“The life of the common law has been in the unceasing abuse of its elementary ideas.” So observed S. F. C. Milsom, a Cambridge legal historian and one of the greatest scholars of the common law. It was important to the authority of the common law that it demonstrate continuity– so important that leading common lawyers and judges like Edward Coke and Matthew Hale could insist that the law had never changed. Its authority lay in the assumption that its precepts had always been there, “the memory of man runneth not to the contrary.” And yet the world changed drastically over the course of centuries, and it was essential that the law adapt in order to remain viable. How did it manage to maintain continuity but also adapt? By “abus[ing] its elementary ideas,” as Milsom says. By continuing to use many of the same terms and concepts, but using these in different ways (often supported by fictions), declining to notice or dwell on the abuses or adaptations. In this way, the magnificent achievement of the common law has been able to span centuries, always the same, always changing. I suspect that something similar happens– and must happen– in any kind of living tradition. Old ideas and terms get “abused,” used in new ways, in order maintain the necessary connection with the past while also adjusting to new conditions and challenges. Of course, this process invites criticisms, of different kinds. One…
Author: Steven Smith
Teach me to walk . . . .
My wife and I held our own service this morning– we read a scripture, listened to several conference talks– and it was uplifting, but perhaps less of an investment than on most Sundays; so this evening my wife said, “Let’s sing some hymns.” So we went to the piano, and then she said, “Let’s sing some Primary songs,” so we got out the big blue book and sang for maybe an hour, just the two of us. “Can a little child like me/ thank the Father fittingly?” “He sent his son.” “I feel my Savior’s love.” “Love one another.” I’m not much of a singer, but the songs “took me back,” as they say. Took me back to when my Mom was Primary president and we sang some of those same songs– back before the Sexual Revolution or the Beatles or even the Beach Boys. Those seem like such simple, innocent times. Took me back to my many years as Primary pianist, more than a decade in all, in more than one ward. I used to sit at the piano and watch the children and think how pure and precious they are, and how innocent– and how things are going to get so much more complicated for them as they grow older. By now all of them are grown and mostly gone. A few still live in the ward or nearby, and although I don’t do Facebook, my wife does,…
Going it alone?
We all have our flaws and our inexcusable shortcomings– Mormons as well as non-Mormons. We sometimes offend or injure others, ignorantly or thoughtlessly or sometimes even maliciously. Mormons as well as non-Mormons. These failings can make religious fellowship difficult– painful rather than uplifting, as it should be. In recent discussions on this blog, people have shared painful experiences they have had in the church. It is impossible, I think, not to be moved by some of these experiences. Sometimes a person will conclude that participation in church is more of a hindrance than a benefit, and that they would be better off just going their own way– nurturing their faith on their own, perhaps, trying to live a Christ-like life, but not subjecting themselves to the offense and pain they encounter in church settings. Sometimes I’m of that mind myself. So I definitely can sympathize with that choice. I can’t say that it is necessarily wrong for everyone. Even so, I think the scriptures are clear that this is not by and large what the Lord wants us to do. He wants us to gather together in twos and threes and more in His name, to worship and to strengthen each other. My own experience suggests that this is the preferred course. It demands patience, often, and humility. But flawed as we are, we need each other. Sunday before last, I participated in an LDS worship service at Donovan State…
The Christian story and the Mormon story
There is the Christian story, and there is the Mormon story; and we understand them to make up a single story. But which story is primary and which secondary? Which is the whole of which the other is a part? Logically and theologically, it seems, the Christian story ought to be primary. The Mormon story presupposes and depends on the Christian story. Put it this way: You can set aside or bracket or reject the Mormon story and still embrace the Christian story. Lots of people do that. It doesn’t work the other way around. Take the Christianity out of Mormon thought and culture, and what of real value would be left? True, not everyone agrees with this point. I’ve known an occasional member who, if I understood correctly, would hold to and emphasize the distinctively Mormon elements (the material from the King Follett discourse, maybe) while deemphasizing or backgrounding the more standard Christian elements. The idea is that Mormonism will eventually stand to Christianity as Christianity stands to Judaism– an idea I associate with the historian Jan Shipps. But this seems an untenable position. What would Mormonism be if you take away our beliefs in the Atonement and the Resurrection? Maybe some project of elevating ourselves through ongoing self-perfecting into some sort of Nietzschean supermen? Except that without the Atonement and Resurrection, how and when would we manage to do this? It looks pretty grotesque. So logically (or if…
Prophetic credentials, prophetic content (Sam’s rebuttal)
My friend Sam called me yesterday and he came right to the point. “I’ve been reading your report of our conversation last week, and I’ve also been reading some of the responses, and I think that there is some confusion that I would like to clear up.” “What do you mean?” I asked. “Well, you remember that I took the view that even in the worst case hypothetical scenario– even if it could somehow be proven that Joseph Smith’s claims were fraudulent– there would still be good reason for people to remain faithful members of the church. The church’s teachings about God and Christ and salvation– and how to live– would still be true. The fellowship and service would still be uplifting. And so forth.” “Yes, I remember.” “Well, a common refrain among the commenters was that the historical claims are our basis for believing what the church teaches, so if those claims were disproven we’d no longer have any reason to put any trust in those teachings, or in the church.” “The commenters raised a lot of different points. But I think that was one of them, yes.” “And I think that’s a mistake. I think it reflects a fundamentally mistaken view of how and why we believe.” “How so?” “Here’s one way of putting the point. The picture in that objection is of a prophet– Elijah, Joseph Smith, Thomas S. Monson– who comes proffering his prophetic credentials and…
Joseph Smith and the Worst Case Scenario
My friend Sam and his family came over yesterday evening; and after dinner Sam and I, social misfits that we are, slunk off and went out on the deck to talk. (Yes, it’s February, but it’s also San Diego.) We started off wondering whether BYU’s narrow one-point win last Saturday over lowly USD (my school) would hurt their chances of making the NCAA tournament. But then somehow the conversation wound around to people we know who have “left the Church,” as we say, because of doubts about Joseph Smith. In a couple of cases these were seemingly faithful members, and their departures have had painful consequences both for their families and for their own lives. I commented that this seemed sad, and Sam said, “Yes. Tragic, really, because so unnecessary.” “Unnecessary why? Because there are satisfying answers to the questions about Joseph Smith?” “There may be,” Sam said. “But even if there aren’t, that’s not a good reason to leave the Church.” “I’m surprised to hear you say that,” I answered. “I didn’t take you for one of these ‘Mormon is who I am, doesn’t matter whether it’s true’ members.” “I’m not,” said Sam. “Truth is the essential thing. It’s just that the truths of the Church and the Gospel aren’t dependent on the truth of claims about Joseph Smith. Joseph isn’t like Jesus. We never believed that we are saved through Joseph Smith. Joseph was just a messenger. What…
The Fourth Age of the Church?
I happened to run into my friend Sam a couple of days ago in the food line at Costco, and his first words were, “I’ve been diligently reading your posts on Times and Seasons.” “Thanks,” I said. “I only said I’ve been reading them. I didn’t say I liked them.” “So you didn’t like them?” “Well, some of them have been . . . interesting. But you’re dodging and dancing around the elephant in the room.” “That would be quite a feat,” I said. “But what do you mean? What elephant?” “The elephant,” Sam said obscurely, “is the prevailing paradigm. It isn’t viable anymore. And what you can’t bring yourself to say is that we need to be prepared to enter into the Fourth Age of the Church.” “Well, that sounds pretty portentous, but you’ll have to explain. What is ‘the prevailing paradigm’? And the Fourth Age? I suppose the first three were, maybe, the primitive church of the Apostles; and then the medieval church . . . .” “No, no,” Sam interrupted. “I’m not talking about Christianity in general. I’m talking about our Church. The Mormon Church. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.” We reached the front of the line, paid for our hotdogs, then sat down together at one of those metal picnicky tables. “To understand what I mean,” Sam continued, “you need to remember the idea of paradigm shifts. Some dominant model or theory or…
Restoring the church
The story has been told and retold. An earnest young man, intent on escaping the confusion of the world around him, seeks a secluded place to pray, hoping to receive divine guidance. And while praying, he receives a remarkable revelation from God– a commission, really, to restore the church. I’m referring, of course, to Francis of Assisi. Sensing the futility of the world of businessmen (like his father), of troubadours (whom he had admired), and of soldiers (he had been one), Francis retired to the old church at San Damiano to pray. As he was praying, he heard a voice emanating from the crucifix that said, three times,“Francis, go and repair my church, which as you see is all in ruins.” Francis understood this instruction to refer to the crumbling building in which he was praying, and so in the ensuing days he worked to physically repair that structure. But he gradually was led to understand that the commission was a more expansive one. And thus he came to organize the Franciscan order of friars that, accompanied by numerous miracles and heavenly visitations, spread throughout the world, preaching the Gospel and setting an example of sanctity, simplicity, and humility. And of praise: “All creatures of our God and King/ Lift up your voice . . . .” Some elements of the St. Francis story as it has been passed down clearly have a legendary feel to them. (The famous story…
The True Church: a conversation
Overheard while eavesdropping in the Deseret Diner: First speaker (let’s call him Adam): I’m not a member of your church, as you know, but I’ve lived among Mormons for most of my life, talked with missionaries, attended lots of meetings with friends. Done a lot of reading. There’s so much I admire about your church– its moral teachings, its family life, its community. And its genuine faith in Jesus Christ. (I’m an Evangelical, and this is important to me.) I don’t know of a church these days that does as much to spread the basic Gospel message– through your missionaries and on-line videos and all. But there’s one thing about Mormons that really bothers me– that is, your insistence that yours is “the only true church,” as I’ve often heard it put. Why do you have to say that? Mormons are annoyed when some Evangelicals say that you’re aren’t Christians. And understandably so. But don’t you see that you provoke this, and that you’re basically doing the same thing, when you say that yours is the only true church– or at least the only church with “the fullness of the Gospel”– and that in order to achieve exaltation everyone will have to join your church, in the next world if not in this one? This tenet actually undermines your efforts to spread the basic Christian message, I think, because people see your Christian videos or whatever and think, “That’s good,…
An inmate’s testimony
I hope I’m not abusing my privileges as a guest blogger with this post, which is not critical or intellectual but more in the inspirational vein. To me, the post is not unrelated to discussions we’ve been having on this blog. In previous posts I’ve referred more than once to a conviction that God is at work in this Church. Without that conviction, what would be the point of making the effort to try to work out some of the difficulties we’ve been discussing here? Still, I admit that the main reason for posting this is just that a man wrote up his testimony and earnestly wanted to share it, and I thought that some readers might appreciate that testimony, as I did. So let me introduce Arnold, who is an inmate at Donovan state prison, near San Diego, about a five minute drive from the Mexican border. Arnold is tall, fiftyish, African-American, thoughtful, well-spoken, with a resonant voice: the first time I met him, a little over two years ago, I told him he should be on the radio, and he said he’d been told that more than once. I could say more about how I admire Arnold, but let me just say that he is a blessing to other inmates and that I never talk with him without feeling uplifted. Arnold composed this testimony and delivered it in the D Yard chapel at an interfaith Day of Peace…
In defense of sin
When I signed on to be a guest blogger, I didn’t anticipate writing a post like this one. But several comments on earlier posts have pushed me to say a few words in behalf of sin, . . . or at least of sinfulness, . . . or at least of recognizing the pervasive reality of sinfulness. More specifically, in response to the question of what it is essential to believe in order to count oneself a Christian and a Latter-day Saint, several commenters recently suggested that the answer might be simply: love. Loving God and loving our neighbor. This is surely an appealing position. After all, people disagree about lots of things, but no one is against love. (Or at least hardly anyone. Nietzsche, maybe? And Satan, obviously.) And, the scriptures clearly teach that God is love, and that the two great commandments are to love God and to love our neighbor. Might it be that, as the song says, “Love is all you need”? The suggestion reminds me of a talk I heard last year by a Catholic scholar whom I admire tremendously. She is properly concerned about how the Christian message can be made more accessible and appealing, especially to younger generations. (Younger than me, anyway, which will include most of the people on this planet.) And she suggested that Christians need to emphasize the positive, joyous aspects of the faith, and to back off from presenting…
What is Essential and What is Optional?
In a ward council meeting a few years ago, someone mentioned that Brother So-and-So was struggling with doubts about the Book of Mormon. “Tell him to stop worrying about that,” the bishop said, “and think about what the Church does for him in his life.” This bishop (whom I dearly love) was a sort of down-to-earth, commonsensical fellow, and I thought this was wise advice, although– or maybe because– the instruction was ambiguous. It might have meant something like “If Brother So-and-So reflects on the blessings that the Church brings to his life, he will come to realize that this is a divine work, and thus that the Book of Mormon is true.” Or the bishop’s instruction might have meant something like “If the Church is helping him live a good life and get closer to God, it doesn’t ultimately matter whether the Book of Mormon is true or not.” (I doubt that the bishop had ever considered or even heard of the idea of the Book of Mormon as non-historical scripture.) The beautiful thing about the bishop’s advice was that different members with different understandings of the Book of Mormon could accept the wisdom of appreciating the blessings the Gospel brings and not getting hung up on doubts. But what if someone had reported that Sister Such-and-Such was struggling with doubts about the Resurrection. Would it be sound advice to say, “Tell her to stop worrying about that and…
Must testimony be tied to historical claims?
Call him Ishmael. The man has been coming to church with the missionaries for six or eight months now, and he seems a bit different from other investigators and recent converts we’ve seen in our ward. Most of these people have been, let us say, humble in their financial circumstances and educational attainments. Ishmael, by contrast, seems like someone who will not be needing welfare assistance: he is a doctor, mid-30s, good health, thoughtful and well-spoken. Before today, you had introduced yourself to Ishmael but had not talked with him at any length. But as it happens, it’s the third Sunday of the month, and you and I find ourselves seated next to Ishmael at the “Linger Longer” in the cultural hall after the meeting block. Following a bit of friendly conversation, you feel bold enough to ask: “So, Ishmael, you’ve been coming to church for a while, and we love having you here. Have you given any thought to . . . being baptized?” “Of course,” he says. “A lot of thought. Hmm. . . . Part of me really wants to belong to this community. Not because I need a social group or anything– I’m actually more of an introvert– but because, well . . . I hope this doesn’t sound overly dramatic, but I really feel the presence of God here. In your testimony meetings, in your interactions with each other. I think that belonging to this…
The humbling of the kingdom?
In Matthew 13, Jesus compares the kingdom of heaven to a mustard seed which, though tiny, grows into a tree in which the birds can nest. A verse later, Jesus compares the kingdom to yeast that the baker “hid” in a loaf of bread, causing the bread to rise. The comparisons seem to reflect quite different conceptions. In one, the kingdom is large and conspicuous, visibly structuring and supporting those who knowingly depend on it. In the other, the kingdom is a tiny and mostly imperceptible part of the mix. It is not and will never become a very substantial part of the product: the bread will be mostly composed of flour, sugar, water. Not of yeast– a loaf of bread consisting mostly of yeast would be inedible. And yet the yeast– and the kingdom?– will have an essential influence that permeates the whole, quietly lifting and sustaining it. From the outset, it seems, in thinking of the Latter-day kingdom, Church members have embraced the mustard seed/tree conception. Expectations were high, even grandiose. A striking instance is the proclamation written by the Twelve Apostles in 1845 and addressed “To all the kings of the world, to the president of the United States of America; to the governors of the several states and to the rulers and people of all nations.” The proclamation in effect audaciously announced, and demanded acknowledgment of, a new sovereign. “Therefore we send unto you with authority…
Farewell and Thanks from a Bad Blogger
As I mentioned in my first post, I was reluctant to be a guest blogger, mainly because I doubted I’d have anything to add to the conversation. I also didn’t realize then that this blog is as active as it is– the other blog I sometimes contribute to almost never elicits more than a couple of comments, alas– and I’m afraid I haven’t kept up with and answered some comments as I should have. For me, though, it’s been an interesting experience, and has given me a lot to think about. And I’ve been gratified by the friendly, engaged, and welcoming manner of most of the contributors. My week is up (and I’m off on a short, foreign vacation tomorrow– as soon as church is over, of course), but I appreciate having had the privilege of trying to be your guest blogger for the past few days. Keep the faith, and keep up the good fight!
Mormonism within Christianity; Christianity within Mormonism
Every so often the question “Are Mormons Christians?” gets batted around; the question has probably grown tedious for many. The discussions I’ve heard or read, though, usually leave me dissatisfied, in part because they treat Mormonism as if it were some unitary thing of definite and agreed upon content, and then argue about whether that unitary thing should be placed in the general category of “Christianity.” To me this approach seems false to the more complicated reality, and it misses the ways in which the question of Mormonism within Christianity is not just an abstract theological issue, or a polemical point (one that gets made in connection with Mitt Romney, for example, or Prop 8) but a live and important personal issue– at least for some of us. Here I venture, with trepidation, onto ground that some contributors to this blog have certainly traveled and charted more carefully than I have. But my own judgment has long been that Mormonism has elements and teachings that fit well with historic Christianity, and it has other elements that are more distinctively or even uniquely “Mormon” and that are pretty hard to square with historic Christianity. I think of the Book of Mormon– its teachings– as a source and locus of the more “Christian” ideas and teachings (if I can call them that). And I might take the King Follett discourse as representative of the more uniquely “Mormon” ideas that are harder to…
How to Integrate Faith and Scholarship– and How Not To
My title here makes a false promise, obviously, on which I can’t deliver. But comments on my earlier post suggest I ought to try to say something on the subject (which may be of interest, I admit, mostly to religiously-oriented academics). And it’s a subject about which I’ve wondered from time to time. In fact, though I hadn’t thought of this in years, it occurred to me as I began to write this post that I did an essay as a BYU undergraduate, for the Orson F. Whitney essay contest, on a related subject– something about how BYU could fulfill its prophetic destiny. Maybe the essay is moldering in some old issue of the Daily Universe. The only part I remember is that I thought BYU shouldn’t compromise its religious identity in order to achieve scholarly eminence. Seemed worth saying at the time; I don’t know if it is now. But I still believe it. I think the same thing about Notre Dame, where I used to teach, and where this remains a live issue. In fact, I moved to dreary South Bend from beautiful Colorado in part because I thought Notre Dame had the potential to be a distinctive and world-class university by integrating its faith and rich intellectual tradition with its academic mission, and I liked the idea of being part of that. And I sometimes found myself in the peculiar position, as a Mormon, of urging Catholic…
Confession of a Primary Pianist
When my friend Craig Harline suggested a few months ago that I do some guest blogging on Times and Seasons, I was initially enthusiastic; but on second thought my enthusiasm waned. It became clear to me that I probably wouldn’t have much to contribute to this conversation. And the main reason I wouldn’t have much to contribute is that I’m largely ignorant in matters of Mormon thinking. So I would be like the naive newcomer to a conversation who says things that other people have already thoroughly hashed over. And why should I be ignorant about this part of Mormonism? After all, I was “raised in the Church,” went on a mission, and graduated from BYU. Since then I’ve rarely missed a Sacrament Meeting, have made substantial monetary contributions, and have usually watched at least one session of general conference. But in recent years I’ve missed out on the no doubt scintillating discussions in Gospel Doctrine or priesthood meeting, in part because for about nine of the last ten years my ward calling (in two different wards) has been Primary pianist. (That may tell you something.) And I long ago left off reading LDS-type publications, whether general and official, meaning The Ensign, or more academic, such as Sunstone and Dialogue– which I assume are still in business? Or (sorry!) Times and Seasons. Nor can I sincerely say that this lapse is among the many things in my life that I…
Happy Pioneer Day!
This little reflection was originally posted on the blog Law, Religion, and Ethics — most of whose readers, if any, are presumably not LDS or residents of Utah. Pioneer Day, in case you didn’t know, is today, July 24; it commemorates the day in 1847 (give or take a day or two) when Brigham Young declared “This is the place,” and the Mormon pioneers entered the Salt Lake Valley. I imagine Pioneer Day is still celebrated in Utah, and it was a festive occasion in Idaho Falls, Idaho, when I was growing up in the 50s and 60s. My mother, though she lacked training or college experience, had an artistic bent, and she used to spend untold hours preparing the ward float for the annual Pioneer Day parade, to march along with floats sponsored by other wards (a ward is the Mormon equivalent of a parish) and other churches, as well as countless horse posses, 4-H groups, Shriners, and nicely waxed cars carrying local dignitaries. One year my sister and I were enlisted to stand on the ward float dressed as Betsy Ross and Uncle Sam.