Another look at the success of strict churches

When I first read Laurence Iannaccone’s “Why Strict Churches Are Strong” (PDF alert), I was quite enamored with it. I guess I don’t know why I haven’t written a post on it (or maybe I have, but can’t find it). Anyway, I was reading an article from the St. Louis Today that referenced this research.

Iannaccone compared churches along a continuum of strictness, which he sometimes calls “distinctiveness,” and which includes among other items dietary guidelines, dress and grooming practices, time commitments, and standards of sexual morality.  The result of these distinctive membership requirements is that members tend to orient their lives fully around the institution, sometimes crowding out other pursuits and relationships. For the Jehovah’s Witnesses, this separation is a direct goal: the young Witness in my home explained how his family socialized primarily with other Witnesses and avoided interreligious activities.   For Mormons, the separation is an indirect effect: we’re strongly encouraged to make personal connections in our neighborhoods, and many of us do, but our distinctive way of life and the time we devote to serving in the church mean that often—not always—our social lives center mostly around our ward, or congregation.

What Iannaccone found was that the strictness of a church correlated positively with increased commitment, greater contributions of resources and time, and closer ties to the group.  The strict behavioral guidelines yielded higher benefits to members.  To understand why this is so, consider how much of a person’s experience at church depends on what others bring to the board: friendly greetings, musical gifts, excellent teaching, social support, solidarity, enthusiasm, love.  Strict behavioral requirements have the effect of retaining only the members who are most committed, most enthusiastic, most engaged.  Those who choose to participate fully reap the rewards of a vibrant community life.

Of course, the author disagrees with one area:

I don’t want my money back.

The other day Madam Curie had a blog post, “Keep moving forward.” Therein she discussed the trend from certain ex-Mormons to describe their experience within Mormonism as victimization, and she wrote about her resolution not to see herself as a victim.

A commenter, Chandelle, wrote something I thought was pretty insightful.

Madam Curie, I feel much the same way you do about your membership. I don’t have regrets. Well, that’s not true. I do regret that I subsumed myself, my identity and my ethics, to the Church. I regret that I quieted my tensions, that I never spoke out and gave a voice to my concerns. But I don’t regret joining the Church or the years I spent within the system. If not for the Church, I wouldn’t have met my partner, and I might not have had children. How could I ever regret that? Without the Church, I might not have had the opportunity – the need, really – to so clearly define my individual beliefs and ethics. I only did that against enormous opposition. The Church has been instrumental in so many important transformations in my life. I’m not a victim. I don’t want my money back.

If your religious harmony simply scapegoats atheists…

…then your religious harmony isn’t harmonious at all.

My religious discussion group has been trying to temper out a way to seek religious harmony. I’ve been a bit skeptical of the efforts, because the mentor of the group (who is the one with this lofty goal) doesn’t realize that his own religious views are not so harmonious with others’.

The mentor believes that people have a “god within them,” that grows and progresses as the individual grows and progresses. This “god within,” (which he claims is called different things by different religions but is indicative of a similar idea)…actually doesn’t seem like much of a god at all. It is not perfect, not omniscient, not omnipotent, omnipresent, or omnibenevolent, but simply represents an individual at a stage in time.

But, despite the oddness (and dubious theism) of this definition of god, the real issue is that it doesn’t mesh well with what others do project in gods.

A god within does not mesh well with the externally existing god that most theists propose. A god within that is only as powerful, as virtuous, as enlightened as the person who listens to it is quite foreign from the omnibenevolent, potent, and knowing classical formulations of god. To reduce the classical formulations of god to these anemic “gods within” doesn’t promote harmony — it actually is a certain deal-breaker for most theists.

What is the Final Destination for Ex-Mormons and Apostates?

My latest post…but it’s at Mormon Matters. Discuss either here or there.

It seems the crowd at Mormon Matters has very reasonable beliefs on things. But I’m wondering…if I polled all members (not just people who are likely to surf the online Mormon blogs, say), would I get similar answers? Do Mormons truly believe in such an inclusive afterlife? Will Hell (or Outer Darkness) truly be so sparsely populated?

The so-called destructiveness of gay marriage

In response to the LDS church’s seemingly monumental support of certain gay rights (“common sense” anti-discrimination measures — they haven’t said anything about civil unions and they are sticking to their guns against gay marriage), which others commented on elsewhere, there was a terrific post on Mormon Matters from a guest writer, John Gustav-Wrathall, about the Gay Rights Paradox.

In the Mormon Matters discussion, I saw the sharks swarm around John…see, I don’t have anything against the commenter Jared as a person, but he does seem to telegraph his strategies in advance. Now, his current hypothesis he is espousing is that he feels when people take “radical” positions, it is because they failed to consult the scriptures. If one consulted the scriptures, then they would have no problem following the Prophet and believing in the church’s position.

I wanted to warn John about this tactic…but John didn’t fall for the bait. He took the discussion offline (where, I guess the two may be emailing back and forth now.)

Well, I went to John’s short post linking to the Mormon Matters discussion from his blog. Despite the short post with no additional information added, there was a bit of a discussion going on here. And here I saw that Christopher Bigelow had commented.

What responsibilities do we have to our communities?

I was reading a great article from Mormon Matters about some of the old Mormon pioneers and the handcart companies. Honestly, I’ll be the first to admit that that period of history doesn’t really interest me…so the constant emphasis on the pioneers in the church doesn’t do much for me.

So I guess I haven’t really dived deeply into what the pioneer stood for before. The post at Mormon Matters was a good opportunity for me to get a glimpse. One part that was interesting…

I admire Levi Savage for following his leaders even when he knew they were wrong because he wanted to serve the other Saints when they would need it.  He did not leave those people who he loved because he could not agree with others who had openly chastised him.  This sets up a model for me of how I feel that I can respond to the challenges of this kind.  I am not advocating a blind obedience because I think it is important to challenge incorrect thinking; but when that is done, I sense that it is important to maintain fellowship in order to help those who may be hurt in the future by incorrect or mis-informed decisions.  I should note that this is how I feel and that others rightful [sic] do not feel the same.

Atheists are God’s whistleblowers

There’s this quotation that I’ve seen twice now…first from a USAToday article, and then from the New York Times. Samir Selmanovic, who I have previously never heard of, writes that:

Atheism at its best grabs us by the collar and throws us to the ground, demanding to see lives well lived, forcing us to dig deeper and live up to the best of our own religions…Atheists are God’s whistleblowers.

What a job, what a job.

But again, let’s take it in context…it’s not really for God. At least, not for God as any externally existing thing. Rather, it is for God as an idea propagated by people who have the chance to get things rather counterintuitive if left to their own devices. I have seen a similar sentiment yet again (so I guess the third time truly is the charm and this is why I’m making this post), at the blog Young Stranger.

Happy Birthday, Irresistible (Dis)Grace!

One year ago today, I got this crazy idea…what if I could start a blog about my thoughts of being a Mormon, but of not being a Mormon…my lack of understanding of my culture and heritage, but my forced and ingrained living of my culture and heritage. I wondered if I could meet a different kind of believer than the ones in my ward (no offense to them), and I wondered if I could meet a different kind of nonbelievers than the ones in the…well, I don’t know what non-believer wards are (but I mean no offense to them either.)

And so, I started Irresistible (Dis)Grace. I didn’t really know what I was doing, how far I’d get, or how long I’d even last (after all, this blog had a specific niche, and I thought I would run out of “topics”).

Well, apparently, if nothing else, at least I reached the 1 year mark!

Dale McGowan’s Unconditional Love of Reality

This is a snippet from Dale McGowan’s recent article, “The Unconditional Love of Reality.”

I was unconditionally smitten with reality and began at some point working on the Big Question: Does God exist?If I had any predisposition, it was the usual human one: a desire that it all be true. How could I have stood at that casket and wished for anything but the existence of God, since that might continue the existence of my father? But my love of reality naturally came with a serious distaste for self-deception. The truth itself is more beautiful than an illusion, even when that truth is uncomfortable. I would be thrilled if there was a God; I would be thrilled if there wasn’t. I just wanted to know.

In short, I took the question seriously.

Three obstacles presented themselves immediately. The first was the claim that the question simply can’t be asked. “It’s not that kind of question,” I remember a Sunday school teacher telling our class, without explaining what that could possibly mean. For the sake of the inquiry, I had to assume that was untrue and see what would happen if I asked it.

The second obstacle was the wrath of God. Doubt is a sin, probing questions an offense to the divine. After some thought, I decided that God was unlikely to be so insecure or frankly egotistical as to punish me eternally just because I was honestly wrong about him.

The third hurdle was the notion that even if it were a question like any other, there was simply no way to answer it. You can neither prove nor disprove God.

I was in high school before I surmounted that one. I realized I didn’t have to answer the question “Does God exist?” Must we believe all assertions that can’t be disproven? Russell’s Teapot says no. So a perfectly askable and appropriate question was “Why do other people believe in God, and are those reasons convincing?”

This is really the deal. Many people confuse the question at hand. It’s not whether something exist…but whether we are persuaded to believe something exists.

Christmas: When truth is not useful

This is a quotation from a commenter and guest podcaster, Brian, at the Mormon Expression podcast on Fowler’s Stages of Faith (speaking of which, I need to listen to this when I have the chance!).

The transition from 4 to 5 is often prompted by being tired of the flatness of the color and flavor of faith caused by hyper rationalism, from deconstructing everything into pieces, and from constantly pointing out that the great and powerful Oz is “just” a man behind the curtain.

I think one of the best examples is the Christmas holiday. Why would a grown adult participate in the Christmas holiday when they know that Christ wasn’t actually born on December 25th, and there really isn’t a man named Santa Claus that flies around delivering presents? It’s either true or it’s false, right? It’s false. But then we might find out that participating in all the holiday fun actually brings us “peace on earth, goodwill towards man.” (whatever that means). We end up experiencing the “Spirit of Christmas.” We loop right back around to Christmas being true still, even though we know that Santa Claus isn’t real.

This quote’s interesting to think about (true =/= useful…and false =/= useless). I’d simply disagree is on the applicability and usefulness of untrue things.