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.

Letter to Richard Dawkins

Richard Dawkins was recently interviewed on a show called Radio West, which is based out of Salt Lake City.  I wrote a letter to him (his foundation) attempting to answer a question he himself raised during the interview, but which no one really addressed.  Here it is.

***

Dear Mr. Dawkins:

I recently had the pleasure of listening to you being interviewed by Doug Fabrizio on the Radio West program out of Salt Lake City, Utah.  During the interview you received a few calls from local listeners (both Mormons and ex-Mormons), and in the course of those exchanges you  expressed genuine perplexity as to how more Mormons don’t see through the incredible story of Joseph Smith and the “translation” of the golden plates.

As someone who was raised a Mormon (now agnostic), I thought I might try to shed some light on why and how so many Mormons fail to recognize or realize the absurdity surrounding many of the foundational events of their religion.  In my view, here are the primary reasons (discussed more fully below):

1.  They are unaware of the most bizarre details of these stories.  Information regarding such details are difficult to find in church publications.
2.  Church members are conditioned to distrust information found in non-church sources, which are often branded as “anti-Mormon” and thus dismissed as false/lies.
3.  Mormons are taught from a very young age to trust feelings over facts.

I draw primarily from first hand experience in identifying the above issues, but will also try to document them as best I can.

1.  Most Mormons are Unaware of the Problems.

If you were to approach an average, practicing Mormon on the street and tell him that Joseph Smith translated the Book of Mormon by placing a “seer stone” in a hat and burying his face in that hat, they would laugh at you and ask where you got your information (or, as Brandon Flowers told you, that you need to “do your homework”).  They might recognize that a “seer stone” was used in the process, but they would likely misidentify that artifact with the “Urim and Thummim,” which was something Joseph later claimed had been buried with the plates.  They would almost certainly not know that the actual seer stone used was the same one that Joseph had previously utilized in his fruitless treasure hunting endeavors.  In fact, they probably wouldn’t know anything about treasure hunting at all.

Instead, the story Mormons are raised on is that which is depicted in the “Joseph Smith History” found in Mormon scriptures, and penned by Smith himself.  This story depicts Smith as an earnest truth seeker who wanted to find the “correct” religion.  His quest for truth resulted in a series of visions and angelic visitations, ultimately culminating in his retrieval of gold plates and the purported “translation.”  None of the problems, historical inconsistencies, or hard questions are discussed in any detail.  You will never see an illustration in any church publication that correctly depicts the “translation” process of the Book of Mormon.  Rather, you see representations like the following:

 





(source: http://mormonthink.com/transbomweb.htm )

Accompanying descriptions of the translation process will almost always be appropriately vague: “Joseph translated the plates through the gift and power of God.”  “He did it by a divine gift of revelation.”  Mormon apologists identify only three instances where church publications expressly (but only briefly) mention Joseph putting his face in a hat, and only two of these appear in the church’s principal magazine, the most recent being in 1993.  Most other problematic issues are mentioned equally or even less frequently.  

2.  Non-Church Sources are Distrusted.

The Mormon church’s practice of presenting a one-sided, sanitized version of its history might not be totally unforgivable if it didn’t also discourage its members from reading books and articles written by church critics.  Such sources are often deemed “anti-Mormon.”  This label is imbued with heavy negative connotations to church members and when it is authoritatively attached to some outside source, most Mormons will routinely dismiss everything said by that source without any examination whatsoever.

Groupthink is a particularly powerful force in the Mormon church.  Criticism of church leaders is strongly discouraged.  In the 2007 PBS documentary “The Mormons,” one prominent church leader went so far as to state “It's wrong to criticize leaders of the church, even if the criticism is true.”  While speaking about the church’s history, another authority is infamous for asserting that “some things that are true are not very useful.”  (Boyd K. Packer, The Mantle is Far, Far Greater Than the Intellect, p. 5.)  In fact, in September of 1993, the Mormon church excommunicated six Mormon scholars for publishing articles or books that were critical of the church, its history, or its leaders.  (These individuals are popularly known as the “September Six.”)  Comments and events such as these create a culture of anti-intellectualism and conformity that strongly discourages free and critical thinking in the church.  Thus, even if your average Mormon does stumble upon troubling information, this second tier of defense often prevents him/her from seriously considering it.

3.  Mormons Believe That They Can Learn Truth Through Feelings.

In my opinion, this last point is the strongest reason that more Mormons do not “see through” the fraud that pervades their religion.  Mormons are taught from a very young age that the best and most reliable way to discover “truth” is to pray to god and ask questions.  If, as you’re praying, you feel something like peace, comfort, joy, excitement, etc., then that means god has confirmed to you the “truth” of whatever it is you’re praying about.  This “confirmation” also need not come through active prayer, but can come at any time one is performing some spiritual or religious act.  Thus, Mormons believe that if they experience these feelings while reading their holy books, this is incontrovertible proof that such books are “true.”

Here are the lyrics to a song memorized and performed by young Mormon children (ages 3-11):

I love to read the holy scriptures,
And, every time I do,
I feel the Spirit start to grow within my heart--
A testimony that they’re true.

Search, ponder, and pray
Are the things that I must do.
The Spirit will guide, and deep inside,
I’ll know the scriptures are true.

Many other children’s hymns reinforce this obviously flawed epistemology.  As you emphatically argue in The God Delusion, children are in no position to critically evaluate religious claims, and the Mormon church’s practice in this respect renders many adolescent and adult members unable to engage in such critical reflection later in life.  Mormons believe that these feelings are caused by the holy ghost, whose role is to “testify” of truth and protect from spiritual (or even physical) peril.  Two relevant, oft-quoted passages from Mormon scripture are the following:

2 Yea, behold, I will tell you in your mind and in your heart, by the Holy Ghost, which shall come upon you and which shall dwell in your heart.
3 Now, behold, this is the spirit of revelation; behold, this is the spirit by which Moses brought the children of Israel through the Red Sea on dry ground.  (Doctrine & Covenants 8:2-3)

8 But, behold, I say unto you, that you must study it out in your mind; then you must ask me if it be right, and if it is right I will cause that your bosom shall burn within you; therefore, you shall feel that it is right.
9 But if it be not right you shall have no such feelings, but you shall have a stupor of thought that shall cause you to forget the thing which is wrong; therefore, you cannot write that which is sacred save it be given you from me.  (Doctrine & Covenants 9:8-9)

While the context of the above passages pertains to the translation process of the Book of Mormon, church members commonly use them to describe how their epistemology “works.”  The first passage is often cited to illustrate that truth must “make sense” logically (“in your mind”) before it can be accepted as confirmed by the holy ghost.  The other necessary component is the feeling (“in your heart”).  If people are having trouble "receiving" (or perhaps--producing) this undefined mind/heart confirmation, the second passage is used to suggest that the question must be studied more thoroughly before god gives his confirmation.  Of course, not everyone experiences a timely or unambiguous “confirmation,” and this can force Mormons to equivocate as to what can be deemed an answer, as this flowchart humorously illustrates.  Confirmation bias then takes care of the rest.

[The following paragraph was not included in the original letter, mostly because I'm sure Mr. Dawkins can put two and two together, but I think it deserves being said nonetheless.]

As the linked flowchart says, these "spiritual" experiences are common across all religions, so if they really are coming from god, they are of little use in discerning the "correct" religion.  This is yet another fact that your average Mormon either doesn't realize or never thinks about, due to the very insular nature of their culture and upbringing.  The average Mormon does not have the occasion or desire to study other religions.  The closest they get is going on a mission, and in that context, the missionary only studies the other religion to the extent needed to establish some sort of broad "common ground," so that the discussion can be brought back to the "good" in Mormonism that they want to add to whatever it is the person already believes.  So essentially, the church superimposes itself onto human emotions that arise in a variety of both religious and non-religious contexts.  The peace and joy one feels while listening to an uplifting church message, for example, might be indistinguishable from the emotions felt while listening to a musical masterpiece.  The excitement a Mormon missionary feels at a training conference might be the same felt by people at a political pep rally.  By usurping what are simply common human experiences and declaring them confirmatory of Mormonism's foundational claims, the church is in a position where it can't lose.  At least, so long as the member doesn't critically examine the entire epistemological framework being presented.

Mormons place paramount importance on these "spiritual" confirmations, which is why they are so heavily emphasized from such a young age (related lessons are taught in Sunday school classes beginning at 18 months).  Once Mormons believe that god has confirmed some event or proposition to be true (i.e. the Book of Mormon being a historical record), then that is the end of the discussion.  No amount of contrary facts or evidence will sway a Mormon who believes god himself has confirmed some truth to her.  As long as Mormons believe this epistemological framework is valid, they will dismiss contrary evidence through any number of rationalizations with which they have been equipped (e.g. “That issue isn’t necessary for my salvation.”  “We’ll have answers after this life.”  “God works through imperfect instruments.” “God’s thoughts are not our thoughts.”  Etc.).  Mormons follow a simple, illogical progression: “If the Book of Mormon is true, then Joseph Smith was a prophet, and everything else he ever did/said was of God.”  Typically, this flawed epistemology will have to break down in a Mormon’s eyes before she begins to recognize just how absurd many of her beliefs actually are.  This is why mere reference to the implausibility of certain positions will not always evoke the type of cognitive dissonance in a Mormon’s mind that would normally be expected.  Unfortunately, because of the insular nature of the Mormon church, and due to its tireless efforts at controlling the information available to its members, many Mormons do not ever have occasion to critically reflect on the validity of their beliefs.

I hope the foregoing has, to some extent, helped resolve your perplexity over how so many Mormons believe the crazy things they do.  If you’re ever curious to see for yourself how strongly the Mormons push this type of thinking on others, simply ask the Mormon missionaries how you can “know” whether what they’re telling you is true.  I can almost guarantee they will tell you something similar to what I’ve related above.

Thank you for all you do to champion science and reason throughout the world.  All the best.

Sincerely,

[Skeptical]

We will be our own saviors, if at all

Most religions believe in some sort of afterlife or continuation of a "soul" after death.  Apocalyptic religions are those that believe in some type of catastrophic "end times" event that culminates in a supernatural being coming in to right the wrongs and injustices in the world.  Jesus was an apocalyptic Jew.  Christians carried on this tradition, but made Jesus the apocalyptic savior that comes back and saves them while destroying the wicked.

I now see the folly in this way of thinking.  This goes along with an earlier post of mine regarding god (or godly thinking) being "lazy."  I think any religion that believes and advocates that a supernatural being is going to come in and rescue us, and solve all our problems (including death), is both harmful and counterproductive.  Adherents to such beliefs will feel less motivation to solve the myriad of problems and difficulties facing humanity.  After all, if Jesus is going to come back any day now, what's the point?  He'll institute a world governance that will address all problems, or maybe use his magic to cure them all directly.  Back in my believing days, whenever people preached about the dangers of man-made climate change, I largely dismissed them, thinking "It's okay, God isn't going to let things get that bad before Jesus comes back."  I really did think like that.  I'm confident that many believers feel similarly.

Believers in apocalyptic end times may even contribute, directly or indirectly, to the aggravation of the world's problems.  There are millions of Christians who would see silver lining in the detonation of a nuclear bomb by some rogue state or terrorist.  Openly they would acknowledge it as a tragedy, but privately, and perhaps in religious circles, they would whisper about the imminence of Jesus' second coming.  It happens after every catastrophic world event.  Many people thought the end was around the corner after the events of September 11, 2001--I know I did.  Even if apocalyptic believers don't directly contribute to the worsening of world problems, their very attitudes may indirectly serve to enable and propagate them.  If billions of people around the world believe that the last apocalyptic battle will be fought in Jerusalem, should we be surprised that there is so much conflict there?  Establishing Israel as an independent state after WWII was, in part, a result of this apocalyptic Christian belief.  Thus, we have Christians striving to self-fulfill calamitous "prophecy," and people suffer and die because of it.

The problem of death is easily the biggest one that religion seeks to solve.  Religion assures us that this life is not all there is, that we will continue to exist even after all our organs fail.  Naturally, I can see why this message is attractive.  Most of us cherish life and do not want it to end.  This belief brings us peace and the assurance that we will see our loved ones that have predeceased us.  During the many thousands of years of human civilization, this belief has been useful in inspiring people to do many things they might not otherwise do.  But in this day and age, with the technologies we have, and the extent to which we have already prolonged human life, I think it's time for this belief to be discarded.

The reality is that if anyone is going to save humanity from its problems (again, including death), it's humans.  We will be our own saviors, if at all.  In the beginning, mankind created god in its own image; and in the end, mankind will transcend itself and become "god," provided it doesn't destroy itself in the process.  Humanity faces many problems and existential threats.  We are capable of destroying ourselves and virtually all life on the planet in an alarmingly short amount of time.  Our development of biotechnology and nanotechnology enables us to create and innovate even more ways of self-destruction.  There is also the possibility (however remote) that we get hit by a large asteroid and experience another mass-extinction event, like the dinosaurs.  If we do not reverse or dramatically reduce our carbon footprint, we risk destroying our environment.  We have to face these problems head on.  We created most of these problems, and we alone will be responsible for fixing and/or avoiding them.

This perspective is, admittedly, frightening at first.  But that is often the case with reality.  After the initial fright and discomfort subsides, I find this perspective very empowering.  Such a paradigm shift would constitute what psychologists call an internalization of one's locus of control (typically seen as a good thing).  I look around me at all the amazing things we are innovating and creating.  I am convinced that it is within our ability to solve climate change, eliminate hunger and poverty, dramatically prolong human life (perhaps even to the point of achieving some form of immortality), and achieve world peace.  None of the solutions are necessarily simple, but they are within our reach, and it is up to us--and only us--to realize them.  This means that we have to turn our focus away from the imaginary savior in the skies and inward, on ourselves.  We have to become responsible and accountable.  No one is going to bail us out.  No one will save us but ourselves.

Real Hopes, Real Fears

My desertion of religious faith was, at first, bittersweet.  As I've expressed before, I initially mourned the loss of hope for immortality and eternal life with a heavenly father and my family.  On the other hand, with welcome relief I let go of fears of coming under godly condemnation and possibly being separated from my family forever.

Now I look back on my old religious hopes and fears with some embarrassment.  They were all illusory.  My fears were taught to me.  I feared gays and their diabolical "agenda."  I feared "worldly" pleasures and the misery they would undoubtedly bring to my life.  I feared the calamities incident to the imminent second coming of Jesus.  I feared going to Mormon hell.  So many useless fears.  I might as well have wasted time fearing the monster under my bed or the bogeyman in my closet.  My religious hopes were similarly silly.  As a kid I would actually sit around and daydream about the types of worlds I would create once I became a god.  I read a lot of science fiction and fantasy books, so I had quite the imagination.  Little did I realize that being a god in Mormon thought means being pretty much like our god and just implementing a silly plan that requires a savior and damnation for a large chunk of your offspring, over and over, for all eternity.  No thanks.

Nowadays I feel like my hopes and fears are much more material.  I fear the following (in no particular order): man-made environmental ruin, nuclear holocaust, biological warfare, death, human extinction, etc.  As a believer, I didn't worry about any of these, because I believed that no matter how bad things got, God would never allow humans to annihilate themselves, and death was no big deal because hey, resurrection and immortality for all, right?  Now that I no longer cling to such beliefs, the dangers in the world become much more salient.  While I recognize that global violence is actually at its lowest levels in recorded history, I also acknowledge that our self-destructive abilities are great than they've ever been.  We literally have the ability to wipe out virtually all human life on the planet overnight.  And there isn't any deity that would step in to intervene.  That would be the end of humanity.

On the other hand, my hopes are now much more real, as well.  I have genuine hope that despite the dangers, perils, and threats that we face (mostly self-made), we will innovate new and better ways to deal with our problems.  Technology and modern science are two-edged swords, but I think the progress they have generated is undeniable.  I believe that someday we will figure out a way to cure most, if not all, of our biological problems.  I think reversal of aging will become commonplace someday.  I think we will be able to achieve de facto immortality--perhaps not in my lifetime, but at some point in the future.  There are companies now that offer cryogenic services where for a fee, you can have your brain or body frozen in liquid nitrogen in an effort to preserve you until a time in the (perhaps distant) future when science will have come up with a way to resuscitate bodies and prolong life.  I'm seriously considering it myself (my brain, at least), as I think it's worth the risk/cost.  (Besides, worst case scenario is that it doesn't work, and I'm dead anyway.)  Some might call that crazy; I call it covering all my bases, because I'm certainly not going to count on the existence of a soul and life after death as described by the religious.

Have I Rediscovered Religion?

No, not really.  It's actually much better than that.  Lately I've been listening to the audio book version of "The Singularity is Near" by Ray Kurzweil.  It talks about an imminent "singularity," which is defined as the point at which the rate of technological progress becomes so great, we won't be able to follow it unaided and the results may be totally unpredictable.  An example would be the creation of an artificial superintelligence which improves upon its design in very quick successive generations.

The author of the book thinks this point is relatively near.  He thinks it will happen by the middle of this century.  He talks about the exponential rate of growth in technology that has happened in recent centuries and in particular the last 50 years.  He claims that we are very close to developing biotechnology that could halt--or even reverse--the aging process.  Mr. Kurzweil himself takes an enormous amount of supplements which he says has greatly slowed his personal aging process.  At 56, he claims he was given the biological age of 40, for instance.  He also describes efforts to reverse-engineer the brain.  This is apparently very important if we are to develop full immersion virtual realities, which he believed (in 2004) would happen in this decade.  He asserts that nanotechnology will radically change our mode of existence, particularly when we are able to develop billions and trillions of self-replicating nanobots to perform specific functions in our bodies.

He makes a lot of other predictions.  I don't know how realistic his timeline of anticipated developments is, but his conviction is palpable.  For the first time since abandoning religious faith, I'm starting to feel a "hope" in something greater.  This time, however, my "hope" is based on a methodology that has a great track record for producing tangible, useful results--i.e., science.  I find it beautifully ironic that science, arguably religion's greatest nemesis, may be the tool that ultimately realizes religion's main promise: immortality.  Most religions provide for some kind of rationalization of death, whether by the continuation of the soul, reincarnation, resurrection, etc.  The problem is that they offer no mechanism by which it happens other than "magic" of some sort.  Science, on the other hand, has already proven itself by greatly extending life expectancies all over the developed world.  It continues to do so.  It not only prolongs our lives, but makes them less painful and more enjoyable.  In just a century we went from horse and buggy to automobiles and planes.  Cars can already drive themselves to a limited extent, and that technology will simply improve in the future.  There are also mechanisms in place and being developed that allow us to control robotic arms with brain signals.  There are so many things happening right now; the change and development is very exciting.

In the Mormon church, I was constantly reminded that we live in an exciting time--the last days before the coming of our Lord!  Of course, they (meaning all of Christianity) have been saying that for the past 2,000 years, so I'm not waiting by the phone.  But now I think we have very good reason to believe that we're living in the most important episode of human evolution.  We evolved biologically for millions of years before modern humans emerged some 100,000 years ago.  With the development of agriculture around 12,000 years ago, technological development could commence, and now in that short time span, we stand on the precipice of something big.  This is our defining moment: either we will transcend our current mode of existence in some way, or we will destroy ourselves in the process--because it is all too clear that technological development has never been without potential perils and side effects.  I feel confident, however, that we will overcome the challenges in front of us and realize our true potential.