Kristen blogged the other day asking what kind of reader we are. Perhaps it is the residual effects of grad school, but my reading has been intermittent. One of my goals for this summer is to immerse myself in good reading.
This was a great start. As an intermittent reader, it has been a long time since a book (other than a pot boiler) caught my attention. Krakauer's examination of Mormonism certainly did that. Starting the 300 page book Friday night, I finished it Sunday afternoon. Part of that is undoubtedly the fact that he can write, the other was the material.
Growing up in the American West, I have had some exposure to the Mormon Church. I have relatives in the church, and remember our family discussions hapless Mormon missionaries who stumbled into a family that a) liked to argue, and b) knew something about Mormonism. Looking back, many of those young kids had no chance!
But even with that background, I had no idea (as Hokie suggested in the comments) of the fundamentalist wing of the church (or more accurately "wings"). Krakauer looks at the widespread fundy sects that populate North America and continue to practice polygamy (and worse). One such nutcase was the one who kidnapped and "married" Elizabeth Smart.
But what does this tell us about faith in general? Why did Krakauer's book catch so much attention?
Part of it is the nature of the Mormon church. While I find their theology suspect (to say the least), it is their institutionalism that bothers me the most. The church is famous for its secrecy and refuses to allow scholars access to the best sources fearing, of course, that the church will be portrayed badly. As Krakauer recounts, the church sees their history as sacred and wants it all to be, as they put it "faith promoting." A leader said in 1981: "There isa temptation . . . to want to tell everything, whether it is worthy of faith promoting or not. Some things that are true are not useful. . . . In an effort to be objective, impartial, and scholarly, a writer or a teacher may unwittingly be giving equalt time to the adversary. . . . In the Church we are not neutral."
As a historian, I find that approach chilling, and this may explain why I get so annoyed with those who would impose their religious beliefs (Christian, Mormon, whatever) on the past.
Several other points from the book resonated. One was Krakauer's assessment of Mormonism as quintessentially American: intensely individualistic and collective all at the same time. The Mormon belief in direct revelation from God means that each individual can, and often does, devise their own separate theology or divine call. But to counter that, Joseph Smith and the modern church try to clamp down on that individual revelation with the conformity of the institution.
Like I said, the theology of the LDS church (fundamentalist or other) leaves me cold, but I also find parallels with the mainstream evangelical church. The emphasis on the personal relationship with God has, in my opinion (and certainly not just mine), led to intensely self-directed theologies. The evangelical church sounds very similar to conservative Mormons in their direct embracing of capitalism and wealth, as well as their insistence on direct revelation from God. Of course, in most people, that direct revelation (or belief therein) is innocuous, but there are those who take that to heart in a destructive way. Certainly, Dobson, Falwell and LaHaye (to name a few) have the arrogance of someone who thinks they have the ear of God. That certainty should be a caution to all of us.
On education: one of the men interviewed in this book was a part of the most fundamentalist sects (and had plural wives, etc.) before he was excommunicated. He relates the wonder of going to college and learning about other things. He returned to tell his "prophet"
"there's a professor over there trying to tell us the earth is four and a half billion years old, but the religion says it is only six thousand years old. . . . Which shows you why education is such a problem for the Work [fundamentalist sect]. You take someone like me, who was always as stalwart as could be, and then you ship him off to get an education and the guy goes and apostatizes on you. Happens over and over again. And every time it does, it makes the leaders more inclined to keep people from learning."
Evangelicals have done something similar, but in their case by simply purging the schools of thought. Southern Baptists stripped their seminaries of anything thoughtful until the seminaries and many of the other schools have become places of indoctrination rather than education. Homeschooling and attempts to limit exposure to scientific and historical knowledge has, unfortunately, had the same impulse. If you listen to religious radio (which I am trying to give up) you will hear people talking about how to keep your kids from "turning" when they go to college. Education is something to be feared. Don't listen to people like me.
On victimization. One of the more fascinating parts of the book had to do with the Mountain Meadows massacre--a famous event in the American west where Mormons killed an entire wagon train of non-Mormons and blamed it on the Indians (naturally). Some blamed it on the wagon train's affluence and the Mormon's relative state of poverty. But, as Krakauer says: "the wagon train from Arkansas was probably imperiled less by its affluence than by the Saints'
carefully nurtured sense of persecution." I immediately thought of the repeated mantra that conservative Christians are being persecuted in a country where they control much of the political landscape. As I have suggested elsewhere, it is much easier to rally the troops by calling on their sense of victimization or persecution than by telling them that they control most of what they want. If you concede the latter, much harder to take responsibility for the things you don't like.
Enough for now. If you haven't read the book, I think it is well worth the time.
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