Some rambling thoughts on apologetics and ska
Posted: Sun Dec 31, 2006 4:54 am
Browsing at a used bookstore tonight, I found an old ska CD I had owned in high school. It was $5, so I bought it. On the way home I popped it in and heard the line, "Dreams are so much nicer than real things." I thought how we live our lives fictionally in so many ways. Hayden White goes so far as to suggest that we use fictional tropes (tragedy, comedy, romance, etc.) to construct the narratives of our lives. Instinctively, most of us recognize the wide gulf that exists between the real and the perceived, though some people, whom we call fundamentalists, refuse to separate the two. As Terry Eagleton wrote, such people see the world literally, and to do so is a kind of insanity.
But even fundamentalists don't really experience some sort of cosmic reality; rather, they see life through the lens of Holy Writ, which they believe is reality itself. So, again paraphrasing Eagleton, even the most absurd parts of the scriptures, such as fishes swallowing men and a nonsensical Roman census, are taken as absolute truth because to suggest otherwise is to destroy what they see as the human link to reality: the literalness of the scriptures.
Mormons, I think, are far more aware of the relationship between the written scripture and notions of truth and reality. Most Mormons have no problem seeing the Book of Mormon as "the most correct book" while acknowledging its long history of revision and correction. They might be a little more startled by the wholesale rewrites of the revelations in the Doctrine and Covenants, but not startingly so.
I've met many Mormons over the years who refuse to see Mormon scriptures and history as literal. Everything is figurative, they tell me. One poster on FAIR used to say that Mormonism is simply one set of stories that people use to give their lives meaning.
But such an approach seems to me untenable within a religion that claims the literalness of its own history and origins. Prophets have denounced as blasphemy the idea that there were no Nephites or golden plates. There simply isn't room for those New Order Mormon types who believe in the church as based on inspired fiction.
Ironically, the search for a plausible literalism in Mormon origins has led to novel reinterpretations of the text of the Book of Mormon. Thus is born the Limited Geography Theory, the notion that the Nephites entered a land that was already inhabited, and other notions that turn the teachings of the prophets and apostles on their heads.
This constant reinvention can be a positive thing, as it allows Mormons to jettison outdated notions that should be discarded, but again it creates a tension with the idea of a literal Book of Mormon: the attempt to ground the book and its story in historical and scientific fact transfers the proof of the book from the realm of faith to one of rationalism and science. Such an approach forces a more literal reading, which in turn forces constant rereading in light of increasing scientific evidence.
So, we find two competing theories of existence in current apologetics: a belief in the literal, the real; and a belief that the real is fluid and depends on the way in which one approaches it. Sometimes I think that the real value of the "spiritual witness" is that it conveniently papers over this chasm of reality: it suggests that there is something even more real than the literal, so the constant reinvention of the text is merely an effort toward aligning it with the deeper reality of the spiritual. And since the witness is by nature subjective, it dispenses with the need for reproduceability. So the spirit makes things both literal and subjective.
But then again, we run into more trouble because this approach only papers over the fundamental problem: Mormonism posits a real and knowable truth, not just one that can be approached through a subjective witness. To borrow a phrase, a cognitive distortion cannot occur unless there is some cognition to distort; cognition presupposes something that can be known, something that is real.
And that is the central tension between Mormonism and its apologists: it is by nature a fundamentalist religion in that it asserts that its scriptures and history are real and literal. Take away a literal Book of Mormon, for example, and Mormonism no longer has many truth claims. And yet, some of its most ardent apologists find themselves rejecting that very literalness. In saving the village, they have had to destroy it first.
But even fundamentalists don't really experience some sort of cosmic reality; rather, they see life through the lens of Holy Writ, which they believe is reality itself. So, again paraphrasing Eagleton, even the most absurd parts of the scriptures, such as fishes swallowing men and a nonsensical Roman census, are taken as absolute truth because to suggest otherwise is to destroy what they see as the human link to reality: the literalness of the scriptures.
Mormons, I think, are far more aware of the relationship between the written scripture and notions of truth and reality. Most Mormons have no problem seeing the Book of Mormon as "the most correct book" while acknowledging its long history of revision and correction. They might be a little more startled by the wholesale rewrites of the revelations in the Doctrine and Covenants, but not startingly so.
I've met many Mormons over the years who refuse to see Mormon scriptures and history as literal. Everything is figurative, they tell me. One poster on FAIR used to say that Mormonism is simply one set of stories that people use to give their lives meaning.
But such an approach seems to me untenable within a religion that claims the literalness of its own history and origins. Prophets have denounced as blasphemy the idea that there were no Nephites or golden plates. There simply isn't room for those New Order Mormon types who believe in the church as based on inspired fiction.
Ironically, the search for a plausible literalism in Mormon origins has led to novel reinterpretations of the text of the Book of Mormon. Thus is born the Limited Geography Theory, the notion that the Nephites entered a land that was already inhabited, and other notions that turn the teachings of the prophets and apostles on their heads.
This constant reinvention can be a positive thing, as it allows Mormons to jettison outdated notions that should be discarded, but again it creates a tension with the idea of a literal Book of Mormon: the attempt to ground the book and its story in historical and scientific fact transfers the proof of the book from the realm of faith to one of rationalism and science. Such an approach forces a more literal reading, which in turn forces constant rereading in light of increasing scientific evidence.
So, we find two competing theories of existence in current apologetics: a belief in the literal, the real; and a belief that the real is fluid and depends on the way in which one approaches it. Sometimes I think that the real value of the "spiritual witness" is that it conveniently papers over this chasm of reality: it suggests that there is something even more real than the literal, so the constant reinvention of the text is merely an effort toward aligning it with the deeper reality of the spiritual. And since the witness is by nature subjective, it dispenses with the need for reproduceability. So the spirit makes things both literal and subjective.
But then again, we run into more trouble because this approach only papers over the fundamental problem: Mormonism posits a real and knowable truth, not just one that can be approached through a subjective witness. To borrow a phrase, a cognitive distortion cannot occur unless there is some cognition to distort; cognition presupposes something that can be known, something that is real.
And that is the central tension between Mormonism and its apologists: it is by nature a fundamentalist religion in that it asserts that its scriptures and history are real and literal. Take away a literal Book of Mormon, for example, and Mormonism no longer has many truth claims. And yet, some of its most ardent apologists find themselves rejecting that very literalness. In saving the village, they have had to destroy it first.