By Mike Barker
I’ve had an idea bouncing around in my mind for quite a while now, unformed until recently.
For me, this past Sunday was one of those days that you wish hadn’t happened. It was a horrible day. While the details aren’t important, it did cause me to seriously question (again) my relationship with the faith of my parents. It caused me to question my own faith. Is there a place in my faith-community for a person like me? What kind of person am I?
I read – a lot.
I think – a lot.
I question – a lot.
I hope – a lot.
I know – very little.
I love – a lot, but perhaps not enough.
I believe.
I have faith.
A few months ago one of my friends who reads this blog said to me, “Mike, you are smart. Be careful though. I have seen people like you who think too much and end up leaving the church.” I bristled at his comment. I have also been asked, “Mike, why do you read so much?” So why do I read? Why do I question? Why don’t I “know”?
I recently heard Dr. Bob Rees say, “There are two types of Mormons I don’t trust – those that don’t think at all and those that think too much.”1 I like that insight. But what is “too much”?
I don’t believe that rationale is antithetical to religious belief. To say that rationale is the only reliable form of epistemology is to deny many forms of truth: moral truths, aesthetic truths, intuitional truths, religious truths. It is just too restrictive a form of epistemology.
As I was driving home today, I called my brother, Paul, and started trying to work out my feelings about what happened this past Sunday and why I do feel so driven to study and question.
Most religious communities foster several forms of worshipping God. Worship can be expressed through ritual, through prayer, and through contemplative reflection. On very rare occasions have I, personally, found God through prayer or through ritual – be it temple, the Lord’s Supper, or other forms. It has dawned on me that I worship God by wrestling with Him with my mind, which does bring questions and doubts. But it is in this intellectual engagement where I ultimately feel closeness to my Heavenly Parents. “Belief itself is a choice I wrestle with God for, somewhere in a dark swampland, my inner landscape; where not only God’s credibility, but my own are at stake.”2
“If our popular [Mormon] culture demonizes the intellect, that’s not what Joseph [Smith] taught. Joseph taught that we are intellects fully as much as we are spirits. Or sometimes he seemed to say that our essence is spirit-intellects. That’s what we ontologically are. And to bifurcate those, to sunder the mind and the spirit is to be apostate from major thrusts of Joseph’s theology.”3
Now I have laid on the altar my sacrifice. The sacrifice that I bring to my faith-community is my mind, my thoughts, my intellect. But, wait. I am Cain, not Able. My sacrifice is not needed. My offering is not wanted. My offering is rejected. My offering is pushed out the chapel doors and asked not to return. I am Cain.
But do our Heavenly Parents require us to all worship the same? Are we all to bring the same offering to the altar?
“Surely, that each of the redeemed shall forever know and praise some one aspect of the divine beauty better than any other creature can. Why else were individuals created, but that God, loving all infinitely, should love each differently? And this difference, so far from impairing, floods with meaning the love of all blessed creatures for one another, the communion of saints. If all experienced God in the same way and returned Him an identical worship, the song of the Church triumphant would have no symphony, it would be like an orchestra in which all the instruments played the same note. Aristotle has told us that a city is a unity of unlikes, and St. Paul that a body is a unity of different members. Heaven is a city, and a Body, because the blessed remain eternally different: a society, because each has something to tell all others– fresh and ever fresh news of the ‘My God’ whom each finds in Him whom all praise as ‘Our God.’”4
It would be absurd for me to require my religious community to desist their ritualized and contemplative form of engaging the divine. So why, then, do so many feel uncomfortable with how I engage the divine?
“And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy…mind.”
This is how I engage Mormonism. This is how I worship God.
Notes:
1Dr. Bob Rees, A Thoughtful Faith podcast, episode 22; click here to listen.
2Dr. Wendy Ulrich, Ph.D. in psychology and education from University of Michigan and an M.B.A. from the University of California, Los Angeles. She has been a practicing psychologist for over twenty years, and is a former president of the Association of Mormon counselors and Psychotherapists; Best of FAIR podcast episode 10 “Believest thou…?” click here to listen.
3Dr. Phillip Barlow, Mormon Matters podcast, episode 73; 1:15; click here to listen.
2C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain.
Miguel Barker-Valdez
Miguel is a Guatemalan-American Mormon living in the Northwest with his family. He is one of the proprietors of the Rational Faiths blog.
All posts by Miguel Barker-Valdez
I was wondering if you’d write about this, and I’m glad to see you write about it in such vague terms. I think you’re wonderful, just as you are. I am so grateful to find another person—in my own ward, even—who understands what it means to wrestle with a testimony. (Although only one of us has any business wearing a singlet.) (Me.) My religious experience would become bleak without some Brother Barker in it. You may feel pushed out of the chapel doors, but I will fight to force the door open for all of us as long as I have strength.
What a wonderfully thoughtful post. A few thoughts.
At times, you may find that the bristling you get is not because you intellectualize, but because of the conclusions you reach through your particular intellectual leanings. For example, the sacred feminine leanings of this blog don’t speak to me. Indeed, they turn me off. Some of you have arrived at the sacred feminine table by rationalizing what any reasonable mother would want for her children and then (to my frenzied, sometimes orthodox mind) imagined for yourselves just such a mother. It isn’t the fact that you rationalized your way to a prayerful relationship with another god (or the yin to the yang of the same god), it is that you have found your way to a new god (or yin to the yang of the same god). Regardless of the methods (you would get the same results if you testified of a non-intellectualized spectacular visitation), there will be a revulsion factor given our doctrine (or our understanding of the doctrine). It isn’t that you are too intellectual, it is that others will reject your conclusions or leanings.
The second thought is that it might just be that people feel attacked by the way you express your intellectual journeyings. Some of the memes on this blog, including some of your posts suggest a mistrust and displeasure with those saints who you regard as worshiping in thoughtless stupor. You quoted above part of the Savior’s injunction to “love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy soul, and with all thy mind.” You ellipsed out heart and soul, focusing only on mind. Your neighbors in the pews likely ellipse two out of the three or even three out of the three. All they put into the equation is their heart, or maybe just their rutted habitual self, with no real heart, soul, mind. Speaking of those who love the Lord with just their whole heart, but don’t really intellectually engage, is it possible that maybe the one who loves with all his heart and his neighbor who just loves with all his mind are really just lop-sided Christians who mistrust anyone who has the opposite lopsidedness?
Third, and continuing on the heart, soul, and mind theme, it makes sense to me that loving with just all your mind is never going to bring the peace that Christ promises. All mind and no heart and soul is like a knife without a handle. Actually, that isn’t quite right. All mind and just some heart and soul are the problem. Or all heart and just some of mind and soul present an equal problem. It is only in the culmination of giving all of my heart, soul and mind that I can become like the Savior. Easier said than done, I know, but isn’t that the injunction?
Fourth, well, join the club. You are in “wretched” company. Nephi’s lamentation in 2 Ne. 4 (O wretched man that I am! . . . .) Nephi kind of asks, ok, so all this great stuff has happened to me. I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing. I’ve seen miracles. I’ve worked miracles. I have seen the Savior. (Does that fact bear repeating?) So, why, then, is my spiritual journey so blasted joyless? My heart is consumed by my enemy (probably not just Satan, but his brothers). Why am I so droopy all the time? Angry all the time? Why am I so week? After seeing the Savior and everything else I have seen, shouldn’t I be, at least a little, fulfilled, happy? Nephi tells his heart to buck up, but did it work? Nephi’s writings are filled with regret, recriminations, anger and disappointment. He may have written that they lived after the manner of happiness, but he does not describe any personal happiness. In fact, his promised land was full of nothing but fratricide and he knew that his children would lose that battle.
By the way, consider this. Nephi, like you, was an intellectual. He introduces himself by describing his learning, delights in the toughest scriptures available to him, and reads and recites them constantly. He was an egghead, and he was alone in that. Lehi seems to have a passing acquaintance with the scriptures, talking a bit about Joseph’s writing, and among his immediate decendants, only his nephew Enos ever talks about past scriptures. Consider this also: Nephi appears to have had at least one son, but none of his children appear to have been worthy or interested in carrying on his intellectual tradition. They don’t get the plates. Jacob does and then Jacob doesn’t pass them to any of Nephi’s kids, but to Enos. As an intellectual, Nephi was alone and any cursory reading of the Book of Mormon will also show that his intellectual bent (or at least his admittedly activist interpretation of the scriptures) drove a wedge between he and his brothers, a wedge that would lead to generations of war.
Lastly, consider the wisdom of Jimmy Neutron. “In times of crisis, intellectuals are the first to go.” The wisdom of Jimmy doesn’t just describe mormonism, but society at large. It comes with the egghead territory.
Respectfully,
Haggoth
Hagoth, thank you for bringing up these points. I’ve been thinking about them throughout the day. It’s good to get another perspective.
well put.
Jerilyn, thank you.
I want to be in your ward too.
My first thought is – of course there’s room… within the gospel. The gospel teachings.
But within the culture of Mormonism? I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not.
I’m not feelin’ it lately so that may taint my opinion.
PS My laptop broke. I can’t get it to turn charge and it’s dead. I’m waiting for a part to arrive from freaking China. When I fix it I swear I’ll finish my District posts!
I find that writing sometimes helps me work things out. I learned this from my friend Kylan.
I like to think of myself as an intellectual too. I like questions. I think it’s because I often find questions closer to the truth than their answers. I think this is why some (or many) in the church are wary of those who question too much: our questions raise answers that are unsatisfactory, uncomfortable, or that just breed more questions. This is often seen as destructive to faith, when faith is correlated to certitude. Some do not understand Dostoevsky’s perspective: “my faith is bourne through a crucible of doubt.”
But the lack of understanding of those who eschew questions is only half of the conflict. The other half often is bred by those whose questions are addressed to those who do not question. It goes back to the inoculation versus indoctrination fallacy. Not everyone cares or needs to know the answers to questions that I become obsessed with. I do an injustice when I impose my perspective and values on those who don’t share them. My job in this estate is not to come down to educate everyone I come in contact with. Nor is it to diagnose their lack of vision and understanding and inject them with my own concoction of “truth.”
A logical conclusion would then be to tell the questioners to just keep their mouth shut. I do t think this is right either. Your quote about the communion of saints is beautiful. But it works both ways. A full orchestra needs triangle players as well as bassoons. Some people prefer the sound of the triangle to the bassoon. The art of the symphony is in using all of the components in the right amount at the right time. There is a time for and amount of questioning that is always appropriate in a community of saints. And there is a time for and amount of silence and acceptance of difference or misunderstanding that is appropriate in a community of saints. Sometime tht forbearance is just why is needed to create the dramatic tension that, at some point in the future, creates the space that is ripe for intellectual and symphonic climax. The art, again, of the community of saints is in know when to play an when to keep silent. In that sense we are more of a jazz combo than an orchestra, which is much more difficult to do well.
I heard a simplistic but powerful analogy which gets to this: there are iron rod Mormons and liahona Mormons. Brother Joseph raised a big tent. There’s room for us all, provided each give the other room to breathe and make choices and work out their own salvation in the way that they decide suits them best. Ultimately, how that works out is up to ourselves alone anyway.
Oh, I’m not an intellectual, but thanks. And thanks for being considerate enough to write a thoughtful comment.
I agree, there are times to speak and times to shut your pie-hole.
Michael, there is a lot here to digest. Something you understand but didn’t mention was the fact that the scriptures tell us that the glory of God is intelligence. We are encouraged and commanded to always be learning. We should be reading more and more, and always learning. The issue then is not so much that we shouldn’t be always learning or thinking, but questioning. Do we as members have the right to question things we don’t understand or that may not add up? You raise some very good points.
How do we learn if we don’t question.
I would also add our whole religion started because a 14 year old boy had the courage to ask a question.
I’m not suggesting that we don’t have the right to ask questions. You are right, the church was founded by an answer to a question. We should ask questions. And the truth is that some things have an answer and some things we have to accept on faith. The church is run by people who themselves make mistakes. Mike is right, we have to learn more and we should ask questions and I don’t believe asking questions is being apostate.
Brother Husk,
Thanks for reading this and posting a comment; a thoughtful comment.
I intended my long-winded comment to be a general reply, not to Jerilyn’s reply. I sure with there was a way to fix posts on this site ;-/
This post was purposefully vague. Perhaps because of the vagueness, there are some assumptions on your part that need to be corrected.
My intellectual engagement is not at the exclusion of other forms of worship nor epistemology; it is where I most commonly interact with God.
My quoting of Matthew 22:37 was not to exclude the “heart and soul”, but to emphasize the mind; I refer you to my quoting of Bob Rees.
I don’t believe you have read many, or perhaps any, of my posts. Not to throw my brother under the bus, but you might be getting Paul and I mixed up. I encourage you to read my series on the resurrection and weekly D&C series. Perhaps you are referring to the back and forth we had a few months ago?
And lastly, not everything that comes to my brain comes out of my mouth nor on paper/this blog. I do have a filter; but it could use improvement!
Thanks for being a regular reader of our blog! It’s boring and no growth occurs if everyone is agreeing. It is in the push-back that one either develops a better argument, or is forced to abandon it.
“Now I have laid on the altar my sacrifice. The sacrifice that I bring to my faith-community is my mind, my thoughts, my intellect. But, wait. I am Cain, not Able. My sacrifice is not needed. My offering is not wanted. My offering is rejected. My offering is pushed out the chapel doors and asked not to return. I am Cain.”
When I read this quote my heart was saddened. I grieved for you. I felt the sadness in your voice at the feeling of being rejected. Our bishop said it best a couple weeks ago when he said that the Church of Jesus Christ of LDS should be the most inclusive place on this earth…and more often then not we are not the most inclusive place. I can only feel sadness at this time
There’s definitely some tension there. I believe Mormonism will rise to the occasion and do that which is best for all.
G-Man, sometimes we need pain to recognize “painless.” Michael’s offering may not be accepted by fellow LDS, but THAT, in the end, doesn’t matter and it is not his (M’s) problem. God accepts Michael’s offering. God is the only one who matters.
I do agree that it is a shame that there is so much fear among many LDS that anything that may not have come directly from SLC and/or Deseret Book is suspect. As I have mentioned to you recently-I really believe the 13th A of F-“If there is ANYTHING virtuous, lovely,of good report or praiseworthy we SEEK after these things. We are actively seeking those things in these dialogues.
Thank-you Michael for a thoughtful, well reasoned, inspired post. I feel very hopeful when I read this post.
Michael Barker,
Whether you’re an intellectual or not, you are one of the guiding lights of Mormonism at this time. Misfits need their patron saints too, and you’re one of mine.
As an aside, what’s missing from this whole discussion is what I have gleaned from your Facebook posts as your absurd sense of humor. It’s not easy to laugh at ignorance or hurtfulness, but it is always more profitable than giving harm power by taking offense. Forgive them for they know not what they do. I’m sure you know all this already, I’m just pointing out that there’s nothing funny here, and there probably should be. More yucks, less schmucks!
Well your wish may come true. We are going to try a few podcasts that will be more lighthearted. Or they will totally stink. We recorded one and Paul said it was so horrible he won’t let Jerilyn nor I listen to it.
I’ll let you listen to it, I just need to upload it somewhere for you.
Speak for yourself, Barker. I was a shining podcast star.
I hate comments that are longer than the post. Get your own blog!
In a post full of angst about whether there is a place for someone like you and which wonders whether Mormon culture is inclusive enough to accommodate your unique offerings, an insider on your blog takes a trollish pot shot at another poster and you say, “Ha! Ha! That’s good.” Your modeling of the type of inclusiveness you would like to see is perplexing.
Hagoth,
I agree with you. Please forgive me. I have deleted my horrible comment.
mike
We’re good. Thanks for listening and for staying true to the spirit of your post and what you are trying to achieve. Both are worthwhile. Feel free to delete mine.
Another beautiful post. I often feel very alone and frustrated at church because I have very simply been told to “keep my mouth shut”. I am there to serve and nothing else. If others can comment and teach freely, why can I not? I hope you are able to continue your journey in the church. The church CULTURE needs more people like us.
Thanks Ollie. It’s good sometimes to know that there are others on this journey.
Mike, this is a great post. And heart-felt. Heart. Felt.
You are indeed someone who is driven to seek answers via your intellect. But just as surely, your heart -your passion- is driving you. No? Passion about truth. Passion about the kingdom. This is something we all share. And I agree that we need to learn how to connect with each other in this desire to know and serve God, and pay less attention to how we each go about it.
I deeply appreciate your writing and the time you take to research and compose for people like me to read and ponder. No doubt you have a place at the Mormon table. (maybe it feels like you’ve been relegated to the picnic table in the yard, but still. . .)
I consider myself on the other end of the spectrum that Hagoth describes. My heart is the doorway to God. My mind and intellect follow behind and tidy up the mess made along the way. In the short time I’ve been acquainted with Rational Faiths, I’ve done some nice tidy-ing, thanks to you and others here.
God bless. Keep on questioning, brother. And cry like a baby if it helps.
Melody,
Thank you. We all approach this differently and that is what make the gospel so dang awesome.
We need to meet up sometime when I am in Utah.
Dude- much love. I look forward to meeting up in person someday.
I have many thoughts on this, as it hit close to home for me (specifically- the tensions that has arisen in my familial relationships due to my “questioning” nature).
I guess I’ll leave you with just only one of those many thoughts-
A faithful life ≠ theological reconciliation.
Jonathan,
I totally agree. I am comfortable with ambiguity and some things having no answers.
I’m with you, brother. What can we do but bring our widow’s mite, the precious offering that may seem inadequate to others but is “even all that we have”?
Oh,yes the widow’s mite. Beautiful metaphor. Thank you
Brother Barker, I am in awe of your courage. Your willingness and ability to put your heart and mind out there for the whole world is inspiring. I don’t think there are many members who have accepted Elder Ballard’s invitation to join the Internet conversation like you have. Thank you for leading the way.
Please allow me to add two answers to your question, “What kind of person am I?”
You answer – a lot.
You testify – a lot.
I love asking you questions because I learn from your answers. I learn history, doctrine, gospel, and I learn truth from you. You have paid, and you continue to pay, the price to answer – a lot.
My testimony grows when you testify. Just one example: I will never forget when you shared your feelings with me about The Book of Mormon and the very personal relationship you had developed with its authors over the course of 2012. It was unique and powerful.
Thank you for the post. I accept you. I want you. I need you. I love you!
Bishop, you never fail to astound me with your compassion and love for the members of our ward. I hope I tell you that often enough, because I don’t know if you hear it enough.
Bishop,
That was pretty brave to put it out there on the blogernacle that you are MY bishop. Thank you for the thoughtful comment and more especially, thanks for the long chats we have had.
Michael, I don’t know what happened, but I share your frustration and pain in being hurt in a place that is supposed to be healing. . .happens to me too. Recently I have found some comfort in the knowledge that the Savior understands this sort of pain, after all, it was his own people, the Jews, not the Romans that sought his death.
My husband is frequently told, “you think too much. This from non-members about non-church related issues. 🙂
So I see this as a problem both within and outside of the church. Some people choose to spend their time in other ways besides reading, and learning which is fine (though I can’t fathom it personally). Those people tend to be confused about others who are continually seeking knowledge. American culture respects education through a traditional source i.e. colleges and universities, is respected, but if your are autodidactic, that causes raised eyebrows perhaps even disdain. I don’t know why.
I believe the Lord appreciates your mind and accepts what you have to place on the alter. Remember, the church is to assist us not get in between us and our relationship with Diety.
Leslie,
Thank you for reading my essay, for a very thoughtful response, and for the beautiful essays you have written for our blog.
I think your above comment makes some good points. We all want the answers NOW, NOW, NOW!!! And keep it simple stupid; you know, the KISS principle.
Michael–I think the only thing that would make thinking into “thinking too much” is putting your trust entirely in what you can understand intellectually and rejecting all else. I think you made fairly clear that you recognize this trap and avoid it. It is this potential for hubris that renders the intellect dangerous. Most everything that is good can be turned to Satan’s uses, if we let it be. But that certainly doesn’t make the thing evil.
As long as we understand that we are yet as little children, and not able to comprehend all the mysteries of God; as long as we approach our mental capabilities with humility and gratitude; as long as we reach out with our hearts to God as well as with our minds, I think we stand in good stead. Seeking to uncover the mysteries of God simply by thinking, and letting this intellectual search replace our worship and sense of reverence and quest to become as a little child is an example of missing the mark, I think. It can quickly turn into a form of idolatry–worshiping the God of intellect.
When we seek to become as a little child, it is as though the lenses we have been struggling to bring into focus with our intellect are shifted to auto-focus, (because we trust our Father to focus them) and we see far more clearly.
Julia,
I agree.
I hope this isn’t in part a repeat of a comment I’ve made here before. I remember writing something here once but seem to remember that it turned out to be like one of those letters that one feels compelled to write but then decides not to send.
To preface—while a member of the ward and at the very least subconsciously following the example of a certain Michael Barker, whom I didn’t know well other than by participation in the Gospel Doctrine class, in the course of reading scripture that was tangental to the recommended reading for the next class I had what in my unwritten list of top ten spiritual experiences is now in my top three. It wasn’t the insight I received but the implications it had for my testimony that immediately drove me to my knees in gratitude. So ever since I’ve had a soft spot in my heart for you. Part two—sometime later you gave in sacrament meeting a talk that in my memory was the most obtuse I’ve ever heard. It would have been time for a short nap except that I was following very closely in hope of understanding where you were taking us. I never figured it out, but I remember it being some very detailed historical occurence in the Book of Mormon.
All that said, and not knowing what happened in church, I might guess that you made a comment in a class that ruffled someone’s feathers. If that was the case I would like to share my current approach to making comments during the course of a class. It has been my wont my whole life to enjoy making comments that I find interesting but do not necessarily contribute to the flow of the lesson. (Those who are familiar with my comments to their Facebook posts can now think, “You hypocrite!”) In my old age I hope I’ve learned to not detract fom the lesson and consider the makeup of the class.
You can, and do, let it all hang out on this blog, but many of the things you say here might not be appropriate to say in the same manner from the pulpit or in a class. The Lord says something similar when he gives instruction to the early missionaries of the Restoration to preach faith, repentance and baptism. The KISS principle. I have a firm testimony that the Book of Mormon was provided as a missionary tool, especially in the first days of the Church, when the First Vision was not taught until many years later.
The people at church who are able and would benefit from your insights will make themselves known.
Brother Day,
First – thank you for the kind complement.
Secondly, the post was not prompted by a reaction received by one of my comments in Church. It is much, much, more complicated than that. As this essay was not an expose and was purposefully vague, it is open for interpretation and misunderstanding.
I agree, not everything that I write here, needs to be said in Church; that’s why I say it here.
The talk you are trying to remember was probably my talk on polygamy and the First Vision. Here is the link to the unedited talk:
http://rationalfaiths.com/joseph-smiths-first-vision-the-lds-temple-endowment-and-polygamy/
It is from philosophy that we get our questions to which we look to the gospel for answers. Isn’t in doing so, a form of “being anxiously engaged in a good cause”?
I love this.
I’ve been accused that the academy is my church, and that I view church “too academically.” I could only answer your very last answer (but not quite as beautifully): This is how I engage Mormonism. This is how I worship God.
Thank you. And thank you for the scripture directly preceding it: “And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy…mind.”
Rachel,
Thank you. Your comment means a lot to me in that it is coming from a true Mormonn intellectual.