his dark materials

Just before Thanksgiving, I finished reading the children's fantasy trilogy called His Dark Materials. The three books are called The Golden Compass (now a movie), The Subtle Knife, and The Amber Spyglass. I simply adored these books, and highly recommend them, for adults as well as kids. I am a big Harry Potter fan, but I liked these books more than Harry Potter. For me, who waited in lines at midnight to get book 7 and to watch movie 5, this is saying something. (No, I did not dress up.) Maybe I'll share my ideas on Rowling, death, and agnosticism later, but right now, I want to gush about The Amber Spyglass.

I don't want to give too much away for anyone who wants to read these books for themselves, but I will say this. One of the main plots involved killing god. That idea hit me like lightning. I've heard Nietzsche's ideas on god being dead, and I've written before about how I felt like I killed Heavenly Father when I left Mormonism. At the time, I grieved about that symbolic death of a mythical figure. But when I came across the idea in these books, it thrilled me. I couldn't wait to see how it played out.

The books also deal with souls, death, evolution, friendship, love, the fall, sexuality and original sin, the institutional church, church-leaving, deceit, character. The Church is a bad element; childhood innocence as well as maturity and sexual awareness are celebrated; the heroes and heroines are multi-faceted and capable of both "good" and "bad."

These are some of my favorite bits at the end of The Amber Spyglass:


"'The Christian religion is a very powerful and convincing mistake, that's all.'" (Mary, p. 441)


"'Was it hard to leave the church?' said Will.

'In one way it was,[' answered Mary, ']because everyone was so disappointed. Everyone, from the Mother Superior to the priests to my parents--they were so upset and reproachful...I felt as if something they all passionately believed in depended on me carrying on with something I didn't.

'But in another way it was easy, because it made sense. For the first time ever I felt I was doing something with all of my nature and not only a part of it. So it was lonely for a while, but then I got used to it.'" (p. 446)


"'When you stopped believing in God,' he went on, 'did you stop believing in good and evil?'

'No, but I stopped believing there was a power of good and a power of evil that were outside us. And I came to believe that good and evil are names from what people do, not for what they are. All we can say is that this is a good deed, because it helps someone, or that's an evil one, because it hurts them. People are too complicated to have simple labels.'

'Yes,' said Lyra firmly.

'Did you miss God?' asked Will.

'Yes,' said Mary, 'terribly. And I still do. And what I miss most is the sense of being connected to the whole of the universe. I used to feel I was connected to God like that, and because he was there, I was connected to the whole of his creation. But if he's not there, then...'" (p. 447)


"That was the meaning of this night, and it was Mary's meaning, too.

Had she thought there was no meaning in life, no purpose, when God had gone? Yes, she had thought that.

'Well, there is now,' she said aloud, and again, louder, 'There is now!'" (p. 452)


"'She [an angel, Xaphania] said that all the history of human life has been a struggle between wisdom and stupidity. She and the rebel angels, the followers of wisdom, have always tried to open minds; the Authority and his churches have always tried to keep them closed....And for the most part, wisdom has had to work in secret, whispering her words, moving like a spy through the humble places of the world while the courts and palaces are occupied by her enemies.'" (p. 479)

(Thank you to hotmomama and her kids for recommending these books to me.)

seminary

Time-release seminary. Junior year. Was it second period? Or fourth? (Eat your heart out, all you who had to endure early-morning seminary.) I even remember the teacher's name. He had a reputation for saying different things. We would qualify things he said behind his back with "The Gospel according to Brother P----."

He had these object lessons that he gave year after year.

In one of them, he circled a power cord, one of those big orange ones, on the floor to make an area big enough for one person to stand or sit in. He then asked one of the students to stand in it. Some boy volunteered. He then instructed the boy to promise not to step over it, or break it. He promised. Then the teacher offered a donut if he could get out of that circle without stepping over it or breaking it. The boy couldn't think of a way. He then offered all the money in his wallet, several bills, if he could do it. The boy could not.

My scheming mind, though, set to work as if it were a logic problem. According to his words, I couldn't step over the cord or break it. But he never said anything about touching it, did he? I figured I could lift the cord, and get out of the circle by stepping under it. That was definitely not restricted by the promise.

I mentioned it to the class, the teacher waved me off. That was not the point. The point was the promise. One year, he said, a kid stepped right out of that circle and grabbed the money. The Spirit immediately left the room, the teacher warned us.

He then explained what the lesson was about. It was based on BYU founder Karl Maeser's chalk line quote, the one displayed all over BYU campus. But I didn't know that at the time.

"I have been asked what I mean by 'word of honor.' I will tell you. Place me behind prison walls — walls of stone ever so high, ever so thick, reaching ever so far into ground — there is a possibility that in some way or another I may be able to escape; but stand me on the floor and draw a chalk line around me and have me give my word of honor never to cross it. Can I get out of that circle? No, never. I'd die first.”

So it was about keeping your word, and here I was taking it apart like a logic challenge. I wondered about my faith that day. I thought I'd done something wrong in approaching it as I did. Indicative of my future path, perhaps?

I'm glad now I did take the whole thing apart, and step under that cord, so to speak, with the help of logic.

two things

First, go check out the Carnival of the Veil, a biweekly collection of posts from Outer blogness. If you want to be added to the carnival (any post, any subject, as long as you're exmo), let Gunner know. It's a great way to get to know other bloggers and let others know you are there.

...........

Second, Zarathustra alerted me to a great quote by Nietzsche:

"The individual has always had to struggle to keep from being overwhelmed by the tribe.
If you try it, you will be lonely often, and sometimes frightened. But no price is too
high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself."

I have got to start reading Nietzsche. I get the feeling I'll like some of his ideas.

timetable of disbelieving and leaving

Common misconceptions about how Mormons leave the church prevail.

The youngest Mormon apostle, Bednar, said in a recent General Conference talk that the common theme he encounters in "less actives" is being offended. He said of his visits to "less active" members, "Many other causes of offense were cited—from doctrinal differences among adults to taunting, teasing, and excluding by youth. But the recurring theme was: "I was offended by . . . " At least he acknowledges that there are "doctrinal differences," but he categorizes that as being offended. He asserts that being offended is the main reason people leave, and asks them to just stop being offended.

I've seen other people take this a step further and claim that first we are offended, then we dig up all the dirt we can on Joseph Smith to support our wounded egos. For example, during a debate between believers and non-believers over here, someone, adopting the pseudonym of a non-believer in the debate, wrote, "I really have nothing good to say. I'm just grinding my bitter ax because I was once offended by the Mormon church and I have distanced myself from it. Therefore I find every bit of anti-Mormon literature, believe every word, and tell all the Mormons how stupid they are for believing this stuff because some guy wrote in some book somewhere that some weird thin[g] that makes Mormons look bad is true." The stereotype comes out well in this comment. He claims that the disaffected Mormon was 1) offended, 2) distanced himself, 3) found "anti-Mormon" literature that made "Mormons look bad," 4) believed every word, and now 5) talks trash about and to Mormons because he's bitter about it all. Huh?!?!

Sunday school classes contribute to the misconceptions. Classes I've been in supported the view that failing to go to church, read scriptures, prayer daily, etc., result in "loss of testimony," i.e. not believing. And, of course, "sinning" is a big way people stop believing, according to the church. They start drinking, smoking, having sex, and suddenly (or slowly, depending on who you ask), they can't feel the Spirit anymore, and their testimonies are gone. Poof. The Holy Ghost just can't negotiate through the clouds of cigar smoke, the dirty shot glasses, and the poker chips in the living room.

To be continued...

Mormon marriage, Mormon divorce

I've been thinking lately about the fact that many Mormon marriages end when one spouse reveals (s)he doesn't believe anymore. Why is this so? The quick answer is , I think, the emphasis on eternal marriage and the necessity of marriage to attain the Celestial Kingdom (CK), the highest degree of heaven for Mormons. Too many people--probably more women--think, "If he doesn't believe, if he isn't righteous, he can't take me to the Celestial Kingdom. Therefore, I might as well get divorced and find a man who is worthy."

There are gender biases in this that probably cause more women to bail on "unfaithful" men than men to bail on women. Basically, while the doctrine says "neither is the man without the woman or the woman without the man," really, people feel that a man can make it to the CK without his wife (and then marry some more of them). A woman has a much harder time getting there without her husband, particularly because she won't have a conduit to the priesthood in her "unworthy" husband (not matter how wonderful a person, husband, and father he may be).

Need I express how disgusting and tragic I find this? One of the smartest things I ever did in my life was to accept what my husband was telling me--"I'm not sure I'll always believe"--and give him credit that he was, in fact, a smart, caring person, and think, "There must be something to what he's saying."

Is that to say it didn't freak me out? No. Of course it freaked me out. I had my cultural conditioning; my initial reaction was one of absolute fear and panic. The thought ran through my mind: What about the Celestial Kingdom? I pushed it out of my mind, and thought of us instead. Over the next couple months, as both of us made our final break from the church, we reworked our relationship at the same time. My husband expressed to me that our relationship--not the Lord, as I had been raised to feel--was the most important thing to him. More important, in fact, than it had been when we believed in eternal marriage.

In the light of these ideas, I drummed up some conference talks to try to find any gems the Brethren might have given the church to support the idea that in/out couples should get divorced (or not). Most talks on marriage gave some practical advice on improving marriage (communicate, go on a date, make the other one your first priority, etc.), including living righteously, praying daily, having faith, making Christ the center of your marriage, etc.

I didn't find what I was looking for--a talk explicitly on divorcing an apostate spouse--but there were references to sin, unfaithfulness, etc. being destroyers of marriage. The man that talked the most about marriage and divorce, as I could tell through my less-than-comprehensive search, was Spencer W. Kimball (president of the church from 1973-1985). He was unequivocal about in/out marriages: don't do it.

Here are some quotes from two of his talks (emphases mine):

"To be really happy in marriage, one must have a continued faithful observance of the commandments of the Lord. No one, single or married, was ever sublimely happy unless he was righteous. There are temporary satisfactions and camouflaged situations for the moment, but permanent, total happiness can come only through cleanliness and worthiness. One who has a pattern of religious life with deep religious convictions can never be happy in an inactive life. The conscience will continue to afflict, unless it has been seared, in which case the marriage is already in jeopardy. A stinging conscience can make life most unbearable. Inactivity is destructive to marriage, especially where the parties are inactive in varying degrees.

"Religious differences are the most trying and among the most unsolvable of all differences.

"Marriage is ordained of God. It is not merely a social custom. Without proper and successful marriage, one will never be exalted. Read the words of your Lord, that it is right and proper to be married.

"That being true, the thoughtful and intelligent Latter-day Saint will plan his life carefully to be sure there are no impediments placed in the way. By making one serious mistake, one may place in the way obstacles which may never be removed and which may block the way to eternal life and godhood—our ultimate destiny. If two people love the Lord more than their own lives and then love each other more than their own lives, working together in total harmony with the gospel program as their basic structure, they are sure to have this great happiness.”

Spencer W. Kimball, “Oneness in Marriage,” Ensign, Mar. 1977, 3

“I have warned the youth against the many hazards of interfaith marriage, and with all the power I possessed, I warned young people to avoid the sorrows and disillusionments which come from marrying out of the Church and the unhappy situations which almost invariably result when a believer marries an unbelieving spouse. I pointed out the demands of the Church upon its members in time, energy, and funds; the deepness of the spiritual ties which tighten after marriage and as the family comes; the antagonisms which naturally follow such mismating; the fact that these and many other reasons argue eloquently for marriage within the Church, where husband and wife have common backgrounds, common ideals and standards, common beliefs, hopes, and objectives, and, above all, where marriage may be eternalized through righteous entry into the holy temple.”

“We are grateful that this one survey reveals that about 90 percent of the temple marriages hold fast. Because of this, we recommend that people marry those who are of the same racial [!?!?! Happy Birthday, MLK, Jr] background generally, and of somewhat the same economic and social and educational background (some of those are not an absolute necessity, but preferred), and above all, the same religious background, without question. In spite of the most favorable matings, the evil one still takes a monumental toll and is the cause for many broken homes and frustrated lives.”

from Marriage and Divorce, Spencer W Kimball

For what it's worth, Hinckley made a statement that could be used to reverse Kimball's earlier statements. Hinckley tried to encourage women married to non-Mormon spouses. It was, though, in the hopes that those spouses will eventually convert.

"Support, sustain, uphold, and bless your husbands with your love and your encouragement, and the Lord will bless you. Even if they are not members of the Church, bless them with kindness and reach out to them every good way that you can. The chances are that they will become members of the Church before they reach the time they die. It may be a long time and you may have a lot to put up with, but if that happens, you will think it is all worth it."

— From Church News. member meeting, Philadelphia Pa., Oct. 25, 2002

I have one friend who, when her husband explained he didn't believe, found this scripture to support her staying with him:

1 Cor. 7: 13 And the woman which hath an husband that believeth not, and if he be pleased to dwell with her, let her not leave him.