Sunday, July 26, 2015

The Ramble: On skepticism, questions, and faith

Over the past few years, I've thought quite a lot about spiritual questions, skepticism, and faith. This post is an effort to write out some thoughts about how I approach questions and doubts about religion and spirituality, and more specifically about the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  I expect that most that will read this are deeply familiar with the Church, and so I have used a lot of terminology that Mormons will understand without taking space to define terms.  To those who may read this that are not familiar with Mormon terminology, I apologize in advance, and encourage you to visit www.mormon.org to get the basics on anything you don’t understand, or you can contact me directly.

I also want to say upfront that this is quite long.  I do not think I could do it justice without taking up a fair bit of space.  I sincerely hope that it is worth taking the time to read.

With that brief intro, here goes:

The back-story

My entire life I have been filled with questions.  Jenn's family to this day pokes fun at me for always wondering about the world and how and why it works.  I view it, in all seriousness, as a gift from God to be curious by nature.  Very few things in the world fill me with as much excitement as digging in and really getting to the bottom of (almost) any question.

It was probably on my mission or shortly before it when I discovered that there are a myriad of questions about religion, the Church, and the gospel, and that it was okay and even enlightening to ask them.  I guess up until that point I had kind of had the mindset that whatever was taught by my parents, in Sunday school, or in seminary was just true and there wasn't anything deeper to understand.  I want to highlight here that I'm talking about asking questions, which is different from having doubts.  I simply wanted to know more about almost anything, from the trivial (did Laban have literally the ONLY set of scriptures in all of Jerusalem??) to the vital (why must faith precede hope?).  I've used these kinds of questions as my main method of studying the gospel for the past 15 years or so, and it has been extremely fulfilling and enriching.

Now, my profession as an academic is all about asking (and, hopefully, answering) questions as well.  But a big part of getting a Ph.D. is also learning to be something of a skeptic.  I would say that the default for most academics when they read or hear something new is to be skeptical first, to "lead with their unbelief," to borrow a phrase from Elder Holland.  I don't think this is necessarily bad, either.  Being critical and skeptical of yourself and others forces the researcher to explore every possibility and to be sure of something before promoting it too much.  This leads to better research overall.

It's natural, then, when you're getting a Ph.D., to start to become skeptical towards religion as well.  In fact, it almost feels disingenuous not to.  After spending all week doubting other's work, why is it okay to suddenly have faith on Sunday?  Shouldn't you put these critical reasoning skills to work in religion as well?

At first, these kinds of thoughts made me uneasy.  It seemed like a sure path to losing my testimony, which was the last thing I wanted.  So, I basically avoided them.  But you can only put those kinds of things on the shelf for so long; at some point you must confront them.

Two key insights

The short of it is that I'm still a firm believer.  I happily devote and dedicate myself to Christ and His teachings and His church, and in many ways I feel that my faith is stronger now than before, although it had to pass through some shakier times to get there.  I'm not going to chronicle that journey here, although I give two short examples below.  Instead, what I want to do is lay out two key insights that have helped me reconcile my professional and spiritual life, and see just how similar they really are.  These two ideas are my starting points for any doubt I might have about the Church.

1. We know almost nothing about almost everything.  This has been one of the most startling discoveries for me of the past 8 years.  While getting my undergraduate degree, everything I learned was presented as, "this is the way the world works."  It seemed that we knew SO MUCH about SO MANY things!  But that is a complete illusion that stems from the fact that undergrad classes are designed to give you a solid base, not to teach you what we don’t know.  In grad school, I first started to get a sense of the vast unexplored wilderness of the unknown of economics.  I realized that in economics at least, we know almost nothing.  For all we know, most of our economic policies might be as effective as bloodletting was to cure high blood pressure.  And then I realized that this is probably true in almost every field of inquiry.  Think of the things we've discovered in the last few hundred years!  Think of how hard it was to convince the skeptics in Copernicus' time that the sun and not the earth was at the center of the universe!  And then think of how wrong Copernicus was to think that the sun was at the center, when really we're in the outer rim of just our galaxy!  In all likelihood, we're way off in our understanding of most things that we "know," because we only know a small piece of the full picture.

This is true in spiritual matters as well.  For whatever reason, God has chosen to reveal very little to us in this life.  The Plan of Salvation, wonderful as it is, is pretty light on the details.  The scriptures have been interpreted (and, sometimes, misinterpreted) for centuries, and cultures and contexts have changed so dramatically that it's hard to know their exact meaning.  And all prophets in all ages have mostly spoken to us about a select few topics anyway (faith seems to be a popular one...must be important!).

This means that with anything that is unclear or hard to understand, there is a high likelihood that we don't have the whole picture.  In any disagreement between two "truths" it is not necessarily the case that one is right and one is wrong.  It could be that both are right, and we are missing more understanding that would make the pieces fit together.  It could be that both are wrong.  It could be that they are partially right and partially wrong.  We just don't know enough about most things to be able to rule very much out.  Both academic and spiritual learning are muddied by missing information, years of history, and limited mental and spiritual capacity.

2. All knowledge is based on faith. Because we know so little, with anything that we study we always have to start with faith.  Religious study usually starts with faith in God, or maybe even just a desire to believe in Him (Alma 32:27), and builds from there.  Nephi said that he didn't know the meaning of all things, but that he knew that God loves His children (1 Nephi 11:17).  That's a place to start, and then we can build from there.  We learn more by "experimenting on the word" and then observing the results.  But it all has to start with faith in something.

The interesting thing is that secular knowledge is exactly the same.  We know very little, and so we start with faith, and then go from there.  Of course, in secular learning we don't call it faith.  Instead, we usually call it an assumption or a conjecture.  But it comes down to the same thing.  For example, scientists start with the assumption that nature follows laws that can be described by mathematical formulas, and that these laws are constant.  A few hundred years ago, it wasn't a given that this was true.  Newton conjectured that gravity might be one of those laws and now, from many experiments we know that things on earth fall at an acceleration rate of about 9.81 m/s^2, so gravity must be a constant law.

The crazy thing is that even something that we understand as well as gravity doesn't seem to work all of the time.  A little less than two decades ago, it was discovered that our universe is expanding at an accelerating pace, exactly opposite of what gravity would predict.  That's like throwing an apple in the air and having it fly away from you faster and faster, rather than falling back down to earth.  It was completely unexpected - so much so that the scientists who discovered it thought that their data was wrong.  They've now won a Nobel Prize.

When this discovery was made, did physicists all throw up their hands and lose faith in the ability of mathematics to describe nature?  Did they reject gravity as a universal law?  Of course not!  Rather, they assumed that there was something else out there that they just didn't understand yet.  They still have faith in gravity and other physical laws because centuries of experience has taught us that eventually things will work out and will make sense, and that this is the best way to understand the physical world.

In my own field of study, I go on faith all the time.  All main economic principles are based on mathematical models of how people make decisions.  But, these economic models are approximations of reality.  We cannot prove them in the real world because the real world is far more complex than any model can capture.  That doesn’t mean that the models are worthless.  It just means they are light on the details.  Basically, I take it on faith that what the models say is true, or at least approximately true.  I then look for evidence using whatever methods I can to see if the evidence lines up.  Whether it does or it doesn’t, that is an opportunity to learn more and get closer to the truth.

A quick example: a basic principle of economics is that free markets will generally lead to more economic prosperity.  I could spend all of my time running around saying, “you can’t prove that!”  And, it’s true, we can’t.  But if I waited for 100% proof, I would never be able to move from the basic idea that free markets are efficient to anything more complex or nuanced, such as the idea that free markets are efficient but only if contracts can be enforced.  Basically, I start with the idea that free markets are good, look around at the evidence I do have which is heavily on that side, and move on to the next thing.  My faith, in spite of the fact that something isn’t proven 100%, allows me to progress in knowledge and understanding.

Bringing it all together

To sum up: we don’t know very much about most things, and because of that all knowledge is based on faith.  Therefore, when I’m faced with something that goes against what I used to believe, it doesn’t necessarily have to destroy everything I used to know.  I first have to acknowledge that I don’t have complete information, and so making all the pieces fit perfectly together just isn’t going to happen right now.  And then, I remember that this new piece of information is based on faith, as is my old information, so it’s not a competition between science and faith. 

That doesn’t mean that I can or should ignore new pieces of evidence.  That is blind faith, and I don’t want to have blind faith in either science or religion.  Rather, when some new piece of information comes along, I weigh it as new evidence to go along with all of the old evidence I have on some topic.  I try to see how it might fit in, and I remember that none of the evidence is exactly perfect, so I should not be so dogmatic and close-minded as to simply reject things out of hand.

I feel like so often, when something challenges someone’s worldview, they feel like they either have to hold fast to their old views or completely abandon them for the new ones.  Knowledge and learning is line upon line!  Little by little!  Right now we “see through a glass, darkly” (1 Cor. 13:12), not in clean black and white.  Because of that, I think we should be cautious about allowing a single thing to dramatically alter our beliefs.

Example 1: Genetic evidence and the Book of Mormon

I have given a couple of examples above of cases where scientific beliefs are based on faith and how new information does not necessarily destroy those beliefs.  I want to share also a couple of examples of how I have dealt with questions and doubts about spiritual matters as well.

The first is a straightforward conflict between what science tells us and what religion tells us.  On the one hand, the Book of Mormon claims that at least some of the ancestors of the Native American people were from the Middle East.  Meanwhile, our best genetic evidence shows that Native Americans are most closely related to people from East Asia, leading to a theory that they crossed over to the Americas via a land bridge near present-day Alaska.

There is a conflict here, so how do I deal with it?  First, I have to remember that scientific evidence is not irrefutable.  Scientific findings get overturned all the time, so I should not just abandon my faith in the Book of Mormon because of this apparent conflict.  Indeed, my limited understanding is that our best genetic evidence is based on precious few sets of DNA from centuries ago, combined with complicated models of how that DNA might evolve over time.  Second, I also remember that Mormon himself wrote that he wasn’t able to write even 1/100th of the things that occurred during their time.  We don’t have the full picture in the Book of Mormon, and maybe some of the pieces that would help reconcile these two pieces of information are simply missing right now.  For example, we don’t know what other groups of people lived in the Americas that the Nephites and Lamanites came into contact with.

Thus, I go on what I know: I know that I have no explanation for the Book of Mormon other than Joseph Smith being an absolute genius such as the world has never seen, or that it is from God. I know that when I live by its teachings I am happy and fulfilled, and that when I mess up I am not. I know that I have felt for myself the Spirit testifying that it is true, and that many others whom I respect and love have felt the same.  I take all of this evidence, and the small conflicts about genetics don’t trouble me too much because I recognize that we lack complete information on those issues. Thus, I continue to believe that the Book of Mormon is from God, and then I wait for more information.

It turns out that in this case, a small bit of further information has come.  A couple of years ago National Geographic published an article about a “great surprise:” new evidence from the genome of a 24,000-year-old Siberian youth suggests that up to 1/3rd of Native American genes are of Western Eurasian descent, rather than entirely from East Asians as previously believed.  Thus, it now appears entirely reasonable to assume that at least some ancestors of the Native Americans were from the Middle East.

Again, this new piece of information is just a piece of evidence!  It may switch again, and again, as we learn more.  Thus, it does not fully confirm or deny the story in the Book of Mormon; it just sways things back in the direction of my own beliefs.  Most importantly, however, it demonstrates how things that we “know” will change as new things come to light.

Example 2: Learning more of Joseph Smith’s history

As with most people that grow up as members of the Church, I have always revered Joseph Smith as a man of God and the prophet who restored the gospel.  I still do.  But I think that I was taught a rather glossed-over version of his history in my youth, mostly because that’s the history that Church materials present.  (I think this is slowly changing, which I applaud!)

Thus, it was a bit of a shock to learn more about his past in the small bit of reading I have done about him outside of the standard Church materials.  For instance, Rough Stone Rolling tells of him looking into a hat to translate the Gold Plates, which was something I had never heard before in my life.  I have also learned of him going to look for gold in various places, and other things that he did in setting up the Church that appear to be mistakes or errors of judgment (such his failed financial ventures). 

This challenged my worldview of Joseph Smith, whom I had envisioned as a near-perfect man.  The question is: what do I do with this new information?  The answer is that it depends a lot on how I approach it.  If I were starting from a position of not believing that Joseph Smith was a prophet, and looking for confirming evidence of that, I could probably take these things that way, and it would weaken or even destroy my faith.

But I can also take this same evidence and use it to further cement my faith that Joseph Smith was a prophet.  Specifically, instead of asking, “How does this show that Joseph Smith was not a prophet?” I instead ask, “How does this change what I know about prophets?”  Notice that I’m taking all of my previous knowledge and faith and beliefs about Joseph Smith, and using it as a starting point, just like I do when I study economics.  When approaching the question from this angle, the new information is enlightening, not faith-destroying.  If you think about it, the fact that Joseph Smith looked into a hat isn’t any weirder than him looking into the Urim and Thumminm.  Is it that odd that he went looking for gold, given all of the gold rushes we know about in California, South Dakota, the Yukon, etc.?  Not really.  Rather, I now better understand that the Lord works with prophets as real men, who might feel more comfortable looking into a hat or who might be easily swayed by tales of gold.  I think of how often the Lord has let me fail and mess up, even in my church calling, and I understand that it is no different even for a man of Joseph Smith’s stature.  In fact, learning this history has increased my appreciation of what God can do with prophets, because I marvel even more at the temples, the Book of Mormon, the Doctrine and Covenants, and all of the other things instituted through an imperfect man. 

What I believe

Hopefully, those two examples give small illustrations of how my faith evolves as I ask questions and encounter new information.  I want to say clearly that I believe that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the true church.  I believe this not because I have a perfect knowledge of all things, but because all of the evidence in my life to this point tells me that there is a God who loves me, and that when I live His commandments I am happier and my life is better.  Some of that evidence is observational and scientific, and of course a lot of it is based on my own personal spiritual experiences  One of the difficult things about that spiritual knowledge is that each person needs to have their own experiences with the Spirit.  I cannot give you the data and let you do the analysis as I could with a hard science.  But that doesn’t make it less true or less important!  It just means that others have to find that evidence for themselves.

By recognizing that faith is not a perfect knowledge, I also recognize that my faith and beliefs are (and should be!) evolving and changing as I learn more.  That process has been an enlightening and uplifting one as long as I have been humble and prayerful.  It can also be frustrating, as it means that I always have many open questions that I simply have to put on the shelf and wait for an answer. But I believe that the Lord is willing to pour down knowledge (see D&C 121:33) as soon as I am ready for it.  I know that as I go through that process, my light slowly becomes “brighter and brighter until the perfect day.” (D&C 50:24).


That’s what I believe. 

6 comments:

alisquire said...

I love this. Well done!

Jacob said...

Ben,

I’m so glad The Ramble is back!! I read it Monday morning and I have been thinking about it all week. As you and I have talked about a lot, our faith journeys have lead us to different places. Even though we are in different places, I agreed with many of the things that you wrote. However, there were a couple of things that I disagreed on that I would like to get your thoughts about.

You wrote that secular and religious knowledge are similar in the sense that they both begin with faith. I would agree that this is the case. All inquiry begins with assumptions, conjecture, or a theory. However, I would argue that even though secular and religious knowledge are both based on assumptions, there are stark differences between the assumptions.

The first difference I see between the two is in what is deemed important. I would argue that in religion the individual is important, whereas in science the idea is important. For example, in religion (and in Mormonism in particular) emphasis is placed on an individual. Mormonism rests on the assumption that Jesus Christ is Divine and that Joseph Smith and Thomas Monson are prophets. In science, I would argue that the idea is more important than the individual. People become invested in proving (or disproving) gravity or evolution; but the individual who had that idea is less important.

This is evident in how we remember these people. I have often sang hymns praising Jesus, Joseph Smith, or Thomas Monson, but never in any of my academic pursuits have I been taught to emotionally invest in Darwin or Newton, or to sing hymns praising them. Basically, my thought is that assumptions put forth in religion are important because a person that is considered to have divine authority says them. Whereas in science, an assumption is important because there is repetitive evidence that shows support for the assumption. Religion values the person, science values the idea.

Jacob said...

The second difference I see between scientific and religious assumptions are the penalties associated with accepting evidence that contradicts the assumptions. I would argue that there are more severe consequences in religion for a person that accepts evidences that runs contrary to religious assumptions than there are for people who accept evidence that runs contrary to scientific assumption. In fact, when we have enough evidence to cast aside an old scientific assumption with a new assumption that better explains the evidence, we use a phrase that has a positive (or at least neutral) connotation – paradigm shift. When a religious person accepts evidence that runs contrary to religious assumptions, we use negatively charged words such as heathen, apostate, or inactive.

I think an example you used in The Ramble supports this. You wrote about the scientists that found data that was contrary to the assumptions of Newton’s law of gravity. When those scientists found that the universe was expanding, they didn’t believe it at first, and my guess is that the broader scientific community pushed back against those findings. However, once their findings had been replicated by others, these scientists were awarded the Nobel Prize. That isn’t the case with findings or data that contradict religious assumptions. Religion is set up to discourage people from finding contrary evidence. For example, if a Mormon was to find evidence that suggested that Joseph Smith wasn’t a prophet, it might be hard to accept that evidence because there are many spiritual and social consequences that would follow. Spiritual consequences could include missing out on a forever family, not getting into the celestial kingdom, and excommunication. Social consequences could include losing familial, spousal, and communal support. These consequences, however real or imagined, might lead that person to reject important evidence because of fear.

Having said all of that, I wanted to get your thoughts on two questions:
1) Would you agree that religious assumption and secular/scientific assumptions are different as I laid out or would you describe the difference differently?
2) How do you think that the meaning/consequences attached to your religious assumptions influences or effects your journey of faith?

Happy Ramblings!

Brittany said...

Well, I am extremely jealous about the epic email thread I assume is going on between you and Jacob right now. Can we please all get together and have this talk in real life some day?

I'm really interested in your answers to Jacob's questions. I also have a question of my own. I grew up learning about stuff like DNA and the stone in the hat from my dad, who was also always asking the same questions. At the time, it was impossible to get information like that from the church, so he read a lot of Sunstone, I think. Anyway, while now I find it super problematic that the church taught such a watered-down version of church history to me, I never really struggled with historical questions or inconsistencies, because like you I figured out how to answer them by assuming we just don't know all the answers. I learned to believe wholeheartedly in Truth-with-a-capital-T, and I figured we were all only seeing through a glass darkly. Seer stones and the historicity of the BoM never seemed to hurt me or my testimony very much, either growing up or as a young adult. (Of course that's just me - I do not mean to gloss over the very real pain these particular questions cause so many people).

What caused the greatest doubts and concerns in my mind and my heart, and what eventually led me away from the church, was the actual harm I felt like the church was causing people through culture and doctrine and religious practice. I was (and am) particularly bothered by the doctrine concerning women and the LGBTQIA+ community, especially with regards to temple ordinances. You'll remember my struggle as I was transitioning out of the church. I won't go into too much detail here, but my question is this: have your doubts or questions ever had anything to do with the hurt or pain doctrine causes and has caused to marginalized or oppressed groups? With inequality and injustice, both here and in the eternities? If so, how do you reconcile that? "We don't know everything" felt particularly Panglossian to me in the presence of suffering I've seen and felt in the church because of these doctrines,

I'm not asking to criticize, but because I genuinely want to know. I truly wish I had found answers that let me stay in the church.

As always, love the Ramble. And, as always, I love and respect all of you. So grateful that you are all in my life!

Brittany said...

PS I know that you're in Vienna and expecting a baby, etcetera etcetera, so if this answer gets delayed until we all get to hang out in person, no worries :)

Mal said...

Thanks for this, Ben. It is so helpful to hear other peoples questions and how they've chosen to reconcile them. Sometimes--a lot of the time--it feels like questions are not welcomed. We are trained to bear testimony and lead with "I know." But it may be a healthier exercise to also say, "I find this troubling." Example: church leaders recently released a formal statement which condoned public support of same-sex marriage by individual church members. Which led me to wonder how many church members privately agreed with equal marriage rights but had been afraid to publicize their support? Afraid of retribution? Afraid to be yanked from their church callings? Afraid that they were wrong? Afraid that their faith wasn't enough to move mountains? How long were these fears perpetuated because there was no place in church meetings for members to say to each other, "I find this holy war against gay marriage troubling"? And for those brave souls who did say it in their church meetings, how many other church members did not know how to react? I am heartened to see that the church has attempted to be more transparent about its history. But we still struggle to acknowledge our own flaws. The entire Joseph Smith narrative begins with a question. We should all be more comfortable with our questions. We should be more supportive of each other's questions. There are many things that I have found in the church that I love. There are things that trouble me. I know a lot of people say that if you're not 100% in, get out. But I feel more inclined to stay and do what I can to change "stumbling blocks into stepping stones." I am here trying to hold on to the things that I love and trying to be more open about the things that trouble me. It's hard! I'm not very good at either one. Thank you for your example and your candor.