiscation of Church property, including temples, Wilford Woodruff, President of the Church at the time, prayed for guidance. He was inspired to issue a document that officially ended the sanction of plural marriage by the Church. The document, called the Manifesto, was accepted by Church members in a general conference held in October 1890 and is published in the Doctrine and Covenants as Official Declaration 1 (see also “Excerpts from Three Addresses by President Wilford Woodruff Regarding the Manifesto” following Official Declaration 1).”

Note that the official LDS website admits that “in the face of increasing hardships and the threat of government confiscation of Church property, including temples” the President “was inspired to… officially end the sanction of plural marriage.”  Further, note that marriage between a man and a woman is “essential to [God’s] eternal plan.”  There is no “for now” or “as yet” or any qualifier.

Relatedly:

“Loving v. Virginia, 388 U.S. 1 (1967), was a landmark civil rights case in which the United States Supreme Court, by a 9-0 vote, declared Virginia’s anti-miscegenation statute, the “Racial Integrity Act of 1924″, unconstitutional, thereby overturning Pace v. Alabama (1883) and ending all race-based legal restrictions on marriage in the United States.”

This Supreme Court decision took place, as you may note, immediately on the heels of the Civil Rights Act.  After these nation-changing events, you have this occur:

“In June 1978, President Spencer W. Kimball received a revelation extending priesthood ordination to all worthy males of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Official Declaration 2). Before that time only worthy male members who were not of black African descent were ordained to the priesthood.”

Yet again, the LDS Church changes its policies right after major shifts occur in the political landscape because of a new revelation.  To my more cynical eye, I see the political winds changing with regard to race-relations and therefore so does God.  To my Mormon brothers and sisters, however, it will be more along the lines of “Before 1978, with the way the world was, humanity was not mature enough to handle black leaders.  Therefore, God, in His good and loving wisdom, delayed this until we were ready.”  However, I do not see and have not heard any talk of women being considered equal or GLBT persons.  Even if it is eventually.

Instead we have these official stances of the LDS Church with regard to gays and lesbians:

“People inquire about our position on those who consider themselves so-called gays and lesbians. My response is that we love them as sons and daughters of God. They may have certain inclinations which are powerful and which may be difficult to control. Most people have inclinations of one kind or another at various times. If they do not act upon these inclinations, then they can go forward as do all other members of the Church. If they violate the law of chastity and the moral standards of the Church, then they are subject to the discipline of the Church, just as others are” (Gordon B. Hinckley, Ensign, Nov. 1998, 71).

“We want to help these people, to strengthen them, to assist them with their problems and to help them with their difficulties. But we cannot stand idle if they indulge in immoral activity, if they try to uphold and defend and live in a so-called same-sex marriage situation. To permit such would be to make light of the very serious and sacred foundation of God-sanctioned marriage and its very purpose, the rearing of families” (Gordon B. Hinckley, Ensign, Nov. 1998, 71).

Or you have this official policy regarding women:

“The priesthood—the authority of God to perform ordinances and act in His name—is conferred only on worthy male members of the Church. Men who hold the priesthood have no advantage over women in qualifying for salvation or eternal life through the Atonement of Jesus Christ. “

In both cases, there is a distinct lack of any forward looking.  There is no “yet” involved.  There is no built-in concept that these things might change.  For a Church that believes in continued revelation, there is a lot of hard and fast rules.  And there is also a lot of political action to prevent gay marriage despite the fact it was legal in CA when Prop 8 was voted on.  Because of these historical trends, I cannot help but look at all of this “yet” talk with regard to African blacks being allowed into the priesthood as retrojection.  Looking back, of course we can see all of these bread crumbs leading to eventual inclusion.  But, as current political issues show, those bread crumbs either do not exist or are so miniscule that there is no trace of them in current discourse.  In 20 years, when gay marriage is legal, will there be another revelation?  Will there be innumerable publications where Mormon leaders clearly left the door ajar for future inclusion of gays and lesbians?  It certainly doesn’t look like it now.  There is, for some reason, a certitude about this particular never-changing rule of God which makes absolutely no sense to me when understood in light of Mormonism’s history of changing policies.

My problem is this: the LDS Church does not admit that is has been wrong.  Flat-out, no-qualifying wrong.  It was not wrong on polygamy.  It was not wrong on race.  It is not wrong on gay marriage.  These were commandments from God, both in their institution and their repeal.  They had to be followed.  There is a curious dance between claiming to merely follow God’s commandments, but yet also speaking of human foibles.  I agree wholeheartedly that it would be difficult to see white supremacy as wrong when everything around you says its ok.  What’s normative in a culture is difficult to work against or even to recognize as wrong.  But, when time passes and history shows us that something is wrong.  Horribly wrong.  Inhumanely wrong.  It is even more inhuman to say that you were right to uphold the status quo.  That not knowing any better, when God’s decrees are involved, exonerates you of sin.  As if sincere ignorance absolves the Church’s guilt regarding race then and regarding sexuality now.

And so it is with gay rights.  Mormons played a key role in the Prop 8 battle.  I have no qualms with them exercising their right to vote.  I have no problems with them standing up for their individual beliefs.  I do have qualms with the beliefs themselves.  I do have problems with the institutionalization and apotheosis of racism, sexism, and homophobia.  What I do have a problem with is when my God and my Savior are used as tools of oppression up until such a time that culture changes enough that the Mormon Church can then reveal God differently.  History seems to show us that is what has happened time and time again.  This is not a uniquely Mormon trait.  Conservative strands of every major religion are bastions of traditional gender roles and sexuality norms.  This does not excuse any of them.  This demands explanation.

Can the LDS Church step outside itself to see its perpetuation of racism (even to the point of fostering internalized racism?), upholding of sexism, and revoking of Others’ rights as contrary to the Gospel?

We are still experiencing a world where interracial couples are being denied their right to marry, we are still struggling in a nation with glass ceilings for women outside and inside the Church, and we are in the midst of a inter- and intrastate war over gay rights.  The LDS Church has changed its stance on one of those issues.

Can the LDS Church change on others?

Can the LDS Church admit it was and is wrong?

(Author’s Note: There is an entire world of websites and literature that analyzes Book of Mormon Scriptural changes, Mormon-funded archaeology, and personal testimonies that paint the LDS Church in a far more sinister light.  I am not writing to demonize the LDS Church or its Scripture .  I am writing because the LDS Church stripped my friends and family of their rights in California.  I am writing because the LDS Church barred my brothers and sisters from entering the priesthood.  I am writing because the LDS Church has a lot to answer for, but won’t even seriously entertain the questions.  I am writing to the Mormons out there who do not have answers for these criticisms because we are peers and we have a mutual duty to keep one another honest.  Until Mormons can give a decent account of their erroneous past, they must be held all the more accountable in every manifestation of error in the present.)

Perfection

The concept of perfection was recently challenged for me. Perfection, in the usual sense of the term, involves flawlessness, no mistakes, lack of problems, absence of imperfections. Thus, if you have a perfect replica, there is no way it can be distinguished from the original object. If you have a perfect circle, then every point on that circle is equidistant from its center.

 

The cliché “Practice makes perfect” comes to mind. I remember raising issue with this phrase to my mother once. It seemed impossible to me that someone could ever achieve perfection through practice. My mother made an insightful point, “Perfect practice makes perfect.” Even during our best practices, we are imperfectly practicing that art or craft or sport. Thus, we can never be perfect through practice because we are merely practicing imperfections.

 

Theologically, God is understood to be perfect. The divine has no flaws, problems, or imperfections. How does one reconcile that notion with the existence of Jesus Christ? A wholly human and wholly divine being, which implies perfection and imperfection simultaneously existing. It seems contradictory, implausible, impossible, nigh even incredible. Furthermore, this divine, perfect being not only existed as a human, but he was born, lived and then died as one as well. It seems that perfection has its limits. Or, in other words, that God has limits.

 

However, God is in fact limitless. God is indeed perfect, as was Jesus. Jesus managed to combine the perfection of the divine with the imperfection of the humane in the action that elevates humanity as close to perfection as humanly possible: Jesus embraced his humanity. The most historically defining characteristic of humanity is our mortality. In the Greek epics, the only characteristic that defines gods from men is the gods’ immortality. Other than a lack of death, the gods are just as humans. In the case of Jesus, he managed to achieve a theretofore unknown possibility: the co-existence of divine and human perfection. The divine perfection is an inherent characteristic of God, and therefore Jesus. However, the human perfection comes from the embrace of human imperfection. By utilizing the very “flaw” humans experience, that of death, the victory Jesus achieved provided the in-credible result of overcoming that “flaw” for the hope of all who surrender themselves to their simultaneous weakness and strength: imperfection. It is through imperfection that we are able to grow, adapt, change, die, birth, diversify, and unify. Imperfections are the source of not only pain and suffering but of joy and celebration as well.

 

The challenge perfection underwent recently for me was a claim that someone cannot be perfect if they make a mistake. If they are, in a word, imperfect then perfection is impossible. I disagree. Just as Jesus achieved an amazing degree of perfection, so too can we strive for perfection through recognizing and embracing our humanity. It is when we seek to be superhuman, to be divine ourselves that our imperfections are able to create such horrors as the Holocaust, Apartheid, the Crusades, poverty, hunger, injustice. Instead of viewing one’s self as deficient or imperfect when beset by failure, it is through communal support, learning and reconciliation that all can take another step towards the perfection understood as unobtainable.

 

I do not agree that a mistake precludes perfection. I feel that ongoing ignorance coupled with a lack of compassion is where perpetual imperfection lies. That combination implies an inability to learn from and with others. Jesus did not achieve perfection on his own. It took all of humanity to elevate him upon that cross. As long as people maintain self-righteousness, malice, selfishness and pride then we hold Jesus upon that tree. However, if we support one another through the very sins that put him up there, we can elevate ourselves to the same heights and work together to join him in that place of simultaneous weakness and strength.

God is Dog

What should be sweet words of hope

Turn to ash in my mouth

A man of import

Becomes a a man of consequences

A God

Becomes a reflection in the rear-view mirror

 

I cannot, for the life of me,

Describe to God how

I cannot, for the afterlife of me,

Ascribe to the Bible, how it

Prescribes 2 Testaments of Jesus

And pray to Him the morning after

 

I often imagine

How this world is Hell for women

And Hell for men is an Earth

Where Eve came first

 

Or a world where Jesus was not a Christian

But a Jew

And his last name wasn’t Christ

But Bar-Joseph

 

Evil is to Live backwards

Thus

God is a Dog

 

I hope I get over this soon

Harmonious Brilliance

Time continues to pass as the world’s longest orchestrated masterpiece continues to weave eternity, infinity, and ineffability with reality, divinity, and humanity. Some look back to Beethoven, Bach, and Mozart with reverence, claiming them to be geniuses and prodigies for their contributions to our world’s annals of music. But, these mere masculine mortals have no chance of competing with the conductor who knows exactly how each and every movement of His creation will crescendo, switch time signatures, and pan out. This man with a plan knows exactly when each person will play what note, which is miraculous since His orchestra improvises. Now, to the average person that may sound like sheer chaos; how can even the finest musicians improvise for so long and still maintain their sanity? One key is that the only one who listens to it all is the conductor himself. He is directing for an audience of one.

Well who are these musicians then? Don’t they tire of playing? And therein lies this man’s surpassing effulgence. His musicians rotate! Upon a player’s completion of his contribution to the perpetual symphony, he leaves his instrument for his replacement and heads through the two white doors (off the record, those who purposely disregard the conductor’s kind and benevolent lead end up leaving via the stairs in the back). This orchestra also has grown over time. Beginning with only a few, it has swelled into a pit housing nearly 6 and a half billion, each with their own instrument, which is, in some crucial way, instrumental to this gorgeous piece of art. And our conductor knows that should any one of those instruments be eschewed, His glorious project loses a bit of perfection. Alas, reportedly the piece is already strayed far from perfect, even after a massive reconfiguration after the concert hall deserted due to a sprinkler malfunction that endangered the woodwinds.

Now, you may be wondering who this mystery musician mastermind is. That is a grand question. Some who know him better affectionately call Him Father, for He seems to care for each of His colleagues as His own children. Those who regard Him with more distrust or distance think of Him as more of a far-fetched farce. But that could be because they are sitting so far from Him that they can’t even see His baton motions. Others can only manage hearing Him counting time but attribute His voice to something else, thereby creating confusion. And still others get so lost in the chaotic cacophony that is around them they can’t even comprehend the conductor’s call or count; these kids can’t seem to even comprehend the idea of a conductor controlling this crazy collection of cataclysmic crashes, crunches, and crescendos. So when you ask who is in charge, it depends on who you ask.

In the words of one of the musicians “All aspects of my life are seemingly transformed. The crashing problems become the percussion, the quiet lulls become the strings, the exciting segments become the horns, and the wonderful conversations become the winds. It was after I realized this that it became apparent that my life, along with everyone else’s, is a wonderful symphony of sights, sounds, and experiences. Thankfully we have a good conductor watching over us at all times.”