Tossed About With Every Wind of Doctrine

For most of the last two months I’ve been having a fairly constant email dialogue with an extremely intelligent, sort of apologetic, faithful Mormon guy.  We’ve talked about apologetics, morality, theism, epistemology, and a little bit of everything in between.  At times the conversation has gotten… tense; more than a little snappy.  I won’t claim it’s all him, and I doubt it’s all me… sometimes it’s just hard to stay totally dispassionate when we feel passionate. 

I sent him a message that was... a little less on the gracious side recently.  As a way of trying to reach out an olive branch I said this:

Concession:  It occurred to me early this morning that my thesis is understandably threatening to you because it appears you are a) actually a true believer, b) clearly invested in your new theory that you shared with me, and apparently if I am right then it messes it up, and c) operating under the demonstrably false doctrine that trees only bear one kind of fruit, and therefore all good must be treasured up and all bad must be apologetically explained away.

Now, in the spirit of self-deprecation, occasionally I have a flash of insight and realize that my olive branches are sometimes shaped more like baseball bats.  In his remarkably gracious response, he had this to say to my little quip:

As for the "concession" that you made that boiled down to essentially telling me that I'm brainwashed and unable to think straight because I'm emotionally invested and that I will always insist that my tree (religion in this case, not specifically Mormonism) must "bear one kind of fruit, and therefore all good must be treasured up and all bad must be apologetically explained away."

I plead guilty as charged. Completely guilty.

I just believe you're equally guilty, that's all. I wish you could see that.

Ouch.

Let’s clear one thing up immediately:  I’m not going to talk about the false doctrine of trees and fruits.  I don’t really feel like I need to.  When compared with the contradicting doctrine of the universal imperfection of man, the fruit doctrine is obviously the one that needs to go.  In my personal epistemology, when black and white clashes with complexity, complexity wins.  

But am I equally guilty?  I certainly like to think that I am not.  But humans are notoriously self-deceiving.  So... 

Here’s where I think he’s right:  I am just as susceptible to self-deception as anyone else.

Here’s where I think he’s wrong:  I am not particularly interested in defending my “cause” at all costs.

This reminds me of two scriptures, which rather neatly package up my apostasy as well.

Ephesians 4:14 Then we will no longer be little children, tossed like waves and blown about by every wind of doctrine, by people's trickery, or by clever strategies that would lead us astray.

Ether 12:4 Wherefore, whoso believeth in God might with surety hope for a better world, yea, even a place at the right hand of God, which hope cometh of faith, maketh an anchor to the souls of men, which would make them sure and steadfast, always abounding in good works, being led to glorify God.

Guilty?  Yes.  Absolutely.

I definitely feel tossed about frequently.  Am I steadfast and immovable?  No, I’m pretty movable.  

In short, although I understand the thought process behind these scriptures (and I suppose behind the practice and art of apologetics) I don’t personally agree with them. (And you all thought my self-labeling as an apostate was for dramatic effect… Silly people.)

I change my position ALL THE TIME.  Chronically.  All it takes for me to change my opinion is a really good argument. 

Alright, that sounds compelling.  Let’s go with that.  Then I read a strong rebuttal and have to admit that I like that as well. 

Does this make me right?  No.  It almost always makes me wrong.

Does being steadfast and immovable make someone right?  No.  It usually makes them wrong, too.

Then what’s the point?

That’s a tricky question.  Maybe it’s just what you value more.  I tend to be a very black and white thinker (a deficiency of which I am completely aware and constantly trying to fight against).  When I was a teenager, I remember trying to think through the objective of being right.

(Ok, take a deep breath and hang in there for the next 30 seconds.)

It seemed to me that everyone likes to be right, but that the only way you could be as (truly) right as possible was to not be concerned about appearing right.  So when you discovered you were wrong, you had to simply change your position.  My reasoning supposed that after you have been shown a better one there is nothing laudatory about defending a position you now know to be incorrect just because you previously thought it was correct.  It’s just stubborn.  It seemed that you just need to know that you will frequently be wrong, so change your mind quickly and often.

(This is not a good way to maintain a Mormon testimony, I eventually discovered.)

Would I describe myself as consistently malleable my whole life?  Hell no.  But, it's like Heber J. Grant said: That which we persist in doing becomes easier, not that the task itself has become easier, but that our ability to perform it has improved.  (BTW, that's actually Emerson... Grant was just borrowing it for a little while.) 

Am I as good at abandoning beliefs as I'd like to be?  No, not yet.  

As an important side note, my hero in this respect was Malcolm X.  When I read his autobiography as a teenager, I was blown away by his willingness to abandon his position in favor of a better one.  For that trait, he is one of my true heroes.

There are, of course, downsides to this.  You look kind of flighty, uncommitted, unsure.  Do you stand for something?  Yes, but it could change.  It’s hard to explain.  You may appear untrustworthy.  (It kind of gnaws at me that I'm still registered as a republican.)  

Example:

I recently discovered Sam Harris.  He is brilliant and appeals to my growing distrust of organized religions, in particular those that resemble MY religion.  Then I read recently an amazing article by Jonathan Haidt, defending the good of religion in very compelling ways.  Ok, I can go with that.  It’s a little painful, but what can you do?  Then I read the rebuttal by Harris.  Pretty much totally agree.  I’m a little nervous to read Haidt’s counter-counter; I’ll probably like it, too.

Am I a flake?  If you say so. 

What is the most influential book in my life?  The Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell, of course.  (For sheer daily applicability to life situations, The Tipping Point takes The Book of Mormon out to the woodshed.)

The Tipping Point is where I learned about context (and, of course, many other things).  Context changes everything.   For instance, did you know that no matter how strong your personal moral code, context is a greater determinant of your behavior? (Take that, phantom notion of free agency!)

Mormons talk about moral relativism as if we don’t believe in it, but we explicitly do.  We believe judgment is contextual.  What could be more relative than God judging you relative to your own experiences, knowledge, capacity, gifts, situation, etc? 

Context is the key to our not noticing essentially all of the contradictory doctrines of the Church.  We are trained to consider certain doctrines only in the appropriate context.  We know which doctrine is applicable at the moment and we supply the appropriate platitude.  Context is the key.

So… do I think I’m right?  Yes… until I change my mind.  Am I ok with that?  Yes.  Am I invested in my positions?  Not particularly.  Am I still subject to confirmation bias?  Absolutely, but I’m also aware and wary of that fact.

I don’t know.  It works for me.