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.