The Best Cure

for bad journalism is good journalism. See here (http://www.christiancentury.org/article.lasso?id=3594) for some good journalism on our faith.

Church Public Relations Steps It Up A Notch

I've said it once; I've said a thousand times (and I'm willing to say it a thousand more times): we should take our cues about how to deal w/questions from the Church's public relations department. Mike Otterson (the man in the video on the left) is brilliant; he tackles tough questions head on in a candid way. All of us (at least all of us living outside the Jello Belt :) constantly deal with how best to address the issues about the Church. Otterson provides us an excellent example of how to do that in a world not always friendly to the truth.

A Very--How Do I Put It?--Interesting Ad

Do yourself a favor and watch this on fast forward. There isn't any high drama here. Just sheer oddity--hence its new found place on my blog.

Represent!!

Check out the recent Evangelicals for Mitt update, second quote box down; somebody just made a splash!

An Outrage

Check out this Newsweek article on Mitt and the influence of his faith. In sum, the only thing the authors credit the Church for is that we good wheeling, dealing, organization men, a more eccentric version of the Protestant work ethic.

As for me? I found it outrageous. For those who feel likewise, I would recommend dropping a letter to the editor. Just click on the "Contact Us" button. Every member a public relations specialist.

The Boiler Room of the Soul

Recently, a question has been asked of me, a question so simple that it can get centuries' of philosophers' blood boiling: how do we know anything I was asked, "Russ, sometimes it seems that you make it seem far too easy to accept the doctrines of the church, as though the only ingredient necessary was facts. But it's not the only necessary ingredient. Some of us have a harder time buying into the 'facts.'" It was suggested that I share what thoughts I had on how one knows something. I reserve the right to not only cite philosophers (you know, those pesky 'thinkers' who aren't supposed to be sharing anything relevant--get back to your Ivory Tower!) but also the divine philosophy of the scriptures. After all, philosophy just means "the love of wisdom." I have long lost count of how many times Sunday School teachers point out wisdom's many positive attributes over that of knowledge.

First, a little Marxist philosophy (we're co-opting for it our own purposes here). Antonio Gramsci talked of the concept of "hegemony." We use the word today to refer to a bloc of power in some realm of global or domestic affairs (ie you could talk of an "American hegemony"). However, Gramsci initially envisioned a far more dynamic picture taking place. Gramsci posed the question of why the international socialist revolution never happened following the Bolshevik revolution in 1917. Gramsci argued that the working class had essentially accepted the values of the bourgeoisie; we hear such sentiment in Calvin Coolidge's famed axiom: "The business of America is business." Or one might cite Thomas Paine's work: Common Sense ; what was once considered a radical idea for American colonists--the idea of independence--in 1775 was accepted as simply "common sense." This is not to mean that other ideas have no place in a social system; they do. But they only stay on the terms set by the dominating force .

Why is this significant? Because, while Gramsci was using the term derisively against the power of the middle classes, I would suggest that this process is simply how the mortal world fucntions. And for those who believe that some realms have no dominant ideology or prevailing thought, I would encourage them to ask any American if it is a good idea to drink a poisonous substance or to do the cha-cha in the middle of a busy New York street. I haven't done the stats, but I'll bet a dollar (maybe two--I'm a cheap man) that 9 out of 10 would say that anyone who wants to do that needs at the very least, some real mental assistance. Societies have prevailing ideologies about appropriateness and if they are not adhered to, then there are real consequences.

But not only do they exist at a societal level; they exist at an individual level as well. All of us have competing ideologies, influences if you will, in our personal makeup. Everything from a random lesson learned in 3rd grade history to what your mother taught you about stealing to what Zach Morris taught you about drinking and driving. Now, of course, these ideas do not have an equal place at our mental tables--some sit at the end whereas others are right beside us. When some people speak of a kind of primal urge to jump off of a tall building (just for the thrill), they are obviously not talking about what they actually want to do. Their urge for self-preservation is sitting closer to their inner decision-making capacity. But what of the man who saves the burning child in a flame-engorged house? Certainly, something else even trumps the need for self-preservation. These urges, values, and desires seem to be constantly posturing, posing, maneuvering no differently than aspiring corporate bureaucrats at a boiler room meeting.

So how does knowledge real knowledge play into this? Well, as has been said many times before, knowing facts is insufficient. The question is: which ideology sits closest to the boss in this boiler room meeting of the soul? In other words, which value has established as the hegemonic value, the one that governs the existence of all the others? The answer to this question is crucial; without an answer, we are left with merely a problem so vast that we have no choice but to, if you will, fire all the board members, declare spiritual bankruptcy, and become a vagabond seeking to find spiritual housing wherever we can for the time being.

Forunately, the words of both a a Catholic apologist and a disillusioned Christian might provide us some answers. That answer, to put in the (fictional) words of John Nash from A Beautiful Mind is love. First (and those who know me know that I can't resist this), G.K. Chesterton provides us with a direct description of how one ought to go about the re-ordering of his hegemony: "The evil of the pessimist is, then, not that he chastises gods and men, but that he does not love what he chastises" (he proceeds to criticize optimists for being too willing to "soothe every one with assurances," for being unwilling to "wash the world but [will instead] whitewash the world"). Love is central to understanding what is wrong and how best to fix it.

Similarly, Thomas Carlyle has a most poignant description of the power. To quote directly from Carlyle (pardon the block quotation; I just don't feel right cutting these words apart with my own):
"A loving heart is the beginning of all knowledge. This it is that opens the whole mind, quickens every faculty of the intellect to do its fit work, that of knowing; and therefrom, by sure consequence, of vividly uttering forth...Hereby, indeed, is the whole man made a living mirror wherein the wonders of this ever wonderful universe are, in their true light (which is ever a magical miraculous one) represented and reflected back on us. It has been said: 'The heart sees farther than the head:' but indeed, without the seeing heart, there is no true seeing for the head...all is mere oversight, hallucination and vain superficial phantasmagoria (an optical illusion) which can permanently profit no one."

While both authors were indoubtably heavily influenced by Christian thought, perhaps we would do well to listen to them in spite of our own lack of conviction. Love is not the consummate virtue, but the virtue. Before it and after it, there is none other. It becomes interesting both Paul's and Mormon's words concerning charity: "the pure love of Christ"; "if I have not charity, I am nothing." In light of this, perhaps we would do well to listen to that lone, oppressed revolutionary voice who fights our sometimes selfish hegemonies of thought, who insists that in spite of the cynicism of the day, love is still en vogue.

Faithful Questioning: A Gospel Key

My friends, my friends. Today was a riveting day of gospel scholarship at Church. Why? Because I had a principle driven home to me: the importance of faithful questioning.

I was browsing the news this morning when I saw a very sad news account of a man who lost his faith over some little historical nuggets of which he had not been aware (you can see the story here). There are two tragedies here (the first being relatively minor, the second being more serious):

1) Would that we, as Latter Day Saints, had been more informed generally concerning this issue that when the topic came up (as it almost assuredly had), he could have heard these things from a friend and not some sneering journalist like Jon Krakeur.
This has been common knowledge and accessible (from sympathetic sources) for those who wanted to know. And more importantly:

2) Would that he, after all these years, had developed the intellectual independence, the hard-nosed determination to find the truth that he would not have been surprised at the finding. Other Latter Day Saints have known such things for years--including myself. Provided that this news report gives us the most "juicy" of the tidbits, then his faith must have been a blind one indeed.

In other words, he didn't ask the right questions at the right time in the right place.

It's an odd principle to learn; that much I will admit. But I think it is a sound one. Brent L. Top once remarked that "those with the most insight and inspiration as to God's will for mankind are often those who do the most poignant pleading and questioning" (C.S. Lewis, The Man and His Message, pg. 118) We trick ourselves, and worse, limit ourselves if we think that such questioning is inherently infidelitous to the gospel and the Church. The truth is quite the contrary: a good Saint is a well-informed Saint. We must be renaissance men/women of the gospel. As Elder Oaks once remarked: the day when of the theologian-husband and the "good Christian wife" are over.

Sometimes I even find myself limiting the scope of what "good questions" might be. For example, I have often (from my own lips at times): "perhaps we shouldn't ask 'why is this happening to me?' instead ask 'what should I be learning from this?" A good, even wonderful question to ask! But it naturally leads to other questions, questions which themselves have piercing answers. As we see in the case of Christ ("Why hast thou forsaken me?"), Joseph Smith ("Oh God, where art thou?") and Alma ("How long shall we suffer these great afflications, Oh Lord?), the mere asking of a question in faith is bound to bear fruit. Every affliction is itself a new frontier of knowledge. A good explorer would not travel the same road everyone else has traveled (While the imagery Lehi imploys of the 'strait and narrow path' is powerful imagery, it's not the only imagery). Moreover, afflictions are the specimen of life, and no scientist I know would only perform one test an newly found amoeba. Thanks to such a seeking spirit, we have been blessed with myriad medical treatments. Perhaps we could be similarly blessed if we had such a questing spirit concerning the gospel.

Good Ole' Fashioned New York Politics

Remembering Our Darkest Hour

There is a very nice speech by Elder Eyring on lds.org, delivered only days ago at the Mountain Meadows Massacre commemoration. In my opinion, it succeeds beautifully; he acknowledges guilt to the extent that it exists, but more importantly, he implores that we heal from this event. While the scars run deep due to mutual mistrust, I agree. Acknowledging the faults, even the crimes of select leaders, does not mean that we must abandon our testimonies of Christ, Joseph Smith, the Book of Mormon, or the Church--as much as our naysaying friends might say otherwise.

J. Reuben Clark's Legacy

Yesterday, as I was attending my U.S. foreign policy class, I had the most delightful surprise. When you can find a professor of history at the University of Kentucky lauding the efforts of J. Reuben Clark, you know that at least one Mormon in the world has made a splash, has refused to hide his light under a bushel. Some background...

Since the Monroe Doctrine in 1823, the United States has taken a serious interest in maintaining its influence throughout the Western Hemisphere. In the early 20th century, Wilson sent raiding expeditions into Northern Mexico to capture Pancho Villa. Wilson also intervened in the elections of Dominican Republic and Haiti, threatening to impose democracy unless they complied. The United States pursued an even more aggressive policy in Nicaragua, where U.S marines were stationed in order to keep revolutionary governments out of power. No less than 5 presidents--from Taft to Franklin D. Roosevelt--supported or at least were apathetic about the occupation. By Herbert Hoover's time, the question had begun to loom large on the American psyche--why are we in Nicaragua? Universities, intellectuals, and pundits debated the question; prospects were glum for US interests in their "sphere of influence."

Enter J. Reuben Clark, once ambassador to Mexico and later Calvin Coolidge's Undersecretary of State. In December 1928, months before Hoover would take office, Clark maintained that the Monroe Doctrine and more specifically the Roosevelt Corollary (Theodore Roosevelt's doctrine that the US could intervene in the internal affairs of Western Hemisphere--basically, think the Monroe Doctrine but with soldiers to enforce it) could not be used to justify military intervention in the affairs of Latin America. While this memo was kept quiet initially, it eventually was leaked into a government publication in the 1930. Everyone in the administration repudiated it as unofficial musings--including Clark himself--but public opinion had essentially cornered the nation. Soon thereafter, Roosevelt withdrew the troops from Nicaragua and thus began the "Good Neighbor Policy" in Latin America-U.S. relations. The United States would treat Latin America as a good neighbor would--lend them goods, invest in them and avoid military intervention all the while.

Historians have debated the significance of the Clark Memorandum, questioning whether it was the cause of this shift in policy or if it simply marked the culmination of already improved relations between the U.S. and its hemispheric neighbors. Whatever the case, the Clark Memorandum demonstrates a tremendous accomplishment of a fellow Latter Day Saint, one that, at the very least, articulated (even if he did not actually help instigate) changes in U.S. imperial policy that can be counted as a humanitarian feat (a rare occurence in U.S.-Latin American relations).