Subversive.
I saw Enchanted this weekend and laughed, perhaps inordinately. I thought of Sarah's roommate, April, whose hair and singing voice conjure up a singular label: Disney Princess. She's young, she's in love, and she's perky as a sparrow. I think singing squirrels make her bed and dancing cockroaches clean her bathtub like a team of spindle-legged synchronized swimmers.
I went with Institute friends and had fun catching up with Jared, Clint, and Christina. Jared and I have known each other since middle school - we parrotted off old acquaintances with startling alacrity. I didn't even know I knew the people I still know. And somehow there was always more - a gush or slop of strangely forgotten memories here and there, nothing to link them all except the ubiquitous theme, "Oh yeah, I remember that... kind of."
We went for Cheesecake after. I ordered a tea that never came and took notes on one story I heard - hopeful it will provide fodder for an essay someday.
It was one guy, an avid Beatles fan and recent member of my "hey, I know your brother" club, who told a charming story about his little sister's birth. It was the worst day of his life.
Coming from a family that had previously housed a robust crowd of male-only children, he was devastated. He said it was literally the worst day of his life.
First, the young Ryan fell twice while attempting his escape from a would-be goat-faced killa (a cousin's pet goat, whose head-butting undoubtedly incurred immediate fatality, or so his 10-year-old brain assumed). Narrowly escaping death, he struggled to his feet and examined the damage. This tumble had bloodied and muddied up his "I Love Primary" shirt - a harsh blow, but not quite as harsh as his penance. He was forced to wear his girl-cousin's old hand-me-down polo.
Considering she was about ten at the time, it was probably a pretty androgynous fit, but the bullet nonetheless struck to kill. It was a girl shirt.
And so, amidst the brotherly bedeviling he faced after donning his feminine attire, his aunt's tittered announcement seemed almost fatal:
"Boys... your mother just gave birth to a beautiful...
baby girl."
He said his world simply stopped. Up to that point, he didn't even his mother could produce such a creature. A girl?
He said he felt that whatever deity that was watching his lowly life had forsaken him. It truly was the worst day of his life. Until he went to the hospital and saw how cute she was and how much everyone liked her. Since then he's rescinded his initial reaction.
Unfortunately, the "I Love Primary" shirt was never restored to him.
Perhaps there's some venue for a story like that - an LDS-geared fiction journal. Perhaps a BYU publication. Essays and short stories abound.
Speaking of,
lately I've been stalking this one article written by a somewhat abusive editorialist - an article that (quite controversially) was linked to MSN a few days ago. It was about Mitt Romney's decision to keep mum when asked about his Mormonism. The author essentially states we have a right to know more about Romney's practices and how devout he is. This, I think is reasonable - but his rationale was borderline intolerant. He argues we have a right to know more about Mitt's Mormonism only because Mormonism is so aberrantly false, and we need to know the extent of his devotion to a bunky religion because it reflects on his intelligence and sanity. He then rattles off a list of reasons why no intelligent, and indeed sane, person could believe in the religion. The author called Mormonism a cult and labeled Joseph Smith a proven fraud. He took some mild cheap shots - he even poked fun at Mormon garments in his final paragraph.
Granted, some readers filed this response under "angry, bitter atheist" editorial and shuffled along on their way. Apparently the author is a widely-known polemicist and religion-hater. (However, I don't think acknowledging the fact that you hate a certain group makes that hatred any more acceptable). But many stepped forward and said, "hear, hear" and even cited their own reasons Mormonism should be stamped out.
The article spawned a torrent of responses from Mormons and anti-Mormons alike. Some of them are very clever, but most of them simply argue that there are discrepancies between different accounts of Joseph Smith's life. It's absorbing to read and respond to the many opinions about this issue. But a lot of it is simply bizarre and hurtful. I'm more surprised at how people view us than I ever have been. It's been a little like listening in to a conversation I'm not supposed to hear. People say some truly hurtful things behind the anonymity of a computer alias. The Internet has widened a whole new genre of bigotry. Faceless, guiltless prejudice - people just tossing things out there to hurt and disprove.
Plainly, the chances of either camp converting the other are minimal. The religious will always have faith to overcome discrepancies between spirituality and secularism, and the atheists will always have facts abundant to tear down spirituality. There comes a point in every religious person's life where they confront these contradictions and they're forced to decide. You either believe the facts and forget the faith, or you get over it and believe what you think is right. Sometimes that means not having all the factual answers, just spiritual ones. Sometimes it means abandoning a personal crutch. But each has to make that choice personally.
This has forced me to ask a difficult question.
Is it ever appropriate to tell anyone their religion is false? And, importantly, that their religion has actually been proven false?
Then I think of the Robert Frost poem, Witch of Coos,
"SON: Mother can make a common table rear
And kick with two legs like an army mule.
MOTHER: And when I've done it, what good have I
done?"
When a child tosses a penny into a pond and makes a wish, do you slap the child upside the head and tell him wishes don't ever come true? Even if I'd never been granted a wish, even if I felt my life had been one giant unlucky joke - I'd tell that child to keep wishing. Why? Because that child is yearning for something better. That child longs for improvement of circumstances, that child recognizes the imperfections of reality and has hope that something he does will change them.
I suppose a wishing well story isn't a very accurate depiction of religion. This comparison reduces religion to mere superstition. (I don't know if it's true or not... I'll just pray and go to church just in case) That's not really what I mean. Instead, I mean religion gives many people a beautiful optimism and motivation to live life the best they can. It makes many try things they would not otherwise try, to hope for things they would otherwise not even dream for. Should that moving power, that tender sentiment be destroyed simply because someone else has never experienced it, and it therefore isn't real?
When you've done it, what good have you done?
I have a very gutting sense that I am misunderstood.
A word from the religious:
We don't claim everyone without religion lives immorally. The purpose of religion isn't to oppress or make others feel bad for not believing - the purpose of religion is to uplift and motivate people who believe in God to be more like Him. Personally, I believe (and hope others believe) in a benevolent, loving, intelligent God. A god of scientific genius - a god who wants people to take care of each other, a god who has inspired many people to pen a plethora of uplifting words. There are beautiful moral truths in the religious texts throughout the world. Most of them have many of the same messages - brotherly love, forgiveness, self-discipline. Some people abuse these texts to oppress others, and those figures undercut so much of the good that has been done by millions of quiet practicing religious folk.
There have been people who have similarly used science to oppress. Nazis felt they had found the true 'superior' race, white Americans thought they were superior to blacks, Englishman thought Irishmen were bumbling buffoons by virtue of their genetic make-up. These things likewise blight the reputation of scientists and atheists everywhere.
Both camps could fill volumes on each other with all the motives of different oppressors and tyrants throughout the ages, but these are simply side-roads forking away from collaborative progress.
Religious people and atheists could use to get along better. There are things we need to learn from each other. Religious people should pay attention to how science interacts with their faith - we can't afford to ignore and dismiss, or we won't grow. Atheists should be kind and treat religious folk like intelligent, self-instructed people - to respect each one as individuals instead of mindless drones following dangerous nonsense. I'm sure Mitt evades these religion questions because he sees himself getting lumped into an amorphous blob of "crazy Mormons"... instead of being judged as an individual with freedom of choice and personal judgment, like other candidates.
We do like our nonsense that we believe in - but that's because we believe it makes us better people, not because we want to pacify ourselves and ignore what our brains tell us. This is a challenge. It often takes much study and internal wrestling to discover answers, but we believe those answers are well worth the seeking. Many of those who accept religion work hard to reconcile spiritual and secular knowledge - it is a mind-opening, spiritually-enriching exercise for many.
Many of us have the proselyting bug in us, but that's not because we don't love and accept others, and it's not because we pity them in their non-religious states. We simply like the way religion can bring us closer to the people we want to be - and we want to share that feeling. We risk stepping on toes sometimes because it is such a tender experience.
The idea that the Book of Mormon comes from a dubious source is what many are really debating. Each camp will give reasons why one side is right and the other is wrong - it's the same argument sparred throughout the centuries. What needs to happen is for both sides to get over it. Like that argument you keep having with your husband since you were both in college - just give it up. There are things worth your time and energy, and debating these details aren't. Religio-cites, there will always be people who don't believe. Until Mohammed/Jesus/Gandalf returns (and in your case, Jews - when the Messiah comes for the first time...) there will be atheists. And atheists, even if you gave us a peer-reviewd journal article written by God Himself telling us He doesn't exist (even with properly cited sources), we'll keep on believing.
Why?
This is my take. I won't speak for all religious people, but I can tell you what I think.
To me, truth based on empirical data isn't truth if it doesn't agree with spiritual confirmation. This is something many atheists can't accept. And I can give you no reason to accept this method except, it works for me. As I've grown, the two strains (spiritual and secular) have been able to mingle and strengthen each other. My mind and spirit instruct one another as I question what I've learned and observed and test each one side-by-side. Some things I still just don't do for no other reason than they just don't give me a peaceful, loving feeling. Religion has often helped me hone in on that still, small voice.
Now, the things written in the Book of Mormon don't presume to step outside of simple moral instruction. Mormons are simple - though our practices sometimes seem strict, we hope we can be judged as individuals and not as a lump of crazies governed by a seditious book.
This was part of a conversation I had with an atheist on the website:
We make these books available by the hundreds and many have read and been uplifted by the words inside. Contained in its pages are the simple stories we believe came from the peoples of the ancient Americas. It's a record of their spiritual struggles and lessons, much like the Bible. Perhaps that seems a little wacky to an atheist - but many are willing to put faith in this book. Abundant with the teachings of Christ, many believe this book can help people become better than they are by applying its doctrine to their lives. It doesn't have to guide your life, but that should not discredit the millions of Mormons who do put faith in the book. It has helped me focus my efforts at improving myself - there must be books you have read which have similarly inspired you to think outside of yourself, and indeed outside social constructs. You don't have to accept this book, but I urge you to cooperate with the many who do. Accept that we have our differences and instead focus on things we do share - charity, love, values. We need more cooperation, not more contention.
It does trouble me that so many Americans take issue with Mitt's Mormonism. Until it interferes with his ability to perform in office, it seems to me more like an asset than a red flag.
It's not religion that keeps impeding on humanity's ability to live peacably one with another. It's humanity's humanity. We're imperfect - we get it wrong, we point fingers, we argue. But our responsibility to humanity isn't to prove which way is "the way"... it's to live and love anyway. It's more challenging, more enriching. We may not be able to agree (boxers or briefs, how about magical secret underpants?) but we can keep knocking off some of those rough "human" edges by allowing ourselves to come up against differing opinions, and listening to them.
And that, children, is how a bill becomes a law.
I went with Institute friends and had fun catching up with Jared, Clint, and Christina. Jared and I have known each other since middle school - we parrotted off old acquaintances with startling alacrity. I didn't even know I knew the people I still know. And somehow there was always more - a gush or slop of strangely forgotten memories here and there, nothing to link them all except the ubiquitous theme, "Oh yeah, I remember that... kind of."
We went for Cheesecake after. I ordered a tea that never came and took notes on one story I heard - hopeful it will provide fodder for an essay someday.
It was one guy, an avid Beatles fan and recent member of my "hey, I know your brother" club, who told a charming story about his little sister's birth. It was the worst day of his life.
Coming from a family that had previously housed a robust crowd of male-only children, he was devastated. He said it was literally the worst day of his life.
First, the young Ryan fell twice while attempting his escape from a would-be goat-faced killa (a cousin's pet goat, whose head-butting undoubtedly incurred immediate fatality, or so his 10-year-old brain assumed). Narrowly escaping death, he struggled to his feet and examined the damage. This tumble had bloodied and muddied up his "I Love Primary" shirt - a harsh blow, but not quite as harsh as his penance. He was forced to wear his girl-cousin's old hand-me-down polo.
Considering she was about ten at the time, it was probably a pretty androgynous fit, but the bullet nonetheless struck to kill. It was a girl shirt.
And so, amidst the brotherly bedeviling he faced after donning his feminine attire, his aunt's tittered announcement seemed almost fatal:
"Boys... your mother just gave birth to a beautiful...
baby girl."
He said his world simply stopped. Up to that point, he didn't even his mother could produce such a creature. A girl?
He said he felt that whatever deity that was watching his lowly life had forsaken him. It truly was the worst day of his life. Until he went to the hospital and saw how cute she was and how much everyone liked her. Since then he's rescinded his initial reaction.
Unfortunately, the "I Love Primary" shirt was never restored to him.
Perhaps there's some venue for a story like that - an LDS-geared fiction journal. Perhaps a BYU publication. Essays and short stories abound.
Speaking of,
lately I've been stalking this one article written by a somewhat abusive editorialist - an article that (quite controversially) was linked to MSN a few days ago. It was about Mitt Romney's decision to keep mum when asked about his Mormonism. The author essentially states we have a right to know more about Romney's practices and how devout he is. This, I think is reasonable - but his rationale was borderline intolerant. He argues we have a right to know more about Mitt's Mormonism only because Mormonism is so aberrantly false, and we need to know the extent of his devotion to a bunky religion because it reflects on his intelligence and sanity. He then rattles off a list of reasons why no intelligent, and indeed sane, person could believe in the religion. The author called Mormonism a cult and labeled Joseph Smith a proven fraud. He took some mild cheap shots - he even poked fun at Mormon garments in his final paragraph.
Granted, some readers filed this response under "angry, bitter atheist" editorial and shuffled along on their way. Apparently the author is a widely-known polemicist and religion-hater. (However, I don't think acknowledging the fact that you hate a certain group makes that hatred any more acceptable). But many stepped forward and said, "hear, hear" and even cited their own reasons Mormonism should be stamped out.
The article spawned a torrent of responses from Mormons and anti-Mormons alike. Some of them are very clever, but most of them simply argue that there are discrepancies between different accounts of Joseph Smith's life. It's absorbing to read and respond to the many opinions about this issue. But a lot of it is simply bizarre and hurtful. I'm more surprised at how people view us than I ever have been. It's been a little like listening in to a conversation I'm not supposed to hear. People say some truly hurtful things behind the anonymity of a computer alias. The Internet has widened a whole new genre of bigotry. Faceless, guiltless prejudice - people just tossing things out there to hurt and disprove.
Plainly, the chances of either camp converting the other are minimal. The religious will always have faith to overcome discrepancies between spirituality and secularism, and the atheists will always have facts abundant to tear down spirituality. There comes a point in every religious person's life where they confront these contradictions and they're forced to decide. You either believe the facts and forget the faith, or you get over it and believe what you think is right. Sometimes that means not having all the factual answers, just spiritual ones. Sometimes it means abandoning a personal crutch. But each has to make that choice personally.
This has forced me to ask a difficult question.
Is it ever appropriate to tell anyone their religion is false? And, importantly, that their religion has actually been proven false?
Then I think of the Robert Frost poem, Witch of Coos,
"SON: Mother can make a common table rear
And kick with two legs like an army mule.
MOTHER: And when I've done it, what good have I
done?"
When a child tosses a penny into a pond and makes a wish, do you slap the child upside the head and tell him wishes don't ever come true? Even if I'd never been granted a wish, even if I felt my life had been one giant unlucky joke - I'd tell that child to keep wishing. Why? Because that child is yearning for something better. That child longs for improvement of circumstances, that child recognizes the imperfections of reality and has hope that something he does will change them.
I suppose a wishing well story isn't a very accurate depiction of religion. This comparison reduces religion to mere superstition. (I don't know if it's true or not... I'll just pray and go to church just in case) That's not really what I mean. Instead, I mean religion gives many people a beautiful optimism and motivation to live life the best they can. It makes many try things they would not otherwise try, to hope for things they would otherwise not even dream for. Should that moving power, that tender sentiment be destroyed simply because someone else has never experienced it, and it therefore isn't real?
When you've done it, what good have you done?
I have a very gutting sense that I am misunderstood.
A word from the religious:
We don't claim everyone without religion lives immorally. The purpose of religion isn't to oppress or make others feel bad for not believing - the purpose of religion is to uplift and motivate people who believe in God to be more like Him. Personally, I believe (and hope others believe) in a benevolent, loving, intelligent God. A god of scientific genius - a god who wants people to take care of each other, a god who has inspired many people to pen a plethora of uplifting words. There are beautiful moral truths in the religious texts throughout the world. Most of them have many of the same messages - brotherly love, forgiveness, self-discipline. Some people abuse these texts to oppress others, and those figures undercut so much of the good that has been done by millions of quiet practicing religious folk.
There have been people who have similarly used science to oppress. Nazis felt they had found the true 'superior' race, white Americans thought they were superior to blacks, Englishman thought Irishmen were bumbling buffoons by virtue of their genetic make-up. These things likewise blight the reputation of scientists and atheists everywhere.
Both camps could fill volumes on each other with all the motives of different oppressors and tyrants throughout the ages, but these are simply side-roads forking away from collaborative progress.
Religious people and atheists could use to get along better. There are things we need to learn from each other. Religious people should pay attention to how science interacts with their faith - we can't afford to ignore and dismiss, or we won't grow. Atheists should be kind and treat religious folk like intelligent, self-instructed people - to respect each one as individuals instead of mindless drones following dangerous nonsense. I'm sure Mitt evades these religion questions because he sees himself getting lumped into an amorphous blob of "crazy Mormons"... instead of being judged as an individual with freedom of choice and personal judgment, like other candidates.
We do like our nonsense that we believe in - but that's because we believe it makes us better people, not because we want to pacify ourselves and ignore what our brains tell us. This is a challenge. It often takes much study and internal wrestling to discover answers, but we believe those answers are well worth the seeking. Many of those who accept religion work hard to reconcile spiritual and secular knowledge - it is a mind-opening, spiritually-enriching exercise for many.
Many of us have the proselyting bug in us, but that's not because we don't love and accept others, and it's not because we pity them in their non-religious states. We simply like the way religion can bring us closer to the people we want to be - and we want to share that feeling. We risk stepping on toes sometimes because it is such a tender experience.
The idea that the Book of Mormon comes from a dubious source is what many are really debating. Each camp will give reasons why one side is right and the other is wrong - it's the same argument sparred throughout the centuries. What needs to happen is for both sides to get over it. Like that argument you keep having with your husband since you were both in college - just give it up. There are things worth your time and energy, and debating these details aren't. Religio-cites, there will always be people who don't believe. Until Mohammed/Jesus/Gandalf returns (and in your case, Jews - when the Messiah comes for the first time...) there will be atheists. And atheists, even if you gave us a peer-reviewd journal article written by God Himself telling us He doesn't exist (even with properly cited sources), we'll keep on believing.
Why?
This is my take. I won't speak for all religious people, but I can tell you what I think.
To me, truth based on empirical data isn't truth if it doesn't agree with spiritual confirmation. This is something many atheists can't accept. And I can give you no reason to accept this method except, it works for me. As I've grown, the two strains (spiritual and secular) have been able to mingle and strengthen each other. My mind and spirit instruct one another as I question what I've learned and observed and test each one side-by-side. Some things I still just don't do for no other reason than they just don't give me a peaceful, loving feeling. Religion has often helped me hone in on that still, small voice.
Now, the things written in the Book of Mormon don't presume to step outside of simple moral instruction. Mormons are simple - though our practices sometimes seem strict, we hope we can be judged as individuals and not as a lump of crazies governed by a seditious book.
This was part of a conversation I had with an atheist on the website:
We make these books available by the hundreds and many have read and been uplifted by the words inside. Contained in its pages are the simple stories we believe came from the peoples of the ancient Americas. It's a record of their spiritual struggles and lessons, much like the Bible. Perhaps that seems a little wacky to an atheist - but many are willing to put faith in this book. Abundant with the teachings of Christ, many believe this book can help people become better than they are by applying its doctrine to their lives. It doesn't have to guide your life, but that should not discredit the millions of Mormons who do put faith in the book. It has helped me focus my efforts at improving myself - there must be books you have read which have similarly inspired you to think outside of yourself, and indeed outside social constructs. You don't have to accept this book, but I urge you to cooperate with the many who do. Accept that we have our differences and instead focus on things we do share - charity, love, values. We need more cooperation, not more contention.
It does trouble me that so many Americans take issue with Mitt's Mormonism. Until it interferes with his ability to perform in office, it seems to me more like an asset than a red flag.
It's not religion that keeps impeding on humanity's ability to live peacably one with another. It's humanity's humanity. We're imperfect - we get it wrong, we point fingers, we argue. But our responsibility to humanity isn't to prove which way is "the way"... it's to live and love anyway. It's more challenging, more enriching. We may not be able to agree (boxers or briefs, how about magical secret underpants?) but we can keep knocking off some of those rough "human" edges by allowing ourselves to come up against differing opinions, and listening to them.
And that, children, is how a bill becomes a law.