Monday, May 23, 2005

Group

A few months ago I was invited by some very venerable, very spiritual older women to join a “group”—a sort of theological, scriptural study thing that met once a week to discuss a spiritual text chosen by the group. The reasons why I was asked to join this group is unclear, considering a) I can’t really keep secrets about anything I do and b) my family isn’t exactly what you would call “in good standing” with the other members of our ward right now. Still, my mother tells me that the group is quite exclusive, and that my invitation was an unprecedented honor.

The group is supposed to be secret because the church doesn’t really look well upon private study groups of the gospel. The reasons for this is that, apparently, study groups were very big in the eighties and resulted in a huge number of people leaving or being excommunicated as the result of philosophizing about the gospel without the benefit of personal revelation that comes with individual study. I must admit, even typing such a thing seems kind of embarrassing, as though the church was trying to institute some sort of mind control program. I think, just judging from study groups I’ve had in the past, that I may have to side with the church. Small groups invariably lead to gossip and half-truths parading as doctrine, and that gets messy.

Often group branches out into other arenas. I went to a lecture with one of the ladies about architecture in sacred spaces. The lecture took place in a greek orthodox church and consisted of analyzing synagogues, mosques, and orthodox chapels from architectural points of view.

But Wednesday I went over and sat in a room full of ladies at least 30 years older than me and talked about a book we had read on Christ’s parables and the restoration of the gospel. Certain parables, like those of the mustard seeds growing into trees in which birds rest, can be read in terms of the latter day restoration (the birds being angels), etc. But as is typical, we used that lesson as sort of a jumping off point to talk about gospel questions in general. The ladies started talking about Christian scientists, and the role science should play in our testimonies. I was expecting a knee jerk reaction such as, “None,” but was pleasantly surprised as each of the women named bits and pieces of scientific study that had helped strengthen their testimonies. Sister M had just returned from China, and while she was there, she had studied some of the pictograms in Mandarin. She said that there were certain cross-references to the Old Testament. For example, the word for “ark” contains a dove, the word for “temptation” is a woman and a tree. Or something to that effect. She gave me so many examples I am fairly certain I’ve mixed them up. Then there was another woman who mentioned the hieroglyphics in south America that allude to a huge battle between two large tribes that resulted in the destruction of one race—just as the book of mormon says. Than I mentioned countless similarities in after-death experiences. But what I commented on, and the other ladies agreed with, that it is an integral part of our testimony to draw on the facts of science, but we cannot make the mistake in assuming that a) science is infallible and b) those connections are cornerstones to your faith. It’s true that science is the closest thing we have to truth, but science is often overturned, and often. One of the argument that the book of mormon was ‘written’ by joseph smith was that it mentioned horses, which supposedly didn’t arrive in America before cortez. But recently, that finding was overturned, and it turns out there would have been horses in 400bc America. So basing your testimony, or lack thereof, solely on science seems rather pointless, in this respect. It should enhance or at worst allow for questioning, but the truth or lack thereof of a religion should be more intuitive than simply adding scientific facts.

Then we got onto the topic of prophetic revelation. Why is it that the doctrine of apotheosis, which is such an integral part of how we view man, downplayed by the church? We looked at the actual revelation, which was simply a quote by Lorenzo Snow (I think): “As man is, God once was. As God is, man may become.” Sister B thought that this was downplayed because we have a tendency to humanize God, to make him more human, and that in turn causes us to lose respect for Him. Sister M thought that it was because it turned us away from our focus—it made us selfish, as if the only reason we should be good is for the chance of ultimate power. And sister W said that she thought it was downplayed so that investigators didn’t get the wrong idea, since it’s such a strange and complex theory that most people aren’t familiar with. I sort of chimed in that while it wasn’t stressed it was an integral part of my testimony, because it coincides perfectly with my understanding of man. I have never bought into the platonic idea that the body was a prison, was corrupt, and only through denial of the body can we ever hope to be better. But I also have never bought into the idea that every impulse the body has should be catered to. That’s why the idea of apotheosis appeals—it allows for man’s divinity, his ultimate perfection, but at the same time, it requires a certain amount of strength and sacrifice to attain. I don’t believe man’s fate is to suffer, nor do I believe he is bound to be a hedonist.

This then that we started wondering which doctrine and revelation should be viewed as integral, which peripheral, and which is give or take. If everything the prophet says is scripture, what should we follow? The answer: whatever the church is teaching now. But why? Doesn’t this seem as if we are constantly scrapping doctrine, much as the catholic church does. And isn’t that something we’re always criticizing the catholic church for? Mrs. B pointed out that different generations need different warnings, and what is emphasized to one group isn’t emphasized in the other. The more specific something is, often the more you can go by the principle behind it, Sister M pointed out. Take in the seventies, the church warned against face cards. This was part of two movements: anti-black magic (ouija and tarot was becoming popular), and also against gambling. You should follow the letter of the law, but really trying to understand and follow the spirit of the law is much more.

It was then that we got into the concept of the plain and simple truth. The idea that, in the gospels, it is more likely that Christ speaking to his father was just that—not in fact some strange breach of physics by which Christ is inexplicably talking to himself. The corruption of the godhead, I argued, comes from an overintellectual view of the scriptures, a theory that can only happen when professional theologians spend hours torturing over problems. Sister M likened the corruption of the concept of the godhead to the arguments used by the crowds when Jesus cast devils into pigs and was accused of casting out devils by the power of Satan.

Then I went home and sat on mom’s bed and imagined what happened if I was wrong about religion, what if after death there was nothing but black. Scary indeed