Response to: Confessions of a Mormon Bishop

 

A popular blog entry has been making the rounds lately: Confessions of a Mormon Bishop.  It's written by a Mormon bishop (pastor) and he talks about what he deals with each week and the lessons he believes he has learned.  The author seems like a nice guy and I wish him all the best, but I do take some issue to some of these "lessons," and would like to offer some counter views.

First, I will say that I feel sorry for a lot of Mormon bishops.  Many of them don't ask for or seek the job.  Very few are actually qualified for it, as the typical bishop tends to act simultaneously as a marriage counselor, therapist, life coach, and mentor for the members of his ward.  The church doesn't give them any formal training for these duties.  Rather, bishops are expected to "follow the spirit" (feelings/impressions/hunches) to effectively guide their congregations.  It doesn't always work out so well.

Preliminarily, there is one general problem that applies to many of this bishop's "lessons."  The conclusions he is making are based on a non-representative sample size of the human population.  Almost without exception, as a Mormon bishop he is dealing only with active members of the Mormon church.  They may be more susceptible to whatever neurological forces are at play when they think they're feeling the "spirit."  Perhaps they are people who value hierarchy, structure, and order.  They may lean more towards black and white thinking.  There could be many other attributes that are self-selected for in church members.  For this reason, it's difficult to confidently draw general conclusions from such a skewed sampling.

Anyway, on to the content.  I won't comment on every "lesson" listed by this bishop (I probably agree with some of them); just those I find either wrong or interesting.

"I have learned that we believe it is a strength to conceal weakness."

And one of the more stigmatized weaknesses in Mormonism is doubt.  In Mormon culture, doubting is frowned upon and seen as inconsistent with a testimony of the "truth."  There is much more doubt in the rank and file of the Mormon church than most members realize.  And the reason?  Doubt is concealed because everyone wants to be the person who gets up during testimony meeting to proclaim their "knowledge" with gusto and conviction.  I've often wondered at the extent to which Mormonism is propped up by this general tendency to mask doubt, similar to investment bubbles that last only as long as everyone thinks everyone else thinks the whatever-it-is remains valuable.

"I have learned that we are creatures of habit."

"I have learned that faith is a muscle."

I thought it interesting that he listed these consecutively.  I presume that in this context, the "faith" he's referring to is of the religious variety.  I personally see religious faith as unproductive and lazy, as it is not grounded in reality or empiricism.  I also think the exercise of religious faith is a learned habit, as opposed to a muscle.  "Muscle" implies effort.  Ascribing events to invisible deities is lazy and does not provide one with much incentive to discover true forces and mechanisms at work.  Hoping for a divine miracle may inadvertently lead someone to be less resourceful and more reliant on others, looking outward for assistance rather than inward.  One common manifestation of religious faith is the mystified declaration "Everything happens for a reason."  The implication, of course, is that there is some cosmic purpose to the seemingly inexplicable negative things that happen to us from time to time.  The reality is that bad things just happen, sometimes from pure randomness but most of the time because of some mistake we or others have made.  Attributing the negative event to some unseen force or being (god) may prevent one from conducting much-needed introspection to determine whether the negative event could have been avoided through a change in personal behavior or those of others.  But self-reflection and introspection lie within the province of reason, not religious faith.  If anything, exercising reason and common sense is most analogous to working a muscle, because it takes considerably more effort.  Exercising religious faith is often the path of least resistance and usually arises from habits instilled at a very young age.

"I have learned that it is far easier to deny deity than to deny desire."

That's because one is real, and the other is not.

"I have learned the mystery surrounding death forces a consideration of spiritual matters."

"Forces" is a strong word.  It may lead more superstitious people to consider spiritual matters, or those who were raised on the belief that they will be together forever as an eternal family if they remain faithful.  There is also evidence that people become more religious as they age.  Why?  Probably because of the reality of death.  One of the main reasons religion arose in the first place was to give people comfort or hope in the face of death's inevitability.  Religion had better hope and pray that we never figure out a way to dramatically extend our lifespans, because that will be the day when the majority finally sees just how obsolete religion has become.

"I have learned that observance of the Sabbath recalibrates perspective and improves judgment."

Aside from the inherent subjectivity to this statement ("perspective," "judgment"), one might say something similar of any relaxing weekend or day off.  (Many might question, however, whether a faithful Mormon's Sundays, often full of 4-5 hours of meetings, are relaxing at all!)  This observation really isn't that profound.  You would rightly expect anyone who devotes hours of her Sundays to a particular activity to develop perspectives, judgments, and attitudes consistent with that activity.  Cognitive dissonance theory practically demands it.

"I have learned that to deal with life’s pain most of us choose one of the following: alcohol, drugs, pornography, or spirituality."

One might wonder what type of "pain" he's referring to here.  Is it the pain one feels when contemplating all of the millions of injustices throughout the world?  Is it life stress?  Family problems?  Career issues?  Everyone, both Mormons and non-Mormons alike, deals with these types of pain every day.  The majority of people do not consciously turn to alcohol or drugs with the intent of abating such pain.  In fact, the majority of people who use alcohol, drugs, and pornography do so in moderation and/or responsibly, without the ensuing guilt that Mormonism attaches to such activities.  Furthermore, why didn't he also list "food" here, if he wants to rag on common indulgences? Self-control isn't limitless, and at the end of the day, this may be a faithful Mormon's only indulgence "outlet."  To be fair, though, he did use the term "us," so maybe he is acknowledging that these are the primary indulgences to which he thinks generally faithful Mormons turn.

On the other hand, if he's talking about religious pain, then I have little sympathy for that.  Religious pain/guilt is superfluous and unnecessary.  Such pain is nothing more than the figurative disease for which religion conveniently provides a "cure."  I am wholly unimpressed with people who turn to spirituality to cope with religious pain.

Also, the "vices" he mentions just so happen to be the primary prohibitions of Mormonism.  Due to the "forbidden fruit hypothesis," it shouldn't surprise us that Mormons find such substances or practices more desirable and alluring than they might otherwise be.  (See also: The Forbidden Fruit in Relationships.)  Ironically, Mormonism may not only be creating, but aggravating, the problems it's attempting to prevent.  For example, not only is pornography absolutely prohibited, there is also enormous stigma against those "caught" in its "snares," which creates an intense guilt complex for many Mormons, resulting in a lot of misery and on rare occasions--even suicide.  (Here is an example of the typical female Mormon response to undefined "pornography addiction.")  Meanwhile, the experts disagree over whether pornography use can be addictive in the traditional sense, and what degree of use qualifies as "addiction."  (Needless to say, your rank and file Mormons haven't a clue as to either of these questions.)  I am quite confident that if the Mormon church stopped treating pornography like a huge, menacing, family-destroying monster, it would largely cease being one.  It would lose much of its "forbidden" appeal; people would stop feeling so worthless and guilty about it when they "slip up;" spouses would feel less jaded and offended by a partner's occasional use (as long as it didn't negatively affect their own sexual intimacy); and hell--spouses might even watch it together sometimes to get some new ideas.  (Honestly, how else would you learn new tricks if not from either reading, watching, or discussing sexual material?)  This is how people outside of the Mormon bubble deal with pornography, and by and large they seem to be doing just fine.  I strongly doubt there is a single case of a pornography viewer outside of a conservative religious context committing suicide as a result of his use thereof.  I also submit that pornography will become much less "tempting" once you stop categorically branding it as an evil tool of Satan.  Accordingly, it may become less "addicting," to the extent that word even applies.

A final point of irony here is that this bishop (inadvertently?) lumped "spirituality" in with other practices that he characterizes as more or less escape tactics.  While this certainly wasn't the point he was trying to make, I think the point is well taken.  Many people may use spirituality/religion (in Mormonism there is hardly a distinction) the same way others use alcohol or drugs: as a means of escaping the harsh realities of life.  Going back again to the inevitability of death: what better way to "escape" that reality than to declare that we never really die, but that our spirits live on, and that indeed, one day we'll get our bodies back?  Reality avoidance at its finest.

"I have learned pornography is highly addictive and has nothing to do with sexual appetites and everything to do with escape.  And that the habit is never overcome in isolation."

Harping again on one of the more popular Mormon vices of the day.  As this bishop has already stated, he never received any training for this job and judging from his website, he has no expertise in the area of psychological compulsions or physiological addictions.  Furthermore, how would he know that a pornography habit is never overcome in isolation?  The problem is that the types of questions he, as a bishop, is taught to ask, preclude the possibility of something like this being overcome in isolation.  During personal "worthiness" interviews, a bishop will customarily ask church members if there are "any unresolved sins" they need to confess or clear up.  Naturally, a pornography habit will be included in this category, so a faithful Mormon will feel inclined and conditioned to make a confession about it, even if it has already been resolved without ecclesiastical involvement (i.e., in isolation).  Once the confession is made, the habit is then something that, by definition, will not be resolved "in isolation," because the bishop is now involved!  Even if the confessing member's last pornography use was a year or more in the past, the bishop (and this may vary widely depending on the bishop) may recommend that the member attend the church's "addiction" workshops.  This observation/lesson is thus unremarkable due to the skewed sample with which this bishop necessarily works, and the manner in which he works with it.

"I have learned that we feel like a failure when we make mistakes even when we profess a belief that the purpose of this existence is to make and learn from them."

Sure, Mormons are experts at miserable guilt complexes.  And why not?  They have holy books that tell them their god can't look upon sin with the least degree of allowance, and that whenever they sin, all their previous sins are basically renewed.  Anyone who believes stuff like that would probably be more prone to feelings of worthlessness when they make relatively harmless mistakes.  This ties in to the "fear" that pervades Mormon belief, which I'll delve into a little more in another entry.

"I have learned that forgiveness is the greatest gift we can offer someone.  And ourselves."

Actually, here's a trick to cut down on the amount of self-forgiving you need to do in the first place: discard the notion of "sin" altogether.  Sin is a purely religious construct and is not the equivalent of immorality.  We all have a built-in sense of what is right and wrong (except for sociopaths), and it generally stems from feelings of empathy: do unto others as you would have done unto you.  (Jesus wasn't the first one to come up with that, by the way.)  Sin is the idea that your actions offend or injure god, regardless of their impact on you or others.  Well quite frankly, if god exists, then as the supreme ruler of the entire universe, I don't think he's going to get his celestial panties in a twist if he catches you playing with your private parts.




That isn't to say that I don't believe in guilt at all.  Guilt is fine, when warranted.  If you've genuinely harmed another person, that is a perfect opportunity to experience guilt, for it may prompt you to make restitution, salvage a relationship, and learn to not repeat the act in the future.  That is the proper time and place to feel guilt.  That is the proper time to seek forgiveness.

"I have learned that churches are not museums or catwalks for perfected saints but rather labs for sinners."

But heaven forbid you actually acquire the label of "sinner," for then you are roundly shunned by many faithful Mormons.  And just so there's not any doubt, particularly grievous sinners have to openly proclaim as much by not participating in a weekly public ritual: sacrament (aka communion in other faiths).

"I have learned that to be happy is a choice."

Overly simplistic.  There is actually a lot more to happiness than simply turning off negative thoughts or feelings, as any trained psychologist will tell you.  (Am I sensing a pattern here?)  Declaring nonsense like this to clinically depressed people is anything but helpful, and in most cases, probably harmful. 

"I have learned that we want God to grant us space to make decisions but step in to stop others, nature, mortality, or illness from hurting us or those we love."

And honestly, who can blame these poor Mormons faced with a litany of conflicting messages?  With the faith of a mustard seed they can allegedly move mountains.  "Ask and ye shall receive, knock and it shall be opened unto you."  vs.  "Not my will, but thy will be done."  Or how about, "I, the Lord, am bound when ye do what I say." vs. the undeniably random realities of life.  The Book of Mormon is replete with stories of how things would just magically work out for the righteous, and the wicked were routinely punished.  Unfortunately, this book is fictional, so it bears little relation to how life actually works.  Mormons are given a false sense of control in their lives that simply does not consistently deliver in real life.  Sadly, this misconception shows no sign of abating, as it is fueled by confirmation bias, the arch-nemesis of rational thinkers everywhere.

"Indeed, I have learned I have much to learn."

Don't we all?  Some of us more than others.