Saturday, July 30, 2011

Discourse and Tension: Why I need Mike like Batman needs the Joker

There’s a fantastic little movie from the late 90’s called Mystery Men, featuring a ragtag band of second (or maybe even third) rate superheroes.  The motivating plot piece is the first rate superhero, Captain Amazing, who locks up his arch-nemesis, Casanova Frankenstein, and now finds himself… irrelevant.

So, he springs him from prison.  After all, what’s a superhero without a supervillain?

The archetypal enemy motif is embedded deep in the soul of Christianity.  Good vs. evil.  Christ vs. Satan.  The mythological standoff of enemies helps you define your existence.

As an apostate, I have a complicated relationship with the faithful.  This is especially true with the faithful who are willing, want even, to engage.  Let’s hypothetically embody the faithful into one symbolic person, and let’s call him Mike.

First of all, I’m not sure who is attacking and who is defending.  Do I want to attack Mike?  Does he want to attack me?  Am I defending my choices or decrying his?  Because his choices used to be mine, I feel… advanced.  But he is sure of himself.  I don’t feel remiss in saying that he hopes to help me find a spark of my former feelings; to help me remember it.  He wants to rescue the lost sheep; bring me back to the fold.

What do I want?  If I am honest with myself, there are primal moments when I really hope to see his testimony vaporize like mine did.  This is not simply spite.  This is not a malevolent desire to drag people down.  Quite the opposite; I am happy to be where I am, and would be glad to help people see the light. 

And there’s some spite.

And (more) there’s a desire for validation; a desire to have someone say, “Oh, I get it.” 

Do I really want that?  Mike LOVES the Church.  He doesn’t love it mildly.  Mike is passionately involved in the work.  He sees himself as a soldier in the Lord’s army, and he relishes it.  Somehow, I guess it works for him.

So, if I was the cause of taking that away, I don’t know that I would feel any glory in the victory.  What would I gain?  Nothing.  An empty cup.

However, we still engage.  It’s not like I’m pursuing him.  He baits me.  He wants to engage.  He wants the tension and the discourse, and so do I.

In the engagement I have the chance to seriously examine my position; I can look for the places where I don’t have a good answer.  I can look for the chinks.

We engage in a battle that, for me, contains an additional layer of conflict (I don’t think the same is true for him.  He would be exultant to “win” me back). 

I think I have a different view of the stakes.  I see us fighting with real weapons, and see that there is a real possibility of delivering a mortal blow to his vision of life.  He thinks there’s no way that could happen.  In a conversation (fraught with tension) with my bishopric, one of the counselors told me confidently, “We can handle it.”

All I could say in return, “I thought I could, too.” 

I engage in mortal combat, in a fight I don’t really want to win, with a person who is ignorant of the danger of the weapons in hand. (Is that arrogance?  I don’t want it to be, but would be willing to concede that it may be.)

Nevertheless, I engage with no quarter.  And when the battle is on, all of this nice perspective I have right now, goes right out the window, and then, I want blood; then I want concession, and defeat; then I want the moment of painful realization. 

I like Mike in spite of myself.  We share a culture that I no longer embrace.  I spend my time picking it apart, examining it under a microscope.  I like Mike because he is sincere.  I like him because he is willing to stand up.  I like him because he is willing to engage.  And ironically, I worry about him.

I got lucky.  Unlike many apostates, I didn’t get a divorce.  I’m willing to engage, but worry about the consequences.

I’m conflicted in my conflict.

I guess that’s just the way it is. 

4 comments:

  1. Really enjoyed this, especially this line: "I engage in mortal combat, in a fight I don’t really want to win, with a person who is ignorant of the danger of the weapons in hand."

    I don't know if I relate to this thirst for conflict, but I do see conflict as inevitable when you get people with differing approaches to a culturally powerful system with very high investments. I want to model and teach as healthy and beneficial an approach to religion/Mormonism as possible, tailoring that approach to individual needs. Like you I do not want to unproductively shatter a system that works for people.... but I want to be a resource for them when the problems start mounting.

    And I loved all the illustrations you included. :)

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  2. Doesn't that feel amazing?

    It felt amazing for me.

    Was that amazing for anyone else?

    Oh... time to open a window.

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  3. Beautiful post.

    I am fully with you. Fighting between desire for conflict and the desire to protect those I see as... how to put it... not fully aware of how precarious their position is, how harmful it is, or how beneficial it would be to abandon and yet oddly (and familiarly) affirming and benefiting.

    It would take a re-iteration of your post to describe my own thoughts and feeling on the matter.

    Also, I imagine that my internal conflict will continue for at least as long as there are people close to me (in one way or another) who are not aware of my own apostate nature.

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  4. @Jared - As we explore these ideas I am aware that the picture I'm trying to paint is inadequate to describe reality. I was worried with this post that I was overstating a "need for conflict" as you say.

    I typically claim that I don't seek confrontation, but am not afraid of it either.

    On the other hand, I do seek discourse. I think best when I'm engaged in a discussion. And I desperately want to think better about my faith (and lack thereof), culture, and the relationships that make all of this so much more complicated.

    But the narrow focus that falls on me in the middle of a discussion (on any topic) is... a little scary. If I let that focus take over, all other considerations fall away completely. The only thing that matters is the parry and thrust of ideas, and I indulge myself gleefully... [sigh]

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