Wednesday, September 18, 2019

Soares & Christensen, Q&A, B&S

Yet another apostle has now graced us with what seems to be the church's new favorite gimmick—a Face-to-Face event.  Elder Soares, joined by Elder Christensen of the seventy, spoke to a small and slightly-too-intentionally-international group of young adults to answer their slightly-too-carefully-selected questions.  Though the devotional was structured to avoid having to confront particularly challenging concepts head-on, it was, nonetheless, a little revealing.

I'll begin with a completely unimportant quote that I found amusing.
"Where I Can Turn for Peace" is one of my favorite hymns.
Okay, Elder Soares, but the song you're referring to—the one you sat through a performance of like five minutes ago—is called "Where Can I Turn for Peace?"  I find it funny that he accidentally gets the name wrong while praising it as a personal favorite.  Although, to be fair, it's very likely that he learned the hymn in one of the other languages that he speaks, so when he first fell in love with its message, I'm sure the exact title wasn't the one in the English hymnbook.
We both loved God more than we would ever love each other.
Gross.  

Sister Christensen said this while telling the story of how she met her husband.  This just seems...wildly unhealthy.  You're choosing your eternal companion and you still seem to think it's a good thing that the person you're going to spend the rest of forever with will still mean less to you than an omnipotent being who doesn't even personally interact with you?  You're never going to have the kinds of bonding experiences with God that you'll have with your spouse.  You'll never struggle to raise a family with God, help shoulder God's emotional burdens, experience physical intimacy with God, or share in life's lighter, sweeter moments with God.  At the very least, wouldn't it make sense that, even if your relationship was initially founded upon a joint loyalty to your creator, you'll come to love your eternal companion in a way that is more intense and more entire than the way you feel toward your Father in Heaven?

I also thought that some of the things that the Christensens shared smacked of sexism.  For example, Sister Christensen said she identified qualities in her husband that told her that he was someone she should follow.  And Elder Christensen joked that the reason they have "more than twenty dollars now" is "thanks to her."  This was clearly a joke (and the audience laughed), but it seems to me that the basis for why people thought this was funny was that it was so silly to think that the financial success of a family could be an achievement of the wife.  The punchline was this weird, gooey, sour mixture of misogyny and false modesty.

Also, clocking in at over 12 minutes, the discussion in response to the question about marriage is the longest of this interview.  Interesting that these two leaders are comfortable spending more time talking about their personal histories with their spouses than answering the distressing doctrinal inquiries of their flock.
You know, I don't know this particular circumstance of this young man who asked the question.  Let me talk just in general. 
Uh, no, that's not okay.  This was how the question began:  "Every day, I feel so much hatred and embarrassment and guilt in myself for being home [early from my mission] and feel as if I have let God down."  You don't need to know any specifics, Elder Christensen.  You can talk in generalities later, sure, but if you don't start with a specific statement to the individual who posed the question to tell him that he absolutely should not hate himself, you're missing a big opportunity to do some good.

Elder Soares later does a similar thing.  He'll speak generally and give some kind words, but neither one of them will really express empathy toward a rather shocking confession that should worry people.  You have someone following the true gospel of Christ and this person hates himself.  This is not how you like to think your religion works.  Say something nice to this person, directly, to help free him from his downward spiral of self-flagellation!
I think we all question whether our offering to God is good enough. 
I wonder why so many of us question that, Elder Christensen.  It's not like a Book of Mormon prophet taught us that if ye should serve him who has created you from the beginning, and is preserving you from day to day, by lending you breath, that ye may live and move and do according to your own will, and even supporting you from one moment to another—I say, if ye should serve him with all your whole souls yet ye would be unprofitable servants.  So it's completely baffling to me that this is such a common subject of self-assessment.
To come home early from your mission might be for your learning and growth.
This is such a shitty thing to teach people who are suffering.  Oh, you suffer from a terminal disease, financial trouble, loneliness, mental illness, cultural stigma, sexual trauma, anxiety, the death of a loved one, or drug addiction?  This is actually a good thing!  It will be for your learning and growth!

Thanks, I'm cured.
I mean, he's certainly not wrong that we can learn and grow from our setbacks.  But when that setback is still raw and still an ongoing experience, this attitude is not a particularly helpful starting point.  After you've had a chance to heal a little, it's useful to look back for learning opportunities.  But telling someone who is currently in crisis that they'll eventually be able to draw positive lessons from their struggles doesn't necessarily help pull them out of their little pit of despair--particularly when that pit is filled with something as deeply detrimental to emotional health as self-hatred.
You're good enough.  I wouldn't worry about coming home early.
Okay, we're getting almost in the area surrounding the vicinity that's in close proximity to nearly directly addressing the questioner's claim of self-hatred.  But I think any progress made is destroyed by the advice simply not to worry about it.  I'm pretty sure not worrying about it is one of the first things this person tried.  If that had worked, he wouldn't have enlisted apostolic counsel for his plight.
I would say for you—especially for this returned missionary—seek for the Lord to find peace. He knows your heart.  He knows you gave the best you could.  And he understands the pains you're feeling and the reasons you had to return home.  He is the only one who can really judge you correctly.  So don't worry about anything else, search for the Lord.  Search for peace.
Okay, so now that Elder Soares has chimed in, it's getting even messier.  He, at least, opts to speak somewhat directly to the person who submitted the question.  I thought it was huge that he referred to him as a "returned missionary," because even though that's technically accurate, within Mormon culture, there's a returned missionary and then there's a Returned Missionary.  The way he refers to this person makes it sound like he should be considered a legitimate Returned Missionary, with all the social status and implied spiritual dick size that entails, even though his service was abbreviated.  And that wasn't really a surprise for me, because from what little we've heard from Elder Soares in his time in the Quorum of the Twelve so far, he does seem like one of the more well-meaning leaders of the church.

But—

He didn't address the hate.  That one word in this question identifies the speaker, in my mind, as someone who is in a crucial personal crisis and who may be at risk for depression or suicidal ideation.  Someone in a position of authority needs to tell this person to seek professional counseling.  Someone in a position of authority needs to tell this person that he should never hate himself.  Someone in a position of authority needs to contact this person's bishop and make sure the ward is reaching out to him to make him feel loved and included instead of marginalized and stigmatized.  Someone in a position of authority needs to fucking acknowledge and validate this person's emotional struggle so he doesn't feel like he's screaming at a brick wall and receiving no assistance.  Someone, anyone, multiple someones need to tell this person he is loved and valued.

Absolutely no one should be telling this person not to worry about it.  But that's exactly what two of the Lord's anointed just did.  Both of them.

Also, it would have been nice if either one of these men had addressed the church body at large to remind them not to judge or informally ostracize people who have come home early from their missions.  Soares did say that Christ is the only one who can judge correctly, but it could have done a huge service to the people who have returned before their allotted mission length if he'd admonished the general membership in more direct terms for contributing to the suffering of people like the young man who posed the question.
Doubts are dangerous.  Questions are the way that we receive revelation.
This answer was given in Spanish, so some of the nuance may have been lost in the English translation, but these are the words attributed to Elder Christensen by his translator.

The church has really been trying to stress the distinction between a doubt and a question, and I think it's not doing a very good job.  Christensen's answer here makes it sound like receiving revelation is a tightrope walk.  You risk a lot by entertaining a question, because what if that question turns into a doubt?  The two concepts are frequently discussed hand in hand—one of them is considered to be unwelcome and dangerous while the other is considered to be acceptable and useful.  But when the two are so inextricably linked, it can make it seem like entertaining a question isn't worth the trouble because it can place you too close to the dreaded danger of doubt.  

Maybe I'm putting my tinfoil hat on again, but I have to wonder if the sloppy, often confusing treatment of these two concepts is intentional.  Because the church doesn't want your questions—it wants your obedience.  And if it can pretend to approve of questions while positioning them so close to something else that it actively demonizes, maybe it can effectively discourage questions while expressing support for them.  That way it can look like it welcomes them even as it tries to manipulate its members into avoiding them entirely.
Sometimes we move forward only reading things that we find on the internet or books or reading things that people wrote—people that we don't even know. When we do this, we forget to do the things that can help us.  Things such as reading the scriptures, praying, going to the temple, going to church, participating in institute classes.

This answer of Soares's was also translated into English.

Here he's apparently indicating that things that were written by people we don't know are of suspect validity.  What is the first thing he says we should do instead?  Read the scriptures.  Gee, I wonder how many of us are personally acquainted with Moses, Paul, Alma, Joseph Smith, or any other scriptural authors.

But regardless of the contradiction, it's still ridiculous reasoning.  The lack of a personal connection to an author does not make that author's information unreliable.  The accuracy of their claims and the soundness of their reasoning should not be judged based on how well we are personally acquainted with them.  Sound reasoning should speak for itself, truth should be buttressed by data, and complete strangers should be understood to possess the same capabilities as close friends to highlight truth and to produce lies. 

This is, of course, a relatively cynical way to live, so let me just clarify that I'm only suggesting people are well served by this approach when it comes to matters of greater import.  If a longtime friend tells you that The Last Unicorn is the pinnacle of cinematic achievement, then take their word for it and watch the movie.  If some rando on the street says so, feel free to ignore it.  Not only is this kind of information subjective, but it also doesn't have much impact on anything of great consequence.  It's when people start talking about morality and eternity and authority that I think we need to start being a lot more careful to judge information on its own merits rather than dismissing things from sources that aren't close to us.
I remember as a young missionary reading a scripture, I didn't know what it meant.  It talked of an overflowing surge that covered the earth, but my disciples would be in holy places.  And I remember thinking, how does that work?  I thought the scourge was pestilence or a plague.  How can one person stand and one person fall?  In today's world, that scourge is the problem of pornography.
This appears to be a reference to D&C 45:31-32, which doesn't seem to be about pornography at all.  I'm willing to concede that the scourge and sickness referred to here are figurative rather than being actual physical ailments.  But when the people who succumb to the scourge curse God and die, it sure sounds like this is talking about something that physically kills people.  But that's not really the main thing I want to bring up here.

Christensen appears to identify porn as one of the preeminent problems in the world.  So destructive is smutty imagery that it merited, apparently, a divine prophecy as a latter-day scourge and sickness.  I think that's completely absurd.  See, this planet still plays host to things like slavery and child sex trafficking.  Our species is responsible for deep-seated and indefensible cultural, racial, national, and sexual enmities and bigotries.  We start wars.  Some of us are consumed by greed or pride or selfishness. Some of us fundamentally discard and devalue empathy for our fellow human beings.  Pornography may be bad, but if you're seriously suggesting that this is the scourge of the world today that was foreseen by Joseph Smith in 1831, you're not taking an honest look at all the moral failings of humanity and it's really difficult to respect anything else you have to say.  Get some fucking perspective.
And, I remember, in our rehearsal you made this comment—if I could share it—you said, "If we saw the price that the brethren pay to receive revelation, we would have less doubts about the decisions they're making."
This is one of the youthful hosts attributing an earlier off-camera comment to Soares—which Soares nods to acknowledge.

Okay, so, what the hell is this talking about?  What is the price?  Does he mean that the apostles physically suffer in order to recieve divine instruction? Or is the process of receiving revelation mentally and spiritually taxing?  Does their revelatory ritual involve some kind of fight club?  Or does it take up a lot of their precious time?  Does it negatively affect their relationships with their families?  Do they lose money?  Does it make their hair gray?  What is the price?

Oh, right, we can't see the price.  And, apparently, we can't even define what anybody means by "price."  Which makes this entire comment completely useless.  This is a very important sounding way of saying, essentially, "There's a lot of evidence for why our decisions are awesome.  It's a bummer you can't see the evidence, but, man, if you could, it would blow.  Your.  Mind."  

They're pretending to be sitting on something truly wonderful and asking us to take their word for it on how wonderful it is—and they COULD be telling the truth, but since nobody will go into detail or let us see this wonderful thing, we have no idea how valid their claim is.

But it kind of makes you wonder—if this information has such power to dispel doubt, why is it not discussed openly for the benefit of the church membership?
Changes in policies is not something new.  It happens since the beginning.  The Savior changed policies and he entitled prophets, seers, and revelators to do the same according to the circumstances and needs.
Okay, then, Elder Soares, I'm gonna need you to go through this in detail and explain exactly what circumstances required ordinance discrimination against blacks and what needs required exclusionary policies against LGBT members and their children.  Because it seems like you're saying Jesus gave prophets the right to be giant dicks, and that really doesn't sound like him.
There are many in the scriptures that I would consider policy changes.  For instance, we no longer offer sacrifice of the firstling of our flocks.  The Savior put an end to that policy.... 

Okay, hold up, there, Elder Christensen.  Are you saying the Law of Moses was a collection of policies?  I really, really doubt that the Israelites would have considered all of that mere policy.  It was called a Law, it was given by God, and there were serious temporal and spiritual consequences for violating it.

If the Law of Moses was policy and not doctrine, does this mean that we can suffer eternal consequences for violating mutable policy even if what we've done is vindicated by immutable doctrine?  If the church is calling something a policy, then it should have administrative impact.  It should only have eternal impact if it's a proper doctrine.  

For example, it's church policy that we ordain boys as deacons at age 12.  If you interview an 11-year-old, find him worthy, and exercise your priesthood power to ordain him as a deacon, that's a policy violation—but nobody's going to a lower degree of glory over it, right?  Unless the Law of Moses was a policy, in which case, that opens the door to some possible extreme ramifications for a misstep like giving someone the Aaronic priesthood a year early.

And if failure to abide by a policy can carry punishments of the same magnitude as doctrinal violations, that means that when God places someone into the Celestial Kingdom, he's not just rewarding their belief and their faith and the virtue of their deeds—he's also rewarding them for observance of arbitrary, peripheral, non-essential administrative rules.  God is rewarding busywork.
We cannot condition our faithfulness to the immediate answers of our desires.
Translation (yes, I know, Elder Soares was answering in English):  It is unlikely that your prayers will be answered immediately.  If prayer doesn't work for you, don't stop believin'.  Just hold on to that feelin'.
I think Nephi was exactly like each one of us.  He had questions.  Didn't understand everything.  But he knew of one thing that helped to go forward.  He knew God loved him.  And that's what we need to know, my dear friends.  If we know that, everything will be easier in our lives.
Okay, on the surface, I guess that's sort of nice.  But the more we know, the more actionable information we can use to go forward.  Teaching people to be satisfied with not knowing things is shitty.  Especially when they feel that the questions they have are essential to their eternal salvation.
I had questions and I had them answered by the prophets, seers, and revelators.  I had them answered as I dive in the scriptures, as I learned more about the love of God for me.
Okay, so let's hear them.  If you don't have questions anymore, then you must have some real killer info.  Isn't that exactly what this Face-to-Face is for?  What were your questions, what did you struggle with, and what specific issues were substantively resolved?  Walk us through it.

Because the only things you've really offered today are simplifications, justifications, and platitudes.  Where are the details?  How much does any of this actually help?

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