My topic today is “Come unto Christ through repentance.” I feel like the world’s leading authority on the subject. However, I feel this way because of how the Lord has blessed my life when I repent. I would hope that we all feel that we are each experts on the topic of repentance.
I want to repent so that I can enjoy the companionship of the Spirit, and therefore be close to God. Sometimes, I am asked the question: “Oh, you went to Taiwan on you mission! How was that?” I don’t know how it was. I’ve never been anywhere else on a mission. “How is being a member of the Church?” I don’t know. I’ve never not been a member. But, I can ask “Oh, you have the Spirit with you! How’s that?” Well, let me tell you... I’ve been without the Spirit before, and it is not pleasant. When I don’t have the Spirit, I feel lost and empty. I feel without purpose and apathetic. I feel disconcertingly content. I feel like I’ve done enough and now the universe owes me.
But when the Spirit is with me, I feel comfortable, as Enos did when testified of the following: “Whatsoever thing ye shall ask in faith, believing that ye shall receive in the name of Christ, ye shall receive it. And I [Enos] had faith... And I knew [the preservation and coming forth of the scriptures] would be according to the covenant which [God] had made; wherefore my soul did rest.” When I have the Spirit, I am clear about what the Lord wants me to do. I remember my covenants and the protection and peace they bring, like Enos did. I realize my responsibility to other people. That responsibility, though, is filtered through my relationship with my Savior: my foremost responsibility is to the Savior. When I have the Spirit, I am close to God.
President Packer shares with us his testimony of repentance: “I would find no peace, neither happiness, nor safety, in a world without repentance. I do not know what I should do if there were no way for me to erase my mistakes. The agony would be more than I could bear.” I invite you to ask yourself: Should I feel this way? If yes, (and, by the way, you should feel this way.) then do I feel this way? How can you appreciate and respect your sins as much as President Packer does? Are you afraid to not repent? Does the thought of unforgiveable sin bring thoughts of unbearable agony? Would you feel lost and hopeless without repentance? Do you currently find peace, happiness, and safety when you haven’t repented? What if you took your own sins that seriously? How would you be changed?
I want to emphasize the passiveness of that change; I emphasize that it is not us who changes ourselves. We can change only through the grace and gift of the Atonement. We change only when we completely, 100% rely on the Lord to carry us through. And He will do just that, as long as we allow Him through our obedience. He won’t lose. Doctrine and Covenants 3:3 states: “Remember, remember that it is not the work of God that is frustrated, but the work of men.” Remember, also, that God cannot excuse my sin, but He knows I am willing to follow him, so He will forgive my sin.
Sometimes we try to take back control of our lives; of our sins; which ironically, yet not surprisingly, leads us to lose control. We may say “Oh, I can handle it. It’s not that big of a deal. I can be rude to others or cheat or flirt with the edge of morality because I already have a strong testimony. After all, I go to church and read scriptures and pray. I’m entitled to a little fun and excitement.” If you have ever felt this way, Elder Maxwell gave you the following guidance: “Our reluctance to give away all our sins, thinking, instead, that a down payment will do keeps us from knowing and love God more. (Fall Conf. 2002)”
Can you see how we may let our temptations get out of hand, literally the most capable of hands—Christ’s hands? The poetic irony is that the holes in those hands are exactly what make them so capable to hold our pains and temptations at bay. Those holes make it possible for Christ to ‘bear our griefs and carry our sorrows.’ But, do we see those holes as something else—signs of him being stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted (Isaiah 53:4)? I hope, Hope, brothers and sisters, that we don’t see His majestic state as our Savior in the garden and on the cross and therefore pity Him, nor pity ourselves. I testify that Christ is the conqueror, and in no measure the coward. If He truly suffered and bled the way that the scriptures say he did, then we have the opportunity to say “yes” to the question: “Will we trust the Lord amid a perplexing trial for which we have no easy explanation? Do we understand—really comprehend—that Jesus knows and understands when we are stressed and perplexed? (Maxwell, Fall ’95)”
II.
Christ means “Savior.” His most important trait is the Atonement, itself. When we think of Christ, our thoughts and hearts should immediately turn toward those last few precious hours of His life: in the garden, and on the cross.
What does it mean to truly know a person? Are you defined and encapsulated by your preferences? If I know your major in school or your favorite color, your favorite food or movie or sports team or defensive scheme; or even your favorite passage of scripture, will I know who you are? What about shared experiences? Will that give me a clear insight to your individualized human nature? How many of us have not just walked one mile in the pioneers shoes, but 10 or 15 or 25 miles on handcart treks, yet we still seem to learn more about our ancestors through genealogy and reading their journals and the journals of their loved ones?
I have believed for a long time that our selves, our individual beings, the fabric of who we are, are comprised of that which the Lord deems the most important: our relationship with other people. Is that not the central focus of the Plan of Salvation, our family relationships? Preach My Gospel states that “Because families are ordained of God, they are the most important social unit in time and eternity.” The Savior invites the rich ruler, someone who has kept all the commandments and desires to have eternal life, to leave his possessions and follow Jesus Christ, his elder brother and Redeemer. Here, the Savior is de-emphasizing the man’s relationship with his riches and possessions, and emphasizing the man’s relationship with Christ. Eternal life is to know Christ and to follow Christ.
Following Christ is relatively simple and straight forward. From each of our home teaching visits this month, we know that obedience is the way that we follow Christ. I have been blessed with a strong testimony of obedience, in large part because of the home teaching my companion and I have done and the home teaching that I have received this month.
However, compared to following Him, knowing Christ can be a bit more elusive. We have a classic first impression model of getting to know someone for the first time by asking the person’s name, preferences, major in school, perhaps and plans for the future. What if we asked God these questions?
We don’t know what His favorite food is. We don’t know his favorite color, or what his major in school was. But do we care? The questions that we typically ask of each other when we first meet would have a different connotation all together with the Savior. What if we asked the Lord his name? After all, he has many, and each name is descriptive of His relationship with us: Prince of Peace, our peace; The Life, the Light, and the Way, our life, our light, our way; even ‘Savior’ is reflexive of our own salvation. Where are you from? (pause) How many brothers and sister do you have? (pause) What’s new in your life? (pause) How did your weekend go? (Could you imagine Mary Magdalene asking that question the morning after the Resurrection?)
Everything Jesus Christ has done is for us. We are his number-one priority. Therefore, to know Him is to do the same as he did: make our fellow brothers and sisters our number-one priority. Serve others with unbound charity. Help them find the peace that you have through honest introspection of their lives; which, if done with real intent, will undoubtedly lead them to repent.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Monday, April 13, 2009
Personal Essay For My Juv. Delinquency Class
TJ was the one that all the leaders were worried about. Well, I had good leaders. Hopefully they were worried about all of us. But TJ, apparently, was ‘on the margin,’ whatever that means. He would come to church, fairly regularly. He would even wear a white shirt and tie—with the sagging blue jeans and skater shoes to round out the ensemble. His hair, not to be out done, made its own statement in a way not completely dissimilar to the statement being made just below it. It was long, but not too long. It was brushed over to one side in a way that could not have been styled passively, yet didn’t scream “I obsess about how I look.” TJ made me think that he cared enough to give the impression that he doesn’t care. But I knew better. I knew enough that I didn’t worry about him very much. Chalk it up to naiveté or sophomoric apathy on my part if you want; but looking back on my interactions with TJ, he was one who did not make me feel like I was being judged or that certain expectations were not being met. I saw that he was an OK kid wanting to be trusted with his own life. I saw that through how he treated me. It was almost a case of one social misfit sympathizing with another social misfit.
To describe my high-school self as a social misfit may be the most irresponsible and ridiculous way to use the word—from an outsider’s point of view, anyway. In retrospect, I was just fine and lacked a real reason to be disappointed in my high school experience. But I felt on the bubble. I felt like a misfit. I bring my own experience up in order to set a kind of perspective on what kind of guy I saw TJ to be. He may have been marginalized, but he wore it well. I fit in that ever-broadening, ever-redefined margin along with TJ, but I didn’t like it like he did. I didn’t embrace it like he did. I was friends, acquaintances really, with the popular, rich, funny kids during school. But Friday afternoon hit, and there was only one, very residential place to find me until Sunday morning when church beckoned, and then Monday morning, when early-morning seminary summoned. What’s more? My high school had release time, but I still went to the early-morning section! Why? Because choir and orchestra met at specific times of the day; not leaving my English, Math, and Social Studies classes much wiggle room. Yeah, I could have worked it out so that I did not force myself into a bleak situation that left me with but one option. But early-morning seminary kids build a connection unlike other early-morning classes could. I wanted to fit in somewhere, and nothing secures you a niche like have a sob story about early seminary to whine about; drawing attention to yourself in the process, of course.
Really, TJ and I were not all that different, we just had different interests. He had drugs. I had the cello. You may or may not see immediately the similarity between the two. His drugs were fulfilling the same social need that my cello was. (‘K, they were just cigarettes. But I was going for the shock value. Did it work?) We were both acting out, just in a little different of ways. He most likely never did any of the hard stuff. Sure, a pack of cigs and a forty of beer were completely outside my realm of acceptable behavior. But even though he had plenty of opportunities to go farther, (the people he hung around certainly did go farther) his delinquency seemed to hold steady at the cigarettes and beer culture. He would step outside of that every once in a while to come to church and play teachers basketball. He still came on our Young Men’s lake trips; even the occasional Wednesday night activity. He was never that bad.
On the other, yet similar hand, I played the cello. I associated with the upper-echelons of high school-aged musicians in Arizona. I can’t say high school musicians because some of them were so good, they didn’t have time for high school. They were too busy with music. Even though I was around them a lot, I never was truly one of them. I was the worst of the best; while TJ was the best of the worst. We both wanted to be extreme, but we just could not commit ourselves to our respective extremity. Ours was a kind of reluctant delinquency. “I’ll show you,” we both seemed to say to the moderate middle. “I’ll show you that I can be hard core if I wanted to, but I choose to not be.” Hard core? Really? Sure. But hardcore in name, and just barely enough effort to secure that name, only.
My group looked down on his group, and his group resented my group. Yet when we were around each other and had reason to talk to each other, we could connect. Here I was, the preppy kid without a cause; and there he was, the rebel without a cause. Why did I get dressed up for church and go to mutual every week and participate in a lot of different activities like sports and music without ever really sinking my teeth into them? I don’t know. Maybe I will just revert to the cliché answer that I was looking for acceptance, and convenient acceptance, nonetheless. I was trying to do just the bare minimum to gain the title “preppy.” On the other hand, why did TJ come to church often and wear a shirt and tie and stay involved with school, but only among the punk, skater group; all the while putting out the impression that he could fall off the cliff any time, but never quite going all the way? Further establishing the cliché, he may have also been looking for acceptance, among a myriad of other possible reasons. Funny how, even about yourself, you never know 100% why someone did something.
II. Background
TJ lived down the street from me. We both lived in the same neighborhood for a while; maybe five or six years. It’s not like he got transplanted into a foster family to stay for a while, or that he was an outsider; our neighborhoods were literally the same. So you can’t say that we were coming from completely separate worlds or something. This leads me to wonder why we did act so differently. It may have been partly because Heritage Street couldn’t hold us. If we revisit the “extreme” theme, we see that the neighborhood actually did not have a huge impact on either of us. Heritage Street didn’t need to hold me. I was content being a good kid at home. My parents moved our family to that neighborhood to cut out any distraction to their parenting; actually quite a good move on their part. But I probably would not have been much different in any other neighborhood. As for TJ, Heritage Street had no interest in keeping him around. We on Heritage Street prided ourselves on being so tight-knit despite our lack of gated-communityness. (Again I include as a resident of the neighborhood rather than a part of the neighborhood.) Because TJ was not an asset to the tight-knit nature of the neighborhood, he couldn’t strengthen it. Therefore, the neighborhood didn’t need him, so it didn’t do anything for him. Or so he felt. I don’t really believe that Heritage Street residents were so stratifying. But I believe that’s how it was perceived, especially by TJ.
Because we really did have leaders who were not overly judgmental, and in an effort to not be too extreme, TJ was not a stranger. We had one leader, Richard, who was especially welcoming and forgiving, but not in a Young-Women kind of way. No cookies changed hands, but heart-felt talks about what was going on certainly took place. Of course Richard’s experience with Anasazi only helped us. Anasazi is a high-adventure survival camp for troubled youth, and Richard had been a counselor. He didn’t coddle us, but he didn’t just let us go, either. Although he told us from the beginning, “When Bishop gave me this calling, he just wanted me to keep you guys the same. I don’t need to save any of you;” he still cared about us. The fact that I’m talking about Richard now is something of a tribute to his very positive influence on all of us; from the kid that everyone else worried (TJ), to the preppy kid who never got into trouble (me).
I remember Richard saying things about TJ like “I really like that kid,” or “TJ is so cool.” TJ was a huge fan of the band Metallica, and Richard had been to a bunch of Metallica concerts and knew all about the band. Richard, apparently, had something of a delinquent past, same as TJ. But he had turned around. They even had similar body-types. They had a lot in common. One sight that will stay with me for a long time is that of Richard and TJ sitting on folding chairs in the sand bank on Lake Powell during a Young Men’s boating trip. TJ had blown up at one of the other boys and stormed off after an f-word or two. Having built a strong relationship with him already, Richard went immediately over and spoke with him for a while. I don’t know what was said, of course. But I do remember their demeanor. I hadn’t seen TJ quite so calm and open as when I saw him and Richard talk it out. That scene is among a very few that I feel has really influenced my attitude toward other people. I don’t freak out about a member whom I home-teach not coming to church; and I didn’t take it personally when an investigator didn’t come to a meeting. These are silly things to be upset about, I feel. There are other problems that are more of an issue when someone doesn’t come to Family Home Evening than simply not coming to Family Home Evening. In TJ’s case, the “problem” or “issue” or “challenge” or whatever was something other than his long hair or skater shoes at church. And Richard realized that.
III. Recommendations
I can’t say much about TJ’s home life. His parents were active in the church and they provided a safe living environment. TJ’s father was in the piano business. He restored and tuned pianos, and TJ helped out with that. I never saw them fight with each other. From what I saw, there wasn’t much more for TJ’s parents to do. However, I saw how my leaders treated him, and I do not feel regretful about it. I think they did a fantastic job. We had a few boys in my Young Men’s group who were not model church members. They kept their hair long or wore their pants sagging a bit, but that did not make them bad people. I have seen, however, undue pressure put on similar boys in other wards. Their leaders guilted them into fitting the stereotypical bill of an LDS adolescent. Thankfully, my leaders never expected one of us to show up on the latest “For the Strength of Youth” pamphlet. That relieved them of undue, unfitting expectations. We had pressure enough, TJ included, to do better. Richard and the other leaders were truly on our side and gave us whatever support we needed.
TJ moved into the ward when he was about 13 or 14 from a much more delinquent-prone neighborhood. I’m sure that’s how his behavior got started. But it really didn’t get worse once he moved. He just hovered around the same level of disobedience. Perhaps, though, the single greatest part of the LDS Church’s organization is the positive male presence. TJ had a dad who was fulfilling his divine appointment as father. He had a caring bishop, an understanding Young Men’s leader, two home teachers at his disposal, a faithful Sunday School teachers, and a handful of friends’ fathers. TJ’s weekly involvement in the church networked him to half a dozen grown male mentors.
This masculine resource can be made available through other means besides just church programs. Male public school teachers should have training and helped to realize their role as model examples of responsibility. Boys PE in junior high comes with benefits far surpassing physical fitness. It is a perfect opportunity for coaches to teach skills and principles beyond push-ups and dodge ball to boys who are just coming to realize the emotional differences between men and women. I would hope that all male teachers realize similar opportunities, no matter the prescribed curriculum of their discipline. I would hope they realize that “learning across the curriculum” does not simply mean writing essays for math class. While it wasn’t public school teachers who helped TJ, the principle of example can be extended to anyone with prolonged exposure with juveniles.
To describe my high-school self as a social misfit may be the most irresponsible and ridiculous way to use the word—from an outsider’s point of view, anyway. In retrospect, I was just fine and lacked a real reason to be disappointed in my high school experience. But I felt on the bubble. I felt like a misfit. I bring my own experience up in order to set a kind of perspective on what kind of guy I saw TJ to be. He may have been marginalized, but he wore it well. I fit in that ever-broadening, ever-redefined margin along with TJ, but I didn’t like it like he did. I didn’t embrace it like he did. I was friends, acquaintances really, with the popular, rich, funny kids during school. But Friday afternoon hit, and there was only one, very residential place to find me until Sunday morning when church beckoned, and then Monday morning, when early-morning seminary summoned. What’s more? My high school had release time, but I still went to the early-morning section! Why? Because choir and orchestra met at specific times of the day; not leaving my English, Math, and Social Studies classes much wiggle room. Yeah, I could have worked it out so that I did not force myself into a bleak situation that left me with but one option. But early-morning seminary kids build a connection unlike other early-morning classes could. I wanted to fit in somewhere, and nothing secures you a niche like have a sob story about early seminary to whine about; drawing attention to yourself in the process, of course.
Really, TJ and I were not all that different, we just had different interests. He had drugs. I had the cello. You may or may not see immediately the similarity between the two. His drugs were fulfilling the same social need that my cello was. (‘K, they were just cigarettes. But I was going for the shock value. Did it work?) We were both acting out, just in a little different of ways. He most likely never did any of the hard stuff. Sure, a pack of cigs and a forty of beer were completely outside my realm of acceptable behavior. But even though he had plenty of opportunities to go farther, (the people he hung around certainly did go farther) his delinquency seemed to hold steady at the cigarettes and beer culture. He would step outside of that every once in a while to come to church and play teachers basketball. He still came on our Young Men’s lake trips; even the occasional Wednesday night activity. He was never that bad.
On the other, yet similar hand, I played the cello. I associated with the upper-echelons of high school-aged musicians in Arizona. I can’t say high school musicians because some of them were so good, they didn’t have time for high school. They were too busy with music. Even though I was around them a lot, I never was truly one of them. I was the worst of the best; while TJ was the best of the worst. We both wanted to be extreme, but we just could not commit ourselves to our respective extremity. Ours was a kind of reluctant delinquency. “I’ll show you,” we both seemed to say to the moderate middle. “I’ll show you that I can be hard core if I wanted to, but I choose to not be.” Hard core? Really? Sure. But hardcore in name, and just barely enough effort to secure that name, only.
My group looked down on his group, and his group resented my group. Yet when we were around each other and had reason to talk to each other, we could connect. Here I was, the preppy kid without a cause; and there he was, the rebel without a cause. Why did I get dressed up for church and go to mutual every week and participate in a lot of different activities like sports and music without ever really sinking my teeth into them? I don’t know. Maybe I will just revert to the cliché answer that I was looking for acceptance, and convenient acceptance, nonetheless. I was trying to do just the bare minimum to gain the title “preppy.” On the other hand, why did TJ come to church often and wear a shirt and tie and stay involved with school, but only among the punk, skater group; all the while putting out the impression that he could fall off the cliff any time, but never quite going all the way? Further establishing the cliché, he may have also been looking for acceptance, among a myriad of other possible reasons. Funny how, even about yourself, you never know 100% why someone did something.
II. Background
TJ lived down the street from me. We both lived in the same neighborhood for a while; maybe five or six years. It’s not like he got transplanted into a foster family to stay for a while, or that he was an outsider; our neighborhoods were literally the same. So you can’t say that we were coming from completely separate worlds or something. This leads me to wonder why we did act so differently. It may have been partly because Heritage Street couldn’t hold us. If we revisit the “extreme” theme, we see that the neighborhood actually did not have a huge impact on either of us. Heritage Street didn’t need to hold me. I was content being a good kid at home. My parents moved our family to that neighborhood to cut out any distraction to their parenting; actually quite a good move on their part. But I probably would not have been much different in any other neighborhood. As for TJ, Heritage Street had no interest in keeping him around. We on Heritage Street prided ourselves on being so tight-knit despite our lack of gated-communityness. (Again I include as a resident of the neighborhood rather than a part of the neighborhood.) Because TJ was not an asset to the tight-knit nature of the neighborhood, he couldn’t strengthen it. Therefore, the neighborhood didn’t need him, so it didn’t do anything for him. Or so he felt. I don’t really believe that Heritage Street residents were so stratifying. But I believe that’s how it was perceived, especially by TJ.
Because we really did have leaders who were not overly judgmental, and in an effort to not be too extreme, TJ was not a stranger. We had one leader, Richard, who was especially welcoming and forgiving, but not in a Young-Women kind of way. No cookies changed hands, but heart-felt talks about what was going on certainly took place. Of course Richard’s experience with Anasazi only helped us. Anasazi is a high-adventure survival camp for troubled youth, and Richard had been a counselor. He didn’t coddle us, but he didn’t just let us go, either. Although he told us from the beginning, “When Bishop gave me this calling, he just wanted me to keep you guys the same. I don’t need to save any of you;” he still cared about us. The fact that I’m talking about Richard now is something of a tribute to his very positive influence on all of us; from the kid that everyone else worried (TJ), to the preppy kid who never got into trouble (me).
I remember Richard saying things about TJ like “I really like that kid,” or “TJ is so cool.” TJ was a huge fan of the band Metallica, and Richard had been to a bunch of Metallica concerts and knew all about the band. Richard, apparently, had something of a delinquent past, same as TJ. But he had turned around. They even had similar body-types. They had a lot in common. One sight that will stay with me for a long time is that of Richard and TJ sitting on folding chairs in the sand bank on Lake Powell during a Young Men’s boating trip. TJ had blown up at one of the other boys and stormed off after an f-word or two. Having built a strong relationship with him already, Richard went immediately over and spoke with him for a while. I don’t know what was said, of course. But I do remember their demeanor. I hadn’t seen TJ quite so calm and open as when I saw him and Richard talk it out. That scene is among a very few that I feel has really influenced my attitude toward other people. I don’t freak out about a member whom I home-teach not coming to church; and I didn’t take it personally when an investigator didn’t come to a meeting. These are silly things to be upset about, I feel. There are other problems that are more of an issue when someone doesn’t come to Family Home Evening than simply not coming to Family Home Evening. In TJ’s case, the “problem” or “issue” or “challenge” or whatever was something other than his long hair or skater shoes at church. And Richard realized that.
III. Recommendations
I can’t say much about TJ’s home life. His parents were active in the church and they provided a safe living environment. TJ’s father was in the piano business. He restored and tuned pianos, and TJ helped out with that. I never saw them fight with each other. From what I saw, there wasn’t much more for TJ’s parents to do. However, I saw how my leaders treated him, and I do not feel regretful about it. I think they did a fantastic job. We had a few boys in my Young Men’s group who were not model church members. They kept their hair long or wore their pants sagging a bit, but that did not make them bad people. I have seen, however, undue pressure put on similar boys in other wards. Their leaders guilted them into fitting the stereotypical bill of an LDS adolescent. Thankfully, my leaders never expected one of us to show up on the latest “For the Strength of Youth” pamphlet. That relieved them of undue, unfitting expectations. We had pressure enough, TJ included, to do better. Richard and the other leaders were truly on our side and gave us whatever support we needed.
TJ moved into the ward when he was about 13 or 14 from a much more delinquent-prone neighborhood. I’m sure that’s how his behavior got started. But it really didn’t get worse once he moved. He just hovered around the same level of disobedience. Perhaps, though, the single greatest part of the LDS Church’s organization is the positive male presence. TJ had a dad who was fulfilling his divine appointment as father. He had a caring bishop, an understanding Young Men’s leader, two home teachers at his disposal, a faithful Sunday School teachers, and a handful of friends’ fathers. TJ’s weekly involvement in the church networked him to half a dozen grown male mentors.
This masculine resource can be made available through other means besides just church programs. Male public school teachers should have training and helped to realize their role as model examples of responsibility. Boys PE in junior high comes with benefits far surpassing physical fitness. It is a perfect opportunity for coaches to teach skills and principles beyond push-ups and dodge ball to boys who are just coming to realize the emotional differences between men and women. I would hope that all male teachers realize similar opportunities, no matter the prescribed curriculum of their discipline. I would hope they realize that “learning across the curriculum” does not simply mean writing essays for math class. While it wasn’t public school teachers who helped TJ, the principle of example can be extended to anyone with prolonged exposure with juveniles.
Berger and Bauman's Gardener
I see the Gardener model of Modernity and the Game Keeper model of Pre-Modernity as similar to Berger’s idea of construction. That is, we seek to create a patterned consistency out of a life that we do not control. Yet we cannot know that such a pattern or routine is our own construct. Such a realization would allow us to change the pattern since we made it to begin with. Changing it would demean and undermine it. If we really did come up with the rules, then we came up with the meanings, also. We would have shaped and formed the rules to align with the meaning; to align with what we think is right or true or good or moral.
The difference between the Gardener Model and Berger’s model is the element of our own state of meaning and knowing. That is, the Gardener Model assumes individuals’ and groups’ autonomy and freedom to create a reality of their own design and preference; and Berger states that we are to accept what is given, and explain and classify it ways that are in harmony with what is good or moral. Berger claims that we cannot know that we create our own worlds and realities. But as far as we have discussed so far in class, Bauman makes no such claim in his Gardener Model. According to Bauman, we do not need to fool ourselves into thinking that we have no control over our respective realities. In fact, this is counter to the argument behind the design and planned nature to the Garden. We are supposed to come up with a plan. Designing our own societies and cultures is not only expected, but it is the responsible thing to do. Without a plan or a design, we would not be able to differentiate between what is acceptable and helpful to our goals and preferences, and what is detrimental and harmful to our goals and preferences. Such plans and designs give us direction and guidance. They give us freedom to accept or reject new variables that arise during our experience while interacting with others’ “gardens.” Moreover, they force us to make decisions when we do come across something new. We much choose whether that new thing should be a part of our design.
For example, it is very hard to be ambivalent or dismissive of the war in the Middle East. Not necessarily because everyone is forced to decide on the issue of war and violence and its legitimacy in a cultured, refined society. Nor is everyone forced to decide on the merits of this war in particular and the complicated and intricate elements of the war, such as the assumed legitimacy of the Sunnis or Shiites in the region, or the control over oil in the region, or even the conspiracy theories that include the United States long-standing desire to take over the area. The reason that we are forced to choose whether or not the war fits our design may include these. But does someone like Paris Hilton need to make such a decision. With as self-centered a plan as she has, what interest does she have in the war? Perhaps the media is the lowest-common denominator in this case. The war is constantly talked about and reflected on among the media conglomerate. Hilton is also a central figure among the same cohort. If she wants to keep her status and popularity, she should probably know to some extent what her competition is.
The difference is that the Garden has a Game Keeper with which it may contrast itself, while Bauman makes no mention of such a change or dichotomy. I don’t remember studying Berger as a modernist who made the distinction between current and pre-modern societies. Therefore, I don’t know for sure that he would really accept that people can realize their own roles in creating their own realities. However, fooling ourselves into believing that we are more made than makers is explained in the Game Keeper Model, which Berger would be able to accept.
The difference between the Gardener Model and Berger’s model is the element of our own state of meaning and knowing. That is, the Gardener Model assumes individuals’ and groups’ autonomy and freedom to create a reality of their own design and preference; and Berger states that we are to accept what is given, and explain and classify it ways that are in harmony with what is good or moral. Berger claims that we cannot know that we create our own worlds and realities. But as far as we have discussed so far in class, Bauman makes no such claim in his Gardener Model. According to Bauman, we do not need to fool ourselves into thinking that we have no control over our respective realities. In fact, this is counter to the argument behind the design and planned nature to the Garden. We are supposed to come up with a plan. Designing our own societies and cultures is not only expected, but it is the responsible thing to do. Without a plan or a design, we would not be able to differentiate between what is acceptable and helpful to our goals and preferences, and what is detrimental and harmful to our goals and preferences. Such plans and designs give us direction and guidance. They give us freedom to accept or reject new variables that arise during our experience while interacting with others’ “gardens.” Moreover, they force us to make decisions when we do come across something new. We much choose whether that new thing should be a part of our design.
For example, it is very hard to be ambivalent or dismissive of the war in the Middle East. Not necessarily because everyone is forced to decide on the issue of war and violence and its legitimacy in a cultured, refined society. Nor is everyone forced to decide on the merits of this war in particular and the complicated and intricate elements of the war, such as the assumed legitimacy of the Sunnis or Shiites in the region, or the control over oil in the region, or even the conspiracy theories that include the United States long-standing desire to take over the area. The reason that we are forced to choose whether or not the war fits our design may include these. But does someone like Paris Hilton need to make such a decision. With as self-centered a plan as she has, what interest does she have in the war? Perhaps the media is the lowest-common denominator in this case. The war is constantly talked about and reflected on among the media conglomerate. Hilton is also a central figure among the same cohort. If she wants to keep her status and popularity, she should probably know to some extent what her competition is.
The difference is that the Garden has a Game Keeper with which it may contrast itself, while Bauman makes no mention of such a change or dichotomy. I don’t remember studying Berger as a modernist who made the distinction between current and pre-modern societies. Therefore, I don’t know for sure that he would really accept that people can realize their own roles in creating their own realities. However, fooling ourselves into believing that we are more made than makers is explained in the Game Keeper Model, which Berger would be able to accept.
Take What God Gives You
In true modernist fashion, I hereby state that we are better now than we were before. The present is an improvement upon the past, and to make changes to our current society that would make us more like past people and cultures from how we are now would be a regression and the opposite of improvement. Examples would be how we no longer believe that the cause of a valcano eruption is a god expressing his wrath. We don't believe that rain is angels' tears, and an outbreak of malaria is simply a lot of mosquitoes who spread the disease and a lack of prevention on the part of those affected. Really, these risks that are indicative of and associated with pre-modernity are still risks today. The big difference is the perceived causes of such natural risks. We have positive, natural science to thank for that. It is still being refined, of course. But we can certainly receive such knowledge without betraying God. If we believe that God created everything, we must believe that includes science. Therefore, a study of science is, in part, a study of God.
This modernization of knowledge and science also helps our understanding of God; and in more indirect ways than just another facet of Him, those facets including natural science. The modernization of social science has also opened up a valuation of reflexivity and reopened, some might even say 'restored,' past ideologies that were unnaturally extinguished. Such reflexivity can only be a good thing; well, honest reflexivity can only be a good thing. Like any responsible scientist, we won't say that stepping back out of the context and thinking objectively reveals truth. But such processes will sift out that which is not accurate. This leaves more plausible possibilities to be tested and eventually substituted for further, more acceptable possibilities.
The Reformers all came out of the modernist tradition. They thought critically about what they saw. They questioned. They second-guessed. They asked “What if?” and “Why?” The effectiveness and accuracy of religion is tough to be measured, however. There are no exogenous checks or tests of the root system by which we may know whether such changes are improvements. The only tests available to us are the ones given by the source of such an ideology as a belief in the non-testable. Such tests would include a feeling “in the mind and in the heart,” and a “burning in the bosom,” and “by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things.” These tests have a heavy assumption, of course. This assumption is that we accept God to be a literal Heavenly Father who shows His patriarchal care for us by providing a way to live with Him and our loved ones again. The Reformers held such an assumption, and modified their theologies to most closely resemble and reflect that assumption.
The ultimate and most extreme of the Reformers would be those whom claim a knowledge and truth which they received; not by reasoning themselves to a point of logic security, nor by forming a hypothesis and dismissing all other options. Their ideas, through a rational process according to the traditional theological assumption, came straight from the source, and therefore are not tainted by terrestrial factors. It is a wonder to me that more people didn’t see this logical path to a divine claim. All we have; in mainstream theology, anyway; are Mohammed, Joseph Smith, and Reverend Moon, who is more on the fringe. They all claim direct revelation from the source of all theology: Heavenly Father. If this one great assumption is accepted, then there isn’t really a way out of believing any one of these men; before, that is, we read their works for ourselves and receive a witness in our own souls that what they put forward is true. What is more reflexive than returning straight to the very foundation of your baseline assumptions as these men did?
This modernization of knowledge and science also helps our understanding of God; and in more indirect ways than just another facet of Him, those facets including natural science. The modernization of social science has also opened up a valuation of reflexivity and reopened, some might even say 'restored,' past ideologies that were unnaturally extinguished. Such reflexivity can only be a good thing; well, honest reflexivity can only be a good thing. Like any responsible scientist, we won't say that stepping back out of the context and thinking objectively reveals truth. But such processes will sift out that which is not accurate. This leaves more plausible possibilities to be tested and eventually substituted for further, more acceptable possibilities.
The Reformers all came out of the modernist tradition. They thought critically about what they saw. They questioned. They second-guessed. They asked “What if?” and “Why?” The effectiveness and accuracy of religion is tough to be measured, however. There are no exogenous checks or tests of the root system by which we may know whether such changes are improvements. The only tests available to us are the ones given by the source of such an ideology as a belief in the non-testable. Such tests would include a feeling “in the mind and in the heart,” and a “burning in the bosom,” and “by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things.” These tests have a heavy assumption, of course. This assumption is that we accept God to be a literal Heavenly Father who shows His patriarchal care for us by providing a way to live with Him and our loved ones again. The Reformers held such an assumption, and modified their theologies to most closely resemble and reflect that assumption.
The ultimate and most extreme of the Reformers would be those whom claim a knowledge and truth which they received; not by reasoning themselves to a point of logic security, nor by forming a hypothesis and dismissing all other options. Their ideas, through a rational process according to the traditional theological assumption, came straight from the source, and therefore are not tainted by terrestrial factors. It is a wonder to me that more people didn’t see this logical path to a divine claim. All we have; in mainstream theology, anyway; are Mohammed, Joseph Smith, and Reverend Moon, who is more on the fringe. They all claim direct revelation from the source of all theology: Heavenly Father. If this one great assumption is accepted, then there isn’t really a way out of believing any one of these men; before, that is, we read their works for ourselves and receive a witness in our own souls that what they put forward is true. What is more reflexive than returning straight to the very foundation of your baseline assumptions as these men did?
Monday, April 6, 2009
The Force of the Better Argument-April 06
The force of the better argument that Habbermas provides us seems like kind of a downer philosophy. Stated, it provides for any alternative; limited, however, to the alternatives brought up by the participants. So we can pick from anything we want, as long as someone has already thought of it. It’s almost like a cop-out excuse for why something did or did not happen. I especially feel that way during election time. At one point, I was asking how we have Obama, Hillary, and McCain to choose from out of three hundred million Americans. How in the world did we limit ourselves so drastically? Are these three our only alternatives? We have a man who alienates everyone he meets in J Mack; a woman in H-Dawg who is either willing to turn a blind eye to adultery or who is too obtuse to realize its existence in her own house; and a community organizer/Ivory Tower resident turned CEO in Chief who uses money which is not his to buy toxic investments that he does not plan on capitalizing. (On a side note: does that make him all that different from the irresponsible lenders who handed out fixed-rate mortgages like bobble-heads at the ballpark? Did they, and he, ever think that they were actually going to be able to recover the loans?)
Of course I do not wish to come across as negative or with a defeatist attitude. Moreover, I realize that I do not fully understand or comprehend the burden and responsibility of the Presidency; or even a candidacy for the Presidency. Therefore, in judging these actors’ decisions, my judgment cannot be completely clear. But this circles back around to Habbermas’ point. When a group of people assemble to explore alternatives in a decision-making process, they are forced to submit to the force of the better argument. And for the sake of review: they yield to what is rational to create the ideal speech situation. However, politics really does not lend itself to rational choices: If rationality is based on incentives (a la: which decision will best help us meet our goals), and if politics has subjective incentives whose variation from person to person or group to group is so high, then politics cannot have a very strong rationality. Or at least, when brought to the public sphere, the validity claims run rampant to the point of trampling the Benefit of the Doubt. (Funny how the Benefit of the Doubt will benefit the Doubtful, yet Benefit itself is doubted.) This stampede occurs before Empathy sets in. But Empathy is the wild card when it comes to decision-making and contesting multiple alternatives. We cannot count on it actually making an appearance, especially when it is threatened by hard-nosed talking heads that do not have much incentive to offer it a seat at the discussion table. National politics, therefore, often are reduced down to a decision of the lesser of two evils.
Yet, what more is there than these two ‘evils’? What can we choose from? Who else can provide an idea? Maybe America is simply too complicated and diverse too be able to benefit from any one person or ideology. Maybe there is no such thing as the better argument; much less its force. Well, not maybe. Actually, such an absence can be clearly observed. Even among those participants who are able to stay level-headed, soften their nose a bit, offer benefit to the doubters and skeptics; these folk still come up with some very convincing arguments going both ways. Even if there is a force to the better argument, we cannot award the Better Argument ribbon because we honestly cannot tell which is better or more rational. Even if B.O., H-Dawg and J-Mack were the most brilliant, capable, and liked individuals in the country; we still wouldn’t be able to agree on one because the choices are all relative to the other choices. When all the alternatives are present, and we may choose only from those, then there is no standard by which we may judge. Like marriage: if you include it to mean anything, then it means nothing. So really, I have no qualms about Obama being president. If all I had to choose from really was those three, and I really like or really do not like them all the same, then it does not make a difference which one is elected. (My defeatism creeps back in now and we see that I basically gave up on presidential politics. Which, honestly, I have.)
But our choices MUST be limited, right? So even in exploring alternative explanations to the fact that we are limited to alternative explanations, we see a limitation to the alternative explanations: a kind of meta-alternative?
Of course I do not wish to come across as negative or with a defeatist attitude. Moreover, I realize that I do not fully understand or comprehend the burden and responsibility of the Presidency; or even a candidacy for the Presidency. Therefore, in judging these actors’ decisions, my judgment cannot be completely clear. But this circles back around to Habbermas’ point. When a group of people assemble to explore alternatives in a decision-making process, they are forced to submit to the force of the better argument. And for the sake of review: they yield to what is rational to create the ideal speech situation. However, politics really does not lend itself to rational choices: If rationality is based on incentives (a la: which decision will best help us meet our goals), and if politics has subjective incentives whose variation from person to person or group to group is so high, then politics cannot have a very strong rationality. Or at least, when brought to the public sphere, the validity claims run rampant to the point of trampling the Benefit of the Doubt. (Funny how the Benefit of the Doubt will benefit the Doubtful, yet Benefit itself is doubted.) This stampede occurs before Empathy sets in. But Empathy is the wild card when it comes to decision-making and contesting multiple alternatives. We cannot count on it actually making an appearance, especially when it is threatened by hard-nosed talking heads that do not have much incentive to offer it a seat at the discussion table. National politics, therefore, often are reduced down to a decision of the lesser of two evils.
Yet, what more is there than these two ‘evils’? What can we choose from? Who else can provide an idea? Maybe America is simply too complicated and diverse too be able to benefit from any one person or ideology. Maybe there is no such thing as the better argument; much less its force. Well, not maybe. Actually, such an absence can be clearly observed. Even among those participants who are able to stay level-headed, soften their nose a bit, offer benefit to the doubters and skeptics; these folk still come up with some very convincing arguments going both ways. Even if there is a force to the better argument, we cannot award the Better Argument ribbon because we honestly cannot tell which is better or more rational. Even if B.O., H-Dawg and J-Mack were the most brilliant, capable, and liked individuals in the country; we still wouldn’t be able to agree on one because the choices are all relative to the other choices. When all the alternatives are present, and we may choose only from those, then there is no standard by which we may judge. Like marriage: if you include it to mean anything, then it means nothing. So really, I have no qualms about Obama being president. If all I had to choose from really was those three, and I really like or really do not like them all the same, then it does not make a difference which one is elected. (My defeatism creeps back in now and we see that I basically gave up on presidential politics. Which, honestly, I have.)
But our choices MUST be limited, right? So even in exploring alternative explanations to the fact that we are limited to alternative explanations, we see a limitation to the alternative explanations: a kind of meta-alternative?
Monday, March 30, 2009
What's the Point?
Foucault on Sexuality and Beyond—March 30
A big part of any religion is its focus on sexual relationships. Nearly every religion has some kind of commandment or guideline to keep its followers chaste. Or, it has some provision to excuse certain members of consequence when they take multiple partners. As a lifeguard in junior high for a popular water park, I was thankful to not be old enough to work any of the night parties when an organization of any kind could rent the park for its exclusive use. Why was I thankful? Because that meant I didn’t have to say no if they asked me to guard for the gay and lesbian church that rented out the park once a summer. Apparently, the church was a popular one for homosexual couples. To this day, I dismiss the illicit rumors of the event as exaggerations of adolescent minds. Luckily, I don’t remember the rumors very well. What seems to be different about the LDS perspective on sex is that it is neither intrinsically good nor bad. It’s part of the family unit, inasmuch as children are a product of sex. Foucault’s big argument of the sexed society is that it became embodied—sexual acts are a part of the body. However, LDS believe that sex is part of a relationship; and only one kind of relationship. It exists more to bring two people together, rather than provide pleasure for one or the other...hence the aversion to masturbation, which does not contribute to any relationship.
Sex occupies a large portion of our society in general, doesn’t it? Music is sexed up by video. A musician, especially female, is not very marketable unless she has sex appeal; same with males, but on a seemingly less steep curve. Josh Groban, Eric Clapton, Bono, John Mayer: all successful, amazing musicians; but they are so ugly. Of course, in calling them ugly, I make no value-judgment with respect to their character or personal morals. The musicianship for which they are famous is not under critique with my subjective ‘ugly’ comment. I simply comment that they are popular in spite of their looks. Generally speaking, however, modern-musicians are sexed.
Sex appeal has become an integral part of all aspect of popular culture. I can’t figure out what cheerleaders not wearing very many clothes have to do with football. Even more perplexing were the scantily-clad dancers at the Coyotes’ hockey game I went to once. They were dancing on the ice!? That doesn’t even make sense. Maybe they had on special shoes, but it didn’t look like it. Almost Every PG-13 movie seemingly has a requirement for at least one sex scene. You know it is a requirement because oftentimes it doesn’t even fit the story. I’ve just learned that I can still understand the movie without needing to watch that kind of part.
Apparently, I am also a sexed being; although more of a sexed subject than a sexed object. (I raised a concern to my older brother once: “I’m afraid that all these girls who can’t keep their hands off of me just want me for my body and not for my mind or personality.” He didn’t miss a beat: “You know, Der, Sport Illustrated models have the same problem. They never know.”) By me discussing this, moreover being bothered by it, I am making sex an issue. Hence my claim at being a sexed being. Does the fact the Foucault discuss it also make it an issue for him? Apparently, it was not an issue for the Greeks. It was just another part of pleasure; another part of the good life. Today, we cringe at the idea that Greek men had relations with boys. Socrates is even discredited to some extant because of that. While we know that this is wrong from a gospel point-of-view, we cannot rely on a society-based argument and stay logically legitimate. Sex had a different context then compared to now. To those who believe in the exclusivity of sex in marriage, relations with boys must logically be as unacceptable as relations between two consenting adults who are committed to each other, and even maybe “love” each other.
A big part of any religion is its focus on sexual relationships. Nearly every religion has some kind of commandment or guideline to keep its followers chaste. Or, it has some provision to excuse certain members of consequence when they take multiple partners. As a lifeguard in junior high for a popular water park, I was thankful to not be old enough to work any of the night parties when an organization of any kind could rent the park for its exclusive use. Why was I thankful? Because that meant I didn’t have to say no if they asked me to guard for the gay and lesbian church that rented out the park once a summer. Apparently, the church was a popular one for homosexual couples. To this day, I dismiss the illicit rumors of the event as exaggerations of adolescent minds. Luckily, I don’t remember the rumors very well. What seems to be different about the LDS perspective on sex is that it is neither intrinsically good nor bad. It’s part of the family unit, inasmuch as children are a product of sex. Foucault’s big argument of the sexed society is that it became embodied—sexual acts are a part of the body. However, LDS believe that sex is part of a relationship; and only one kind of relationship. It exists more to bring two people together, rather than provide pleasure for one or the other...hence the aversion to masturbation, which does not contribute to any relationship.
Sex occupies a large portion of our society in general, doesn’t it? Music is sexed up by video. A musician, especially female, is not very marketable unless she has sex appeal; same with males, but on a seemingly less steep curve. Josh Groban, Eric Clapton, Bono, John Mayer: all successful, amazing musicians; but they are so ugly. Of course, in calling them ugly, I make no value-judgment with respect to their character or personal morals. The musicianship for which they are famous is not under critique with my subjective ‘ugly’ comment. I simply comment that they are popular in spite of their looks. Generally speaking, however, modern-musicians are sexed.
Sex appeal has become an integral part of all aspect of popular culture. I can’t figure out what cheerleaders not wearing very many clothes have to do with football. Even more perplexing were the scantily-clad dancers at the Coyotes’ hockey game I went to once. They were dancing on the ice!? That doesn’t even make sense. Maybe they had on special shoes, but it didn’t look like it. Almost Every PG-13 movie seemingly has a requirement for at least one sex scene. You know it is a requirement because oftentimes it doesn’t even fit the story. I’ve just learned that I can still understand the movie without needing to watch that kind of part.
Apparently, I am also a sexed being; although more of a sexed subject than a sexed object. (I raised a concern to my older brother once: “I’m afraid that all these girls who can’t keep their hands off of me just want me for my body and not for my mind or personality.” He didn’t miss a beat: “You know, Der, Sport Illustrated models have the same problem. They never know.”) By me discussing this, moreover being bothered by it, I am making sex an issue. Hence my claim at being a sexed being. Does the fact the Foucault discuss it also make it an issue for him? Apparently, it was not an issue for the Greeks. It was just another part of pleasure; another part of the good life. Today, we cringe at the idea that Greek men had relations with boys. Socrates is even discredited to some extant because of that. While we know that this is wrong from a gospel point-of-view, we cannot rely on a society-based argument and stay logically legitimate. Sex had a different context then compared to now. To those who believe in the exclusivity of sex in marriage, relations with boys must logically be as unacceptable as relations between two consenting adults who are committed to each other, and even maybe “love” each other.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Berger's kind of Missionary
March 13 Berger
Control is one of the major questions of human experience. Most crime is committed in the name of a person wanting control over someone or something else. Politics, so some extent, is the same as crime, only legalized. Bad religion, like the brain-washing cultists and money-digging televangelists, seems to simply be the arena of the savvy, smart criminals. They can do the same things as the common criminals (steal, lie, commit sexual crimes, even kill), but they do not have to force anyone to do it. Rather, they coercion to convince their victims to freely give it. Good religion, those that are known by their “good fruits,” does not employ coercive tactics; but control is still at the center of the issue. Good religion tries to turn control over to responsible individuals who will act in a moral way. Human beings seem to have a propensity to be in control.
Berger sees this, and seemingly quite clearly. He sees our propensity to construct order out of chaos; to remove ourselves from the construction of our reality. And this element of sociological commentary seems to explain LDS full-time missionary work. Missionaries leave to serve with a degree of expectancy to see a lot of “success.” They may have the idea in their mind that their sacrifice of time, their parents’ money, and their lost opportunities for girlfriends, school, work, or athletics puts them in a position of being owed; as if they now deserve to find, teach, and baptize a lot of people. Some enter this world thinking that they’ve done the work they need to do and made the decisions they need to make, and now the world of missionary work is constructed in such a way to absolve them from the burden of creation. There is seemingly a world already created for them. They have done their part, now all they have to do is go participate.
Now only talking about the missionary who mistakenly feels entitled, he starts to see discrepancy between what they expected would happen and reality. He may start to blame his companion for their lack of investigators. He may blame the members for their lack of referrals. He may even turn against God by reminding Him of the missionary’s grand sacrifices and blessings that have already been promised to the missionary. He will likely give God an ultimatum not unlike “If I talk to ten families a day for a month, then You will send me a family to baptize;” or “If I wake up an hour early every day to exercise then You will give me the gift of tongues.” This will lead the missionary to be more discouraged and confused because they were so set on their pre-conceived notion of what it means to be “successful.”
Very few of this typification of missionary will go home early. (Even as I write about Berger’s theory I feel the need to routinize my analysis.) Most will stay, but they will sink or swim. Those who sink live from P-Day to P-Day, checking them off until the time they can go home. But they do not strive to construct order out of the chaos. The missionaries who swim feel the need to come up with a routine. “But I can’t come up with a routine myself. This is not my time,” he says to himself and to God. “This time belongs to the Lord. I have to do it His way.” The Lord’s way, when serving a mission, is obedience. These missionaries find security in that obedience: it is their reality; the construct that they feel compelled to follow. They search the scriptures for elements of construction that God has already established. The rules and commandments that they are to follow are external to their own world.
However, serving a mission, like just about anything else, is what the individual makes it. As the missionary follows the rules, and in so doing finds the answers that eluded him at his pretentious beginning, he makes those rules his own. They have meaning only inasmuch as the missionary gives them. And if the rules are important enough to the missionary, he naturally finds his will aligning with God’s will, and realizes from then on that it was the missionary’s construct the whole time. And God helped it along.
Control is one of the major questions of human experience. Most crime is committed in the name of a person wanting control over someone or something else. Politics, so some extent, is the same as crime, only legalized. Bad religion, like the brain-washing cultists and money-digging televangelists, seems to simply be the arena of the savvy, smart criminals. They can do the same things as the common criminals (steal, lie, commit sexual crimes, even kill), but they do not have to force anyone to do it. Rather, they coercion to convince their victims to freely give it. Good religion, those that are known by their “good fruits,” does not employ coercive tactics; but control is still at the center of the issue. Good religion tries to turn control over to responsible individuals who will act in a moral way. Human beings seem to have a propensity to be in control.
Berger sees this, and seemingly quite clearly. He sees our propensity to construct order out of chaos; to remove ourselves from the construction of our reality. And this element of sociological commentary seems to explain LDS full-time missionary work. Missionaries leave to serve with a degree of expectancy to see a lot of “success.” They may have the idea in their mind that their sacrifice of time, their parents’ money, and their lost opportunities for girlfriends, school, work, or athletics puts them in a position of being owed; as if they now deserve to find, teach, and baptize a lot of people. Some enter this world thinking that they’ve done the work they need to do and made the decisions they need to make, and now the world of missionary work is constructed in such a way to absolve them from the burden of creation. There is seemingly a world already created for them. They have done their part, now all they have to do is go participate.
Now only talking about the missionary who mistakenly feels entitled, he starts to see discrepancy between what they expected would happen and reality. He may start to blame his companion for their lack of investigators. He may blame the members for their lack of referrals. He may even turn against God by reminding Him of the missionary’s grand sacrifices and blessings that have already been promised to the missionary. He will likely give God an ultimatum not unlike “If I talk to ten families a day for a month, then You will send me a family to baptize;” or “If I wake up an hour early every day to exercise then You will give me the gift of tongues.” This will lead the missionary to be more discouraged and confused because they were so set on their pre-conceived notion of what it means to be “successful.”
Very few of this typification of missionary will go home early. (Even as I write about Berger’s theory I feel the need to routinize my analysis.) Most will stay, but they will sink or swim. Those who sink live from P-Day to P-Day, checking them off until the time they can go home. But they do not strive to construct order out of the chaos. The missionaries who swim feel the need to come up with a routine. “But I can’t come up with a routine myself. This is not my time,” he says to himself and to God. “This time belongs to the Lord. I have to do it His way.” The Lord’s way, when serving a mission, is obedience. These missionaries find security in that obedience: it is their reality; the construct that they feel compelled to follow. They search the scriptures for elements of construction that God has already established. The rules and commandments that they are to follow are external to their own world.
However, serving a mission, like just about anything else, is what the individual makes it. As the missionary follows the rules, and in so doing finds the answers that eluded him at his pretentious beginning, he makes those rules his own. They have meaning only inasmuch as the missionary gives them. And if the rules are important enough to the missionary, he naturally finds his will aligning with God’s will, and realizes from then on that it was the missionary’s construct the whole time. And God helped it along.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Feminism
March 12, 2009 Feminism
What are some of the things that have been invented by men? We have Democracy, as made famous by Caesar; Fascism, as made famous by Hitler. There is this popular device called the internet; but like global warming and other Al Gore inventions, it’s probably just a passing fad. Don’t forget about the United States of America, calculus, and nuclear power. And we would be doing ourselves a disservice if we forgot about the Sistine Chapel, Mahler’s Resurrection Symphony, the pyramids, and Lord of the Rings. When we think of the wonders of this world, how much of that thinking is occupied by putting it in gendered context? We really don’t think of whether a male or female accomplished it. This could mean lots of different things about who we are, but I am thinking of a couple of things in particular: individuals’ experience far outweighs all other factors, or their gender outweighs all other factors.
Of course, what is experience when taken out of its original context? Is it the same experience? And what is context if it excludes some of the factors that constitute it? When studying our world, are we allowed to be choosy about what factors we deem relevant? Was Joseph Smith simply another product of the Great Awakening? Were the Founding Fathers just a group of rich land-owners who didn’t want to pay taxes to a foreign government? Was Dorothy Smith a flower-child who wanted to jump on the coat tails of the hippie sixties?
As I ask myself these questions, I begin to believe that it really doesn’t matter. We can remove Smith from the early nineteenth century just as easily as we can vote George Washington as President today; or (while we’re daydreaming) remove our current government officials. To think differently would be fruitless. Sorry, Rational Choice Theorists. In a descriptive science like sociology, we cannot answer the question of “What if it were different?” It is not different. Deal with it.
Modern sociology was invented by men. This, apparently, is the basis for Smith’s argument in favor of Feminism. Since men invented sociology, it will naturally have a masculine flavor. However, more, hmmm, “dynamic” feminists might use a word more like “taint” or “stench.” So, to rid the discipline of such a bias, we must re-look at it through another’s eyes. We must break it down, start all over again, and build it up again. Only this time, we look at it from the women’s standpoint. How does a woman see the world? How do they act and think? In what ways are they oppressed? If she is arguing that things made by males need restructuring, then we need to basically reinvent the wheel—the wheel here referring to all of man’s inventions. Although I do not know for sure that it was an individual with non-matching chromosome pairs who invented the wheel, the idea is that elements of our lives upon which we rely so heavily and that have served us quite satisfactorily to this point don’t need reinventing.
But has sociology served us as well as the internet? Are the conflicts we face all the time evidence of a broken sociology? one that needs reinventing, fresh from a masculine standpoint? To Smith: Yes. Smith presents a foundational sociology with elements of the subject, not the object. “We don’t need Sociology,” Smith seems to say. “Sociology needs us!” Sociology doesn’t teach us anything. Sociology doesn’t even have a law upon which to rest its assumptions, like Economics and Physics do. Theory doesn’t teach us anything. Human experience teaches us. And since experience is embodied starting when we grow up, and since we grow up mostly around women, let’s start with them.
What are some of the things that have been invented by men? We have Democracy, as made famous by Caesar; Fascism, as made famous by Hitler. There is this popular device called the internet; but like global warming and other Al Gore inventions, it’s probably just a passing fad. Don’t forget about the United States of America, calculus, and nuclear power. And we would be doing ourselves a disservice if we forgot about the Sistine Chapel, Mahler’s Resurrection Symphony, the pyramids, and Lord of the Rings. When we think of the wonders of this world, how much of that thinking is occupied by putting it in gendered context? We really don’t think of whether a male or female accomplished it. This could mean lots of different things about who we are, but I am thinking of a couple of things in particular: individuals’ experience far outweighs all other factors, or their gender outweighs all other factors.
Of course, what is experience when taken out of its original context? Is it the same experience? And what is context if it excludes some of the factors that constitute it? When studying our world, are we allowed to be choosy about what factors we deem relevant? Was Joseph Smith simply another product of the Great Awakening? Were the Founding Fathers just a group of rich land-owners who didn’t want to pay taxes to a foreign government? Was Dorothy Smith a flower-child who wanted to jump on the coat tails of the hippie sixties?
As I ask myself these questions, I begin to believe that it really doesn’t matter. We can remove Smith from the early nineteenth century just as easily as we can vote George Washington as President today; or (while we’re daydreaming) remove our current government officials. To think differently would be fruitless. Sorry, Rational Choice Theorists. In a descriptive science like sociology, we cannot answer the question of “What if it were different?” It is not different. Deal with it.
Modern sociology was invented by men. This, apparently, is the basis for Smith’s argument in favor of Feminism. Since men invented sociology, it will naturally have a masculine flavor. However, more, hmmm, “dynamic” feminists might use a word more like “taint” or “stench.” So, to rid the discipline of such a bias, we must re-look at it through another’s eyes. We must break it down, start all over again, and build it up again. Only this time, we look at it from the women’s standpoint. How does a woman see the world? How do they act and think? In what ways are they oppressed? If she is arguing that things made by males need restructuring, then we need to basically reinvent the wheel—the wheel here referring to all of man’s inventions. Although I do not know for sure that it was an individual with non-matching chromosome pairs who invented the wheel, the idea is that elements of our lives upon which we rely so heavily and that have served us quite satisfactorily to this point don’t need reinventing.
But has sociology served us as well as the internet? Are the conflicts we face all the time evidence of a broken sociology? one that needs reinventing, fresh from a masculine standpoint? To Smith: Yes. Smith presents a foundational sociology with elements of the subject, not the object. “We don’t need Sociology,” Smith seems to say. “Sociology needs us!” Sociology doesn’t teach us anything. Sociology doesn’t even have a law upon which to rest its assumptions, like Economics and Physics do. Theory doesn’t teach us anything. Human experience teaches us. And since experience is embodied starting when we grow up, and since we grow up mostly around women, let’s start with them.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
The Gospel, Phenomenoligically
March 11, 2009—The Gospel as Phenomenology
I believe in relationships. I believe that interaction is the clearest, most definitive way to define our respective humanity; human being-ness. We see clear proof of this in business and commerce with sayings such as “It’s not what you know, but whom you know.” Among sports teams, the coaches strive to build camaraderie between his teammates because teams with close friendships perform better. In missionary work, the investigator-then-convert is much more likely to progress and grow his or her testimony if introduced to the gospel through a member-friend. Eternally-speaking, we see exaltation in terms of family units. Even the Zen-seeking, bleeding-heart tree-huggers talk about their relationships with nature as self-defining.
Further, a relationship-based ontology and Phenomenology are not mutually exclusive. They don’t necessarily contradict each other. Actually, the absence of some kind of ontology within Phenomenology prevents it from contradicting much at all. If Phenomenology is the study of the world as experienced or how it is lived, how in the world, literally, are we supposed to learn about things outside our experience? How do we explain that we know about things that happen on the other side of the world that had nothing to do with us? How do we account for our understanding of religion, or history? Phenomenology, on the surface, may not be able to explain second-hand learning.
However, one of the elements that Phenomenology adds, that Crotty brings up, is the value of language. Through language, we are able to recount and record experience. And when read or listened-to, that experience can become a part of someone else’s experience. So putting the gospel in context of Phenomenology, the scriptures become critical in religious experience. There is even a spiritual gift that enhances the scriptures and language (D&C 46: 13-14). Through scripture, we can all be fed as the 5,000; or be caught up in the belly of a whale; or experience a host of other miracles without them actually happening to us first-hand.
People new to the gospel, then, must accustom themselves with a new kind of language; another Crotty contribution. Where else is the word “ward” used to describe a church congregation? I’ve only heard about “wards” in hospitals and jails besides church; as in “mental ward” or “maternal ward.” The word “quorum” is used very little outside talking about a group of Priesthood holders, but would another word really do justice in describing the brotherhood shared between men engaged in the work of the Lord?
Triteness and cliché, now, become road blocks in Phenomenology. Over-usage of seemingly significant language reduces the effectiveness of that language, and in turn, the value of second-hand experience. Just as a good song played in excess on the radio becomes boring and not preferred to its listeners, commonly-used language can become boring and less-substantial. It becomes unfit for the purpose. Eventually, it doesn’t do justice to the experience.
Progressive meaninglessness and altered meaning has crept its way into Mormon lexicon. For example, do people fully understand what it means to say “I know this is what God wants me to do?” I would think that if this truly is the case, the individual would by this time have made such a strong relationship with God that whatever “this” may be is not only what God wants to have happen, but also what that person wants to have happen. Maybe what this pious, faithful person really means is “This is what I want to do, and God is on my side about it.”
Of course, true submissiveness and discipleship means having an attitude of “It doesn’t matter what I want. I only want that Thy will be done.” But my point is that we should look beyond the words that are used to the meaning that we wish to be portrayed.
I believe in relationships. I believe that interaction is the clearest, most definitive way to define our respective humanity; human being-ness. We see clear proof of this in business and commerce with sayings such as “It’s not what you know, but whom you know.” Among sports teams, the coaches strive to build camaraderie between his teammates because teams with close friendships perform better. In missionary work, the investigator-then-convert is much more likely to progress and grow his or her testimony if introduced to the gospel through a member-friend. Eternally-speaking, we see exaltation in terms of family units. Even the Zen-seeking, bleeding-heart tree-huggers talk about their relationships with nature as self-defining.
Further, a relationship-based ontology and Phenomenology are not mutually exclusive. They don’t necessarily contradict each other. Actually, the absence of some kind of ontology within Phenomenology prevents it from contradicting much at all. If Phenomenology is the study of the world as experienced or how it is lived, how in the world, literally, are we supposed to learn about things outside our experience? How do we explain that we know about things that happen on the other side of the world that had nothing to do with us? How do we account for our understanding of religion, or history? Phenomenology, on the surface, may not be able to explain second-hand learning.
However, one of the elements that Phenomenology adds, that Crotty brings up, is the value of language. Through language, we are able to recount and record experience. And when read or listened-to, that experience can become a part of someone else’s experience. So putting the gospel in context of Phenomenology, the scriptures become critical in religious experience. There is even a spiritual gift that enhances the scriptures and language (D&C 46: 13-14). Through scripture, we can all be fed as the 5,000; or be caught up in the belly of a whale; or experience a host of other miracles without them actually happening to us first-hand.
People new to the gospel, then, must accustom themselves with a new kind of language; another Crotty contribution. Where else is the word “ward” used to describe a church congregation? I’ve only heard about “wards” in hospitals and jails besides church; as in “mental ward” or “maternal ward.” The word “quorum” is used very little outside talking about a group of Priesthood holders, but would another word really do justice in describing the brotherhood shared between men engaged in the work of the Lord?
Triteness and cliché, now, become road blocks in Phenomenology. Over-usage of seemingly significant language reduces the effectiveness of that language, and in turn, the value of second-hand experience. Just as a good song played in excess on the radio becomes boring and not preferred to its listeners, commonly-used language can become boring and less-substantial. It becomes unfit for the purpose. Eventually, it doesn’t do justice to the experience.
Progressive meaninglessness and altered meaning has crept its way into Mormon lexicon. For example, do people fully understand what it means to say “I know this is what God wants me to do?” I would think that if this truly is the case, the individual would by this time have made such a strong relationship with God that whatever “this” may be is not only what God wants to have happen, but also what that person wants to have happen. Maybe what this pious, faithful person really means is “This is what I want to do, and God is on my side about it.”
Of course, true submissiveness and discipleship means having an attitude of “It doesn’t matter what I want. I only want that Thy will be done.” But my point is that we should look beyond the words that are used to the meaning that we wish to be portrayed.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Divorce
Divorce March 4, 2009
Diane Vaughn’s work on divorce made me feel kinda bad, and I’ve never even been divorced! But putting this in context of other relationships, such as dating relationships, has pretty much tagged me as a jerk. Moreover, it made me think about the importance of having clear communication, even with people whom I don’t like very much. (“Wow,” you’re thinking. “This guy doesn’t like the girls he dates. He is a jerk!”)
I’ve been on both sides of the break-up; I’ve been the initiator before. I was the advantaged. I was in the decision-making position. I was whom Marx was preaching against—the emotional Bourgeoisie; only the factors of production I controlled and limited were DTRs, physical affection, and time spent together. The one-woman Proletariat would issue pleas of “Let’s talk about it;” and “Tell me what you’re thinking;” and “don’t shut me out.” I don’t remember precisely how I responded, but it probably included something about having cake, actually eating it while you have it, and how that’s a ridiculous, selfish desire to have. (Of course, the one who ACTUALLY was the ridiculous and selfish one was...)
I had the higher ground in the relationship. Most of the time the higher ground gives you a clear picture of what’s going on below: like how a lifeguard can see down into the water from his perch. (Man, those were some cool 15 year-olds up there.) Or we talk about going to the temple and keeping the commandments in order to be on spiritual high ground—to get above the foggy haze of indecision and meanness. Pres Hinckley asked why we have to be so mean and rude to each other. You think you know the answer, until you have to break up with someone. Then you find yourself on the sharp, poisonous, stinging end of Pres Hinckley’s inspired rebuke.
In Vaughn’s idea of the big “D,” the higher ground doesn’t represent clarity of mind. Here, higher ground is tactical. It is militaristic. Higher ground is my pretending that everything is normal and all right for as long as it takes me to establish an alternative to the status quo, and then jump from one ship to the other without rocking the boat too much.
Why must I first have the alternative? 1) Because I don’t want to end up down by the river in a van. 2) Because I don’t exist outside of experience. Therefore, if I have nothing to go to, then I won't exist, and I won't be able to leave. (Hence, the battered woman syndrome we spoke about.) 3) No one wants to get divorced, even if that ends up being the final decision. Despite this, some still revert to that option. The alternative that has been built up and established by the Initiator allows divorce to offer itself as the preferred option. Can you believe that? The fact that divorce has become the better option, the option that delivers less grief, the option that is the lesser of two evils really says something about the perceived badness of the marriage relationship. Separation becomes a source of relief. Moreover, that feeds into an explanation of why some dads become deadbeats. They are separated from the world that includes their children. Because they are not part of their children’s world, they have no need to contribute to making it better.
The status quo in a marriage, as many people believe, is to continue being married. That’s the default setting. The problem with this kind of thinking is that it doesn’t fit in with any other part of a responsible, rational person’s life. Who goes to their job and does not try to do it better in hopes of a raise or promotion? What guy goes to play basketball on the weekend with his buddies without an expectation of winning at least one of the games or scoring a few points? We go to school and strive to do better with each assignment or test that comes along. I’m not talking, necessarily, about competition. I’m talking about our motivations to participate—in anything. That is in some way to leave better than we came. Otherwise, why do we come in the first place?
Diane Vaughn’s work on divorce made me feel kinda bad, and I’ve never even been divorced! But putting this in context of other relationships, such as dating relationships, has pretty much tagged me as a jerk. Moreover, it made me think about the importance of having clear communication, even with people whom I don’t like very much. (“Wow,” you’re thinking. “This guy doesn’t like the girls he dates. He is a jerk!”)
I’ve been on both sides of the break-up; I’ve been the initiator before. I was the advantaged. I was in the decision-making position. I was whom Marx was preaching against—the emotional Bourgeoisie; only the factors of production I controlled and limited were DTRs, physical affection, and time spent together. The one-woman Proletariat would issue pleas of “Let’s talk about it;” and “Tell me what you’re thinking;” and “don’t shut me out.” I don’t remember precisely how I responded, but it probably included something about having cake, actually eating it while you have it, and how that’s a ridiculous, selfish desire to have. (Of course, the one who ACTUALLY was the ridiculous and selfish one was...)
I had the higher ground in the relationship. Most of the time the higher ground gives you a clear picture of what’s going on below: like how a lifeguard can see down into the water from his perch. (Man, those were some cool 15 year-olds up there.) Or we talk about going to the temple and keeping the commandments in order to be on spiritual high ground—to get above the foggy haze of indecision and meanness. Pres Hinckley asked why we have to be so mean and rude to each other. You think you know the answer, until you have to break up with someone. Then you find yourself on the sharp, poisonous, stinging end of Pres Hinckley’s inspired rebuke.
In Vaughn’s idea of the big “D,” the higher ground doesn’t represent clarity of mind. Here, higher ground is tactical. It is militaristic. Higher ground is my pretending that everything is normal and all right for as long as it takes me to establish an alternative to the status quo, and then jump from one ship to the other without rocking the boat too much.
Why must I first have the alternative? 1) Because I don’t want to end up down by the river in a van. 2) Because I don’t exist outside of experience. Therefore, if I have nothing to go to, then I won't exist, and I won't be able to leave. (Hence, the battered woman syndrome we spoke about.) 3) No one wants to get divorced, even if that ends up being the final decision. Despite this, some still revert to that option. The alternative that has been built up and established by the Initiator allows divorce to offer itself as the preferred option. Can you believe that? The fact that divorce has become the better option, the option that delivers less grief, the option that is the lesser of two evils really says something about the perceived badness of the marriage relationship. Separation becomes a source of relief. Moreover, that feeds into an explanation of why some dads become deadbeats. They are separated from the world that includes their children. Because they are not part of their children’s world, they have no need to contribute to making it better.
The status quo in a marriage, as many people believe, is to continue being married. That’s the default setting. The problem with this kind of thinking is that it doesn’t fit in with any other part of a responsible, rational person’s life. Who goes to their job and does not try to do it better in hopes of a raise or promotion? What guy goes to play basketball on the weekend with his buddies without an expectation of winning at least one of the games or scoring a few points? We go to school and strive to do better with each assignment or test that comes along. I’m not talking, necessarily, about competition. I’m talking about our motivations to participate—in anything. That is in some way to leave better than we came. Otherwise, why do we come in the first place?
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Goffman and Dating
There is no bigger proponent of not applying everything we learn to “dating” than me, the one writing this portfolio entry. I find the near-constant comparisons to dating from random, un-related parts of our life to be trite, cliché, unhelpful, and uninspiring. Sorry to disappoint, but no, dating is not just like the mission and girls are not investigators; I’m certainly not going to stalk and shoot anyone, so the hunting reference is bust; and no matter how many times we call it the “ward menu,” we are not at a restaurant and I am not ordering a chimichanga. I have not yet experienced anything, ever, except for this social past time, that would compel me to call up a complete stranger with whom I’m “sure to have a great time” simply because she was referred to me by a mutual acquaintance; the time spent with each other, of course, dripping with romantic undertones (remember: stranger). Furthermore, it is my sincerest, deepest hope that I’ll be able to go throughout the rest of my life never experiencing something like this again. I’m not against dating at all. In fact, I quite like the companionship. But I am against comparing dating to things that have no semblance of dating; these comparisons made solely for the sake of… talking about dating.
So I decided that Goffman can tell us all about dating. While talking with my roommate, I actually said the words “How do you want girls to take you?” See, he’s a “dramaturgical dater.” He talks about going out on dates in a very official way, each partner playing his and her role just as expected. He has a very distinct appearance (the cologne he uses and the shoes he wears and the ice cream he buys for afterward—closest thing we come to a ‘night cap’.) His manner is just as can be expected (he asks the normal questions, like “What’s new and exciting in your life?”) He’s very organized and official and straight-laced. And from that, he’s been perceived and serious, hard to read, even intimidating.
This all came up last night when he was saying how much he appreciates a short text or email or Facebook message from a girl after taking her on a date. I had to ask him “Are you really all that surprised that they don’t do that?” A text or other friendly message is a very casual thing, and he is simply not a casual person, and does not establish a casual relationship. So, the post-date text would be out of context. (Is that called “con-contextual?”) Like we said in class, “we must know how to take others to know how to interact with them.” I don’t think a lot of girls know how to take my roommate. He says “I don’t know why these girls I date can’t show a little interest. Why can’t they meet me halfway?” this coming from a guy who cuts a Saturday night date short by a couple hours if he has Sunday morning church meetings (which really is just when it’s getting started.)
Goffman would be so proud of me for what I told him. I said that his official, organized, neat, intimidating manner is just fine. But you have to expect to be taken as you present yourself. And he’s having Goffman-esque success at it! People are treating him the way that he is acting. We are all giving him the standing ovation, even throwing roses onto the stage and yelling “Encore!” Girls are treating him as serious and efficient and mature by not sending him random text messages. His dude friends see how well he thrives in high-structure situations, and they send him a lot of blind date suggestions. We are surprised that he ends his dates early because he sees his church calling as more important than the last couple hours of a date, which may be the most important time of the date! “Bravo, my friend. Bravo! You are playing your part magnificently! We all know exactly how to take you.”
But, I told him, if you want the random text message and other flirty behavior, then you must present yourself that way. My mother could not be more correct than when she said “To make a friend, you must first be a friend.” Goffman adds “And others will then take you as a friend.”
So I decided that Goffman can tell us all about dating. While talking with my roommate, I actually said the words “How do you want girls to take you?” See, he’s a “dramaturgical dater.” He talks about going out on dates in a very official way, each partner playing his and her role just as expected. He has a very distinct appearance (the cologne he uses and the shoes he wears and the ice cream he buys for afterward—closest thing we come to a ‘night cap’.) His manner is just as can be expected (he asks the normal questions, like “What’s new and exciting in your life?”) He’s very organized and official and straight-laced. And from that, he’s been perceived and serious, hard to read, even intimidating.
This all came up last night when he was saying how much he appreciates a short text or email or Facebook message from a girl after taking her on a date. I had to ask him “Are you really all that surprised that they don’t do that?” A text or other friendly message is a very casual thing, and he is simply not a casual person, and does not establish a casual relationship. So, the post-date text would be out of context. (Is that called “con-contextual?”) Like we said in class, “we must know how to take others to know how to interact with them.” I don’t think a lot of girls know how to take my roommate. He says “I don’t know why these girls I date can’t show a little interest. Why can’t they meet me halfway?” this coming from a guy who cuts a Saturday night date short by a couple hours if he has Sunday morning church meetings (which really is just when it’s getting started.)
Goffman would be so proud of me for what I told him. I said that his official, organized, neat, intimidating manner is just fine. But you have to expect to be taken as you present yourself. And he’s having Goffman-esque success at it! People are treating him the way that he is acting. We are all giving him the standing ovation, even throwing roses onto the stage and yelling “Encore!” Girls are treating him as serious and efficient and mature by not sending him random text messages. His dude friends see how well he thrives in high-structure situations, and they send him a lot of blind date suggestions. We are surprised that he ends his dates early because he sees his church calling as more important than the last couple hours of a date, which may be the most important time of the date! “Bravo, my friend. Bravo! You are playing your part magnificently! We all know exactly how to take you.”
But, I told him, if you want the random text message and other flirty behavior, then you must present yourself that way. My mother could not be more correct than when she said “To make a friend, you must first be a friend.” Goffman adds “And others will then take you as a friend.”
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Symbolic Interaction
The big question of the class, the lowest common denominator as we move from school of thought to school of thought has been “What is?” As pseudo-theorists, we are in the business of making ontological assumptions. (Am I allowed to talk about business in sociology?) Some ontological assumptions have been that we are what we make, or that we are what we do, or that we are what we consume. All of those are famous and important and somewhat explanatory. But they don’t completely envelope and explain everything about who we are. They all seem to be politically charged in some way (like Marx’s Communism), or the theorist wants to rationalize questionable or selfish behavior (like Freud’s complexes), or the theorist couldn’t take it into other academic fields, so he just dropped it off to with Sociology, like a kid at daycare (like Peter Blau’s Exchange Theory and Nietzsche’s Atomism, which are actually Economics in disguise.)
But finally we have come in our class to the most applicable, meaningful, and substantial of theories; outside of the ontological assumption that we are all children of God and “He has sent [us] here,” of course. Symbolic interaction is true sociology at work. It defines every thing, whether actions or objects or people, in terms of independent meaning depending on independent situations. We first identify what is, and from that we identify what we know. What is so fantastic about this is that here we are studying social science (testing an hypothesis, in the simplest of terms), and we have a theory that by definition is the opposite of scientific. Essentially, any thing could have any meaning in any situation. It’s fool proof: nobody can prove it wrong, so nobody has an obligation to prove it right.
However, what makes symbolic interaction to useful is that it doesn’t claim to be predictive; but rather, descriptive. We act in our natural ways, and it conforms to those actions. The symbols conform to our actions. S.I. doesn’t force us to justify our actions or get us riled up and motivated to change the world. (Really, that’s why we have the other social sciences. Let them boss us around.) S.I. reminds us that we are different people in different situations.
One of my best friends acts completely different around friends than he does around his uncles, who mostly raised him on account of his deceased father. Other theories would take the role similar to that of the disappointed girlfriend who might break up with him because he’s “a completely different person when you’re around your uncles.” But S.I. seems to tell the girlfriend off. “Well,” S.I. says. “His uncles take him as a different object, and so he acts differently. Of course he is a completely different person! He’s being treated completely differently!”
My mission president made an attribute out of being taken as a different object to different people. I served in Taiwan, and they speak differently there than the Mainland Chinese do, much like the difference between the US and Britain. So, when speaking to someone from China, President would match that person’s accent. When he met a native Taiwanese person, he would speak and act to mirror that person.
The moral problem to be dispelled with this idea of changing from interaction to interaction is that we are not being true to ourselves. Or at least that’s the sanctimony that your neighborhood motivational speaker is reciting. But what defines a ‘self?’ Where does a ‘self’ come from? Is there a ‘self’ factory in China and we all have to keep the same ‘self’ that we are issued from childhood? S.I. says that our relationships are our respective ‘selves.’ If we act the exact same way regardless of the situation, then we are limiting our ‘selves’ to one kind of group. That may explain why people get awkward: they are not willing to have their ‘selves’ be taken in a different way than they usually are.
But finally we have come in our class to the most applicable, meaningful, and substantial of theories; outside of the ontological assumption that we are all children of God and “He has sent [us] here,” of course. Symbolic interaction is true sociology at work. It defines every thing, whether actions or objects or people, in terms of independent meaning depending on independent situations. We first identify what is, and from that we identify what we know. What is so fantastic about this is that here we are studying social science (testing an hypothesis, in the simplest of terms), and we have a theory that by definition is the opposite of scientific. Essentially, any thing could have any meaning in any situation. It’s fool proof: nobody can prove it wrong, so nobody has an obligation to prove it right.
However, what makes symbolic interaction to useful is that it doesn’t claim to be predictive; but rather, descriptive. We act in our natural ways, and it conforms to those actions. The symbols conform to our actions. S.I. doesn’t force us to justify our actions or get us riled up and motivated to change the world. (Really, that’s why we have the other social sciences. Let them boss us around.) S.I. reminds us that we are different people in different situations.
One of my best friends acts completely different around friends than he does around his uncles, who mostly raised him on account of his deceased father. Other theories would take the role similar to that of the disappointed girlfriend who might break up with him because he’s “a completely different person when you’re around your uncles.” But S.I. seems to tell the girlfriend off. “Well,” S.I. says. “His uncles take him as a different object, and so he acts differently. Of course he is a completely different person! He’s being treated completely differently!”
My mission president made an attribute out of being taken as a different object to different people. I served in Taiwan, and they speak differently there than the Mainland Chinese do, much like the difference between the US and Britain. So, when speaking to someone from China, President would match that person’s accent. When he met a native Taiwanese person, he would speak and act to mirror that person.
The moral problem to be dispelled with this idea of changing from interaction to interaction is that we are not being true to ourselves. Or at least that’s the sanctimony that your neighborhood motivational speaker is reciting. But what defines a ‘self?’ Where does a ‘self’ come from? Is there a ‘self’ factory in China and we all have to keep the same ‘self’ that we are issued from childhood? S.I. says that our relationships are our respective ‘selves.’ If we act the exact same way regardless of the situation, then we are limiting our ‘selves’ to one kind of group. That may explain why people get awkward: they are not willing to have their ‘selves’ be taken in a different way than they usually are.
Friday, January 23, 2009
"Rational Choice"
January 23, 2009--Rational Choice Theory
So here we’ve been spending time talking about Rational Choice in a very philosophical and theoretical way. We’ve asked important questions like “Where do our preferences come from?” and “Why do people make the choices they do?” and “Where do social patterns and order come from?” We’ve also picked it apart and identified certain ontological assumptions underlying the theory and critiquing those assumptions; the most important one being that humans are rational actors and we seek to “maximize our preferences,” whatever that means. However, one of the biggest, most glaringly obvious critiques that we have missed, unfortunately, pertains to this very conundrum of knowing what qualifies as “maximization of preference.” In order to know if one of these rational actors is maximizing his or her preferences, you have to 1) know what he or she is giving up when the decision is made and 2) quantify the satisfaction that is gained by the objective choice and also the satisfaction that could’ve been gained by another choice that would’ve been objectified if the actual choice had been foregone; and this is the only way to know if the unchosen choice should’ve been made.
How could we have missed this? After all, a measurable approach to the theory could prove it correct. Don’t we want to know what is true? We probably ignore this critique because other people have taken it up for us. They are called Economists. They do calculus and run regressions and measure GDP. They know how to maximize not preferences, but profits. Sociology got it started, and economics is finishing it. However, they are the only ones who can because they study measurable things. They can measure income and profit margins and cost differentials. Everything in the economy; labor, capital, time, natural resources; can be reduced to a dollar sign. But relationship utility is simply not liquid. We can’t compare relationships of different types and qualities because they are simply too complex for the implementation of a common denominator.
This is still kinda hard for us to accept, though. We like to be able to explain exactly why something occurred, and predict what is going to happen if we choose a certain path. That’s why we compare relationships to bank accounts, and how we need to make deposits before we make withdrawals. It is why I’m using such a thick explanatory way of writing right now. It is probably also why we have such a propensity to trust ourselves with as important things as politics and the economy and family relations. If I have my own interests in mind and want to do what is best for me, then I am always going to make the best decision. I am going to do wise things with my money and time and let the most qualified person boss me around (politics) and choose the best person to marry.
But sometimes we choose wrong. Wrong choices are manifested by uncontrollable debt and divorce; things we often experience. Despite this theory that says we won’t let bad things happen to ourselves because we are self-interested, we have to remember that self-interest is not only a function of who we are, but also when we are. We all change over time. That which we decide to hold in the highest priority (some would say that our priorities define us) changes. Self-interest is not a singular concept. It holds plurality inasmuch as one decision heavily influences many different times of our individual selves.
A smarter way to choose than “self-interestedness” might be “being-interestedness.” That is, we should act in ways that will contribute to the preference of our “being:” our future self, those who are close to us, those things that are most important to us, and our respective spouse to whom we are sealed.
Now, then, I call into question the definitions of “atomism” and “individual.” As mentioned above, an individual is not simply his or her own self. The fact that we are speaking in terms of sociology right now proves that we all are social beings. And “social beings,” semantically, implies multiplicity.
So here we’ve been spending time talking about Rational Choice in a very philosophical and theoretical way. We’ve asked important questions like “Where do our preferences come from?” and “Why do people make the choices they do?” and “Where do social patterns and order come from?” We’ve also picked it apart and identified certain ontological assumptions underlying the theory and critiquing those assumptions; the most important one being that humans are rational actors and we seek to “maximize our preferences,” whatever that means. However, one of the biggest, most glaringly obvious critiques that we have missed, unfortunately, pertains to this very conundrum of knowing what qualifies as “maximization of preference.” In order to know if one of these rational actors is maximizing his or her preferences, you have to 1) know what he or she is giving up when the decision is made and 2) quantify the satisfaction that is gained by the objective choice and also the satisfaction that could’ve been gained by another choice that would’ve been objectified if the actual choice had been foregone; and this is the only way to know if the unchosen choice should’ve been made.
How could we have missed this? After all, a measurable approach to the theory could prove it correct. Don’t we want to know what is true? We probably ignore this critique because other people have taken it up for us. They are called Economists. They do calculus and run regressions and measure GDP. They know how to maximize not preferences, but profits. Sociology got it started, and economics is finishing it. However, they are the only ones who can because they study measurable things. They can measure income and profit margins and cost differentials. Everything in the economy; labor, capital, time, natural resources; can be reduced to a dollar sign. But relationship utility is simply not liquid. We can’t compare relationships of different types and qualities because they are simply too complex for the implementation of a common denominator.
This is still kinda hard for us to accept, though. We like to be able to explain exactly why something occurred, and predict what is going to happen if we choose a certain path. That’s why we compare relationships to bank accounts, and how we need to make deposits before we make withdrawals. It is why I’m using such a thick explanatory way of writing right now. It is probably also why we have such a propensity to trust ourselves with as important things as politics and the economy and family relations. If I have my own interests in mind and want to do what is best for me, then I am always going to make the best decision. I am going to do wise things with my money and time and let the most qualified person boss me around (politics) and choose the best person to marry.
But sometimes we choose wrong. Wrong choices are manifested by uncontrollable debt and divorce; things we often experience. Despite this theory that says we won’t let bad things happen to ourselves because we are self-interested, we have to remember that self-interest is not only a function of who we are, but also when we are. We all change over time. That which we decide to hold in the highest priority (some would say that our priorities define us) changes. Self-interest is not a singular concept. It holds plurality inasmuch as one decision heavily influences many different times of our individual selves.
A smarter way to choose than “self-interestedness” might be “being-interestedness.” That is, we should act in ways that will contribute to the preference of our “being:” our future self, those who are close to us, those things that are most important to us, and our respective spouse to whom we are sealed.
Now, then, I call into question the definitions of “atomism” and “individual.” As mentioned above, an individual is not simply his or her own self. The fact that we are speaking in terms of sociology right now proves that we all are social beings. And “social beings,” semantically, implies multiplicity.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Gift, Exchange, and Duty
Individual scriptural passages can be a rich, powerful source of knowledge and truth. When two or more passages are put together and we study them in context of one another, we learn even more. Sometimes, however, we must have understanding of other scripture in order to understand another. For example, D&C 130: 20-21 may be one of the most misunderstood passages of scripture we have today. It explains how every blessing we receive is predicated on our obedience to a corresponding commandment. This would be an example of an exchange-based relationship. We get something in return for our payment of obedience. Unfortunately, we often read this scripture to mean that our blessings are dependent on our obedience. Thus, in order to receive blessings, we must obey. Hence, our motivation for obedience becomes the blessings we receive after and contingently. Looking at our society today, this misunderstanding is quite understandable. Our legal system is based on crime and not cruel or unusual punishment. Our economy is run by an understanding of cost and benefit. We understand our world in terms of cause and effect, so why not apply that to things spiritual?
This misunderstanding can lead to frustrating questions, such as “Why do bad things happen to good people?” or “If I obey I’ll have trials. If I disobey, I’ll have trials. I may as well do what I want.” Well, this question gets cleared up when a person realizes the real motivation, the real reason, which God gives to us for the hard work and sacrifice associated with obedience. The scripture doesn’t say “If ye don’t want lung cancer, keep my commandments.” It doesn’t say “If ye don’t want to suffer, keep my commandments.” And it certainly doesn’t say “If ye want blessings, keep my commandments.” If we love God, then we will obey Him, and everything else will follow. This would more closely resemble a gift relationship.
Notwithstanding these elements of gift, are we able to give God a gift? A pure gift is, by definition, given out of the recipient’s interest and need. I have a hard time thinking that God needs something that we have, and our interactions with Him are "gifts." On the other hand, the value of a gift in based on the relationship between the giver and the recipient. The objective good or service is sentimental, not intrinsic; meaning that it would have a completely different value and take on a different meaning if given outside the relationship. But our relationship with God is completely different from any other relationship we have. So in trying to marginalize the tokens (whether gifts or exchanges) of our relationship with God, we’re stuck in a maze of semantics.
What might be closer to those tokens might be deals done out of duty. First of all, a major part of our relationship with God (also defined as ‘religion’) is following His appointed prophet. And multiple prophets have spoken of our duty to God. We even have an award by the same name, which if achieved accompanies an assumption of piety on the part of the recipient. President Monson, in near thematic habit, exhorts us to “Do [our] duty. It is best.”
Moreover, God ultimately does not tolerate imperfection. Gifts and exchange automatically assumes imperfection on the part of one or both of the players, hence the need for the transaction. Duty does not imply an owing tone. We do things because we’re supposed to; because God tells us to, and because we love Him. We don’t offer these tokens to God because we want something in return (exchange) or because we see a need that we can resolve (gift). With a sense of duty are we called to the work; not hired or invited.
This misunderstanding can lead to frustrating questions, such as “Why do bad things happen to good people?” or “If I obey I’ll have trials. If I disobey, I’ll have trials. I may as well do what I want.” Well, this question gets cleared up when a person realizes the real motivation, the real reason, which God gives to us for the hard work and sacrifice associated with obedience. The scripture doesn’t say “If ye don’t want lung cancer, keep my commandments.” It doesn’t say “If ye don’t want to suffer, keep my commandments.” And it certainly doesn’t say “If ye want blessings, keep my commandments.” If we love God, then we will obey Him, and everything else will follow. This would more closely resemble a gift relationship.
Notwithstanding these elements of gift, are we able to give God a gift? A pure gift is, by definition, given out of the recipient’s interest and need. I have a hard time thinking that God needs something that we have, and our interactions with Him are "gifts." On the other hand, the value of a gift in based on the relationship between the giver and the recipient. The objective good or service is sentimental, not intrinsic; meaning that it would have a completely different value and take on a different meaning if given outside the relationship. But our relationship with God is completely different from any other relationship we have. So in trying to marginalize the tokens (whether gifts or exchanges) of our relationship with God, we’re stuck in a maze of semantics.
What might be closer to those tokens might be deals done out of duty. First of all, a major part of our relationship with God (also defined as ‘religion’) is following His appointed prophet. And multiple prophets have spoken of our duty to God. We even have an award by the same name, which if achieved accompanies an assumption of piety on the part of the recipient. President Monson, in near thematic habit, exhorts us to “Do [our] duty. It is best.”
Moreover, God ultimately does not tolerate imperfection. Gifts and exchange automatically assumes imperfection on the part of one or both of the players, hence the need for the transaction. Duty does not imply an owing tone. We do things because we’re supposed to; because God tells us to, and because we love Him. We don’t offer these tokens to God because we want something in return (exchange) or because we see a need that we can resolve (gift). With a sense of duty are we called to the work; not hired or invited.
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