"There is a risk involved, but in the present circumstances I believe it is a risk worth running. I do not believe we have managed to revitalize the world we live in, and I do not believe it is worth the trouble of clinging to; but I do propose something to get us out of our marasmus, instead of continuing to complain about it, and about the boredom, inertia, and stupidity of everything." -- Antonin Artaud

Sunday, September 4, 2011

Don't Think Twice, It's All Right

So I have had this Bob Dylan song stuck in my head for over a week now. I figure since it's present with me as I've thought about what I want to write this week, why not make it available for you to listen to while you read this entry. Enjoy:




Classes started this week . . . well, a class started this week. I'm taking four but three of them are on Monday and Tuesday and since classes didn't begin until Wednesday I've only attended one class so far. There's been some other things I did this week: purchased a printer, figured out issues with my fellowship, went to institute and a theatre grad student party in the same night, accepted an invitation to go to a book club, started reading homework. All in all a nice mix of socializing and pre-semester studying. I also finished the last season of Mad Men on Netflix and started watching Downton Abbey.

If it is ever suggested on NPR's Pop Culture Happy Hour Podcast, I'm gonna watch it.

But the main activity recurring throughout this week that I feel impressed to write about right now was my experiences with a concerted effort to participate in an engaging scripture study. I find that now that I don't teach Sunday School, the focus of my efforts dissipated. I figured, for now, I would forget that I was released and I studied the lessons for Sunday School and Priesthood lessons as though I were to teach them. I didn't make lesson plans, but I read the information as if I were going to. The lesson for Sunday School is supposed to be on the first six chapters of 1st Corinthians. In addition to reading those chapters, I looked for further information in the institute manual on the New Testament. Then as the week went on I branched out and decided I might try my hand at preparing for future institute classes. Since Wednesday evening classes will soon switch to a study of the Old Testament, I decided to read the first chapter of the Institute student manual for the Old Testament.

Here's what I learned: I love reading and thinking about what we have as Paul's writings; I cannot stand reading institute manuals.

I wish I could convey my disdain articulately, but honestly I tried not to write them down. What I remember is every time I read them, I found myself disagreeing with what was published, felt annoyed with the sentiment, and wondered constantly if I should keep reading. Then I would go back to read Paul's epistle and there was just a very different interaction. I pondered. I reflected. I asked myself introspective questions.

Honestly, what I think bothers me about the Institute manuals rests in a topic I always tend to reflect on, but one which came specifically into focus since it is in part connected to an issue ostensibly raised in Paul's letter to the Corinthians: anti-intellectualism. In the epistle, Paul addresses the saints' social and doctrinal problems. They were not unified in their beliefs or their conduct. The lack of unity stemmed not only from immorality, but also disparate interpretations of the gospel. Paul points to the saints claiming that their beliefs were supported by different apostles; however, he spends quite a bit of time reflecting on knowing things by the spirit rather than learning.

As someone who self-identifies as an "intellectual," I found it interesting how my interaction with Paul's text differed so greatly from my interaction with what I was reading from LDS publications that commented on Paul's text. The former I engaged with; the latter I rejected. I think it's because I take issue with an interpretation of Paul's writings to support what I perceive as an anti-intellectual sentiment and epistemology.

I do not think that people in the Church are dumb; nor do I think that there are not intellectuals in the church or that the church is a space where intellectuals cannot reside. But I'll confess that I am concerned that in response to what I consider legitimate claims and questions posed by intellectuals from many different fields, be they scientific or philosophical, that the LDS culture (for the most part) has fostered and developed a fairly embedded anti-intellectual rhetoric that denounces the validity or purpose of questions raised rather than actually considering them. And I find that wanting.

I had a friend once who described a frustration at having his questions met with the response, "Well, is knowing that pertinent to your salvation? . . . If not, then why does it matter?" The answer may be "No. Knowing may in no way effect my salvation," but there is something highly troubling to me about shutting off the dialogue without even trying to explore the ideas.

I find CES manuals that I would like to learn from lacking the type of spiritual depth that I find in Paul's writings. Perhaps it's very reductive to assume, but I really do chalk it up to correlation. I don't turn to the manuals and expect academic articles; I don't hold them to that standard. But I do expect works that open the possibility to thought, revelation, edification. Instead, they seem very fixated on streamlining--on unifying by boxing in interpretations, delimiting them to fit a preexisting mold. And when that discussion just simply is not a correct interpretation and is presented as though it is, well that's just more unsettling.

For example, to evidence that last point, 1st Corinthians 3 and 6 both have references to bodies and temples. Neither of these scriptures have anything to do with living a temperate lifestyle as outlined by the Word of Wisdom or more recent interpretations and amendments to that revelation. Yet that is all that the church publishes on them. This troubling for at least two reasons. First, it's just wrong and sloppy; revealing that the writers are not reading the scriptures. (Which tends to be a bit hypocritical when a lot of Mormons [at least in the missionary culture I remember] like to presume that people outside of the church might know bible verses but don't read them in context and so do not understand their true meaning). Second, and more importantly, it totally eclipses Paul's very salient points about unity and community. There's an extended metaphor in 1st Corinthians 3 that is so eloquent that is completely glossed over in order to privilege a really reductive and didactic reappropriation of the scriptures.

I don't have a problem with the reappropriation, it's that it has become the only way we read and discuss the scripture. It's not that I find the principles or the beliefs of my faith stagnant or dull. However, for me, our cultural treatment and interaction with the scriptures certainly tends to be. Furthermore, it's a bit frustrating to participate in a community that harbors animosity towards your identity and profession. The ironic thing is that Paul was far from lacking education.

And as I think about it, these are two connected but somewhat different ideas: my issues with correlation and the anti-intellectual rhetoric in the church. And I haven't really touched as much on the latter. It's just weird that we have such an expressed admiration for education and people who are intelligent. I definitely do not feel ostracized for being smart; I know it's something people in the Church always expressed admiration for. Yet at the same time, there exists a resilient rhetoric that does not simply disagree with science and philosophy, but demonizes higher learning--making the acquisition of knowledge itself an Original Sin or great temptation. High reason and great sophistry can certainly be used to attack belief, but so can ignorance and misinformation. We address the latter with learning, literacy, and diligence of thought and teaching. Why should we treat the former any differently?