MrShorty

stargazing. I have 6 inch and 12 inch Dobsonian telescopes. When the weather permits, I love to haul them out away from the city lights and see what I can see.

I like to think I'm open minded (but who doesn't like to think they are open minded?). For me, I think this particular issue falls in line with similar issues like slavery in the Bible or genocide in the Bible where the scripture/prophet(s) claim that God commanded/approved of something and we only have the scripture's/prophet's word that God said or did something. As noted, I would like to think that I am open to the possibility that God said or did things that seem so immoral to me. However, in cases like these, something about the immorality of the practice -- something about how the practice seems so anti-thetical to my understanding of the gospel and goodness and the nature of God and man -- demands a higher burden of proof than the explanation that God did not do what fallible prophets and errant scripture claim of Him. I think I have mentioned here before that, IMO, Ben Spackman captures the real problem of the priesthood and temple ban in his blog post about slavery in the Bible: https://benspackman.com/2019/11/gospel-doctrine-lesson-40-colossians-and-philippians-but-mostly-philemon/ Spackman writes, Spackman writes in the context of slavery, but I find the same thing can be said of allegations that God commanded genocide or that God commanded/approved of a race based ban on priesthood ordination and temple ordinances (I think it is important to remember that this wasn't just about who could officiate priesthood ordinances, but also who could receive ordinances that we claim are necessary for exaltation). Even if I ever find myself convinced that God caused or approved of these "evils," I expect these issues to still end up under the problem of evil umbrella, as we then have to wrestle with the whys and wherefores and such of God who can and does inflict (or allow to be inflicted) practices on His people that seem so contrary to what we believe is right and good and true. Adding as a hedge against "presentism" or some other "maybe we in the 21st century don't or can't understand God's moral calculus on these things. I think it is pretty solidly accepted in LDS circles that a major purpose of our mortal experience is learning to judge good and evil, right and wrong. IMO, if we are too quick to simply write this sort of thing off as "God's morality is inscrutable to mere mortals," then I think we are failing in some way to pursue our purpose in this life and learning how to judge right and wrong. Perhaps at the end of the day, I can begrudgingly accept that I just don't understand right and wrong the same way God understands right and wrong, but I am going to be uncomfortable with an inscrutable morality until the moment I can stand before God and ask Him to help me understand it.

I think one of the most compelling things that I got out of Paul Reeves "Let's Talk About Race and Priesthood" was when Br. Reeves drew a parallel between the priesthood and temple ban and the problem of evil. I have long observed that part of the problem of evil is whether or not God causes or just allows evil to occur. God could have prevented the holocaust, but He didn't, so somehow He must have tacitly approved it. God could have prevented the wars that are currently raging in the world, but He didn't, so He must tacitly approve them. One of the never ending issues that gets brought up in the problem of evil is whether God causes evil or simply allows evil. Because we usually assume that God is all-powerful so He could intervene, I often see an implicit conclusion that God somehow approves of the evil that occurs in the world, including human on human evil. You are correct that God intervened in some remarkable and powerful ways to restore His church to the Earth. I'm not sure why He chose to allow the church to adopt and perpetuate this particular policy, but I don't believe that He wanted it. Somehow, just as with other evils that exist in the world, He chose not to intervene as the saints adopted some awful beliefs and practices. I don't have an answer for why He would do that, just as I don't have an answer for why God allows other evils to exist in the world.

I don't think it's a question of the historical happenings, but the interpretation. In a couple of podcast/youtube videos, Scott Woodward made the observation that, the very first time that the combined quorums of the First Presidency and Quorum of the 12 approached God, unitedly prepared to receive and accept the direction from God to extend priesthood to all, God granted the revelation. (See the race and priesthood series of the church history matters podcast at doctrine and covenants central). The implication that I see in this is that maybe Pres. McKay received no answer because the Q15 and the rest of the church writ large was unwilling/unable to receive and accept the revelation that God wanted to give. The revelation to extend the priesthood had to wait until the top quorums of the church and a threshold of the lay membership had prepared themselves to receive and accept that revelation. I think I've said before here that the history of the priesthood and temple ban is a solid case study in what we believe about how God reveals things to the church. Perhaps in some future day, we will have a similar conversation about LGBT issues (and the hiring of brother Sherinian will be one data point in that larger narrative).

I'm finding a growing number of faithful LDS who are much less than "absolutely sure" that it was of God. That's a big part of why the priesthood and temple ban is such a prominent issue for the church. Some are convinced that it came from God, others aren't, and nobody seems to have clarity to support their certainty. Certainly, Pres. McKay's experience is one data point in the overall analysis, but I'm unconvinced that it "absolutely" proves that the ban was of God. However, my intent is not to dive into that rabbit hole. I find it interesting that the church's preferred answer to any of this hand-wringing over choices that the church makes is to have us choose to just trust them, that they are accurately representing God's will in everything they do, and that we as lay members are not responsible for the church's choices or doctrines or policies. What do we thing God wants us to do with our disagreements with the institutional church?

My apologies. I wasn't intending to accuse any individual of anything. My intent was to explore this idea that, when we find something uncomfortable in what the church is doing that we as LDS tend towards "silent loyalty," and whether that is a good thing or not.

This probably goes way deeper than just who is filling what job posting in the church, but I am a bit unsettled by this attitude. For example (please focus on this as an example of a principle and let's not get bogged down in the specifics of the history), I think I've mentioned in this forum that I am often more troubled by the perpetuation of the priesthood and temple ban until '78 than its implementation back in the mid-19th century. As Pres. Oaks illustrated in his remarks at the Be One Celebration in 2018, this kind of "silent loyalty while not having a testimony" of whatever teaching or practice or policy or hire seems to be a part of what perpetuates false doctrines, practices, teachings, and bad hires. But, the church would descend into chaos if every member had to "vote" on each and every choice the church makes. At the end of the day, I think @Grunt has the right idea. We ought to feel we have the right to be vocal about things we find problematic at church. But, we also have real trouble with questions of "activism towards the church" (as Elder Corbett taught us) and anything that even vaguely resembles it. A single PR professional hire is probably relatively low on the priority list, so I doubt this specific scenario is going to have much impact. Even so, I find myself still troubled by the idea that we as church members need to quietly accept whatever the leadership throws at us without ever expressing concerns or doubts or contrary opinions.

The essence of the statement from C. S. Lewis that I quoted above. I agree that "soul growth" (or other way to say that evil and suffering in this life contribute to our eternal progression) is one of the central parts of our theodicy (along with free will). While I do see something compelling about this explanation for the problem of evil, I also note that it still seems incomplete. Some people lead a charmed life and only face mild suffering (yours truly) while others wallow in near constant poverty or illness or suffer other injustices. While I lead a charmed life and retain a belief in God, I see others whose suffering leads them to "curse God and die," and I'm not sure that I would not follow suit if I were placed in the same scenario. I think "soul growth" works as a partial explanation for the problem of evil, but I'm not sure it fully and completely answers the issue.

@zil2 You are correct that the creatio ex nihilo group has to grapple with God as the creator of evil, where those of us who don't subscribe to creatio ex nihilo have the luxury of being able to say that evil exists independent of God. But that is only part of the problem of evil. As it relates to the OP, there is also the problem of various ways that evil and suffering exist (sports injury, war, natural disaster, illness, accidents, etc.) that God (we usually believe) could intervene to prevent or alleviate, but He chooses not to intervene.

Agreed. A little epistemic humility seems wise in these cases.

Your probably right. I encountered something C. S. Lewis wrote in A Grief Observed where he wrote So, I think you may be right. The problem of evil reveals bits of what we believe about God, what we believe about ourselves, what we believe about this mortal sojourn. I might add here that, if this is true, you can probably count me in among those who don't understand God correctly. Perhaps part of why the problem of evil has become a point of study for me is in an attempt to come to a correct understanding of who and what God is.

Curious timing that this thread would come up now. I think I am correctly seeing that the OP is not completely serious, but I would note that the problem of evil has been a central part of my own research recently. Most commentators on the problem suggest that the problem of evil is the most common reason why people refuse to convert to Christianity (or theism more generally) or the most common reason they deconvert. I bumped against a bit of [Elder] C. S. Lewis's story and how the problem of evil was a major factor in his own resistance to conversion. I understand that we can point out how silly it is to see a minor sports injury as proof positive that God doesn't exist, when there are much more important and significant evils in the world. It still seems like the problem of evil is still a major stumbling block for many people.

Yente, Yente, Yente! Is this what matchmaking has come to? Matchmaking via reaction to internet forum posts? ...Not...that...I'm sentimental It's just that I'm terrified...

I have recently finished Brian McLaren's Faith After Doubt and am currently reading his Do I Stay Christian. It seems to me that McLaren echoes the OP, with perhaps more of a progressive Christian leaning rather than a conservative Christian leaning. One thread that ran through McLaren's writing was a question of "gatekeepers." Should a church be open and inviting with minimal entrance requirements and boundary maintenance, or should it be more like a country club with extensive entrance requirements and strict boundary maintenance. IMO, this is where a lot of the hard work for churches is happening right now -- deciding how to balance a desire to be "inclusive" (to reflect the Great Commission that the gospel is universally applicable to all) against the need to protect the flock from being preyed on by "the world." I suppose we will see how well we do, but it does feel like Christianity is struggling a bit right now with that balancing act.

One of the most interesting insights that I got from Reeves' book (I mentioned in my book review/summary thread) was the parallel between the "problem of prophetic fallibility" and the "problem of evil." In the book, Reeves focuses on human agency, as so many of LDS discussions of the problem of evil do. I'm not convinced that human agency alone sufficiently answers the problem of evil, though it certainly belongs in the discussion. This is another thing that this issue and the problem of evil have in common -- whether through direct causation, or idly standing by while stuff happens, an omnipotent God bears some responsibility on some level when bad things (including race based teachings and policies) happen in the church. I don't have all of the answers, but somehow these issues need some way for us to understand God's role in allowing, implementing, tolerating, etc. beliefs and practices that do not live up to the ideals of eternal truth and morality and righteousness.

I recommend caution against making this a definitive characteristic of what true Scotsmen faithful LDS believe or don't believe. Part of the reason I mention Patrick Mason, Paul Reeve (the author of Let's Talk About Race and the Priesthood published by Deseret Book), Scott Woodward, and other faithful LDS in this discussion is because I would classify them as faithful LDS who don't believe the priesthood and temple ban is of divine origin. Back to @mikbone's comment about core vs. other doctrines, let's not make this particular piece of difficult history a part of the core doctrines that we believe all faithful Scotsmen LDS will believe.

@zil2 I understand the idea, and I agree that there is at least part of God's judgement that considers what our parents, teachers, leaders, and even prophets have and have not taught us. At what point does this idea end up at, "none of us is accountable for our sins, because, at some level, our sins are just a reflection of ways that our parents, teachers, leaders, and prophets have failed to teach us correct principles." If you will indulge a somewhat tongue in cheek case study, I am reminded of something Senator Harry Reid said in a speech at BYU. He said that he is often asked how he can be both a Democrat and a Mormon. He said that he often answers that he is a Democrat because he is a Mormon, followed by some discussion of the different lessons he learned from parents and church leaders and scriptures that motivate him to be a Democrat. Now it is well known among LDS church members (that lean very heavily Republican) that being a Democrat is a sin (not really, but let's pretend for this brief moment). Considering the Sen Reid committed this sin because of things he learned from parents and the church, will Sen. Reid be absolved of the sin of being a Democrat, and his parents and leaders and such will be held accountable for his sin? In the "proving contraries" theme, we also have a long history of talking about personal accountability and moral agency wherein we emphasize that we are each responsible for our own instruction and learning. I don't claim to know how God will judge us, but, as I noted, I think God will perfectly know how to balance personal accountability against things that we did not know because others around us did not teach us. I'm not sure what that means for the hear and now and how I engage with what our prophets and apostles teach.

Looking at the history on Wikipedia, human courts have had a mixed history with these "Nuremburg" defenses. I guess I'm just not as convinced that God's court universally accepts a "Nuremburg" defense. I trust that God's judgements are a perfect blend of justice and mercy ("Where justice, love, and mercy meet In harmony divine" as Sister Snow put it), and I'm sure God knows how best to handle, "I followed the prophet against my own better judgement on that issue, because I decided that is what You would have me do," and "I chose not follow the prophet and follow my own best judgement on that issue, because I decided that is what You would have me do," situations. I don't claim to know exactly how God judges those, but I trust that God knows best. Of course, that trust doesn't always help in the here and now.

I suppose I ought to be careful speaking for Brother Mason, but I don't recall him every saying anything like, "I wish those who believe in divine origins of the priesthood ban (or any other issues he's talked about) would leave the church or be quiet" or anything similar. If you don't think it is out of line, In any case, whatever Mason's views might be, I'm inclined towards saying that, " If we encourage those with[out] doubts to leave, then we all are lost." [If that isn't too far removed from your intention with that statement.] I recall some years ago, in one of those evolution-creation threads here (or a thread adjacent to one of them), asking if we thought that Elder Joseph Fielding Smith and Professor Steven Peck could share a pew together, as contentious as the creation-evolution debate can be. It sometimes seems to me that this is a central part of whether or not "LDS Protestantism" ends up becoming another splinter group or whether we manage to stay together -- our ability (or inability) to share a pew with someone who believes something different from us. There is a lot of discussion to be had here (like, as @mikbone mentioned, questions of "core" vs. "esoteric" doctrines and which "core" doctrines are necessary to be considered LDS and how to maintain boundaries around those core doctrines and so on).

I agree that all of these different people exist. I find myself disliking what is said by the strident, "Russell Nelson is no prophet of any God I care to follow" types, because I don't feel like they help me find a foothold on this slippery slope. I find that I like people like Patrick Mason who (for example) publicly says that he doesn't believe that the priesthood and temple ban is of divine origin, but still wants to support the church and its leaders. I think it would be unfair to him and others like him to lump him in with those who stridently claim that Pres. Nelson is not a prophet, but I know there are some who would try to push Mason and others like him into the same end of the continuum. I don't know how the orthodox members of the church ought to manage discerning who is a sincere doubter from the strident unbelievers, but it seems like an important endeavor. I think I've said before that this journey feels like the proverbial slippery slope. My own discernment around who is a "sincere doubter" vs. the "strident disbeliever" is usually based on who is helping me find footholds, which is probably not a good vantage point for telling everyone else how to discern who fits where on the spectrum. That said, I really appreciate you and anyone who is willing to embrace and encourage a fellow Saint wrestling with doubts and questions and concerns. I think the absolute worst feeling on this journey is the feeling that your fellow co-religionists are thinking (or even say) something like, "don't let the door hit you on the butt on the way out." Might just have to agree to disagree, but I find this is at the heart of most of my own doubts and concerns and questions (yes, and even the things I reject). In a church led by prophets and apostles built on the rock of revelation, when prophets make mistakes, it can call into question other claims that prophets and apostles have made. A statement like Goff shared that implies a kind of "de facto infallibility" status on the prophets feels like it misses so many of the issues.

My first reaction when I first saw this: Most histories I see claim that Martin Luther never wanted nor intended to separate from Catholicism when he first wrote his 95 theses (and maybe nailed them to the door of the church). But, for some reason, others in Catholicism, rather than engage with Luther's doubts and concerns and criticisms, chose to push him out of the Catholic church which led to the Reformation (obviously, I'm simplifying/oversimplifying the history). In the same way, it really seems to me that the conservative LDS church, when faced with "LDS Protestant" doubts and concerns and criticisms tend to call "wolf in sheep's clothing" or some such rather than really engage and wrestle and struggle with the "LDS Protestant's" doubts and concerns and criticisms. In this respect, I think Goff's observation is likely true. A "schism" is on the horizon. It sometimes seems to me that Goff and other ultraorthodox like him insist that the LDS Protestants bear all the blame for the coming schism and never want to consider their own role in promoting said schism. I think one of the most frustrating ideas that comes from them is a call for "progmos" to hurry up and leave the church, because it's inevitable (somehow) and the church has no place for progressives (or doubters or some such). I find it interesting that Goff chooses a quote about following the prophet as if the prophet cannot make any mistakes. I find that almost all of my own "LDS Protestant" views center around the question of prophetic fallibility and what God expects us to believe and do in the face of prophetic errors. I'm no Luther, so won't go publishing my own theses, but, if I did, they would probably center around the exact same issue that Goff chooses to highlight here. I suppose we'll see what happens. I found it interesting in my reading of Paul Reeve's history of the priesthood and temple ban that he noted that the LDS church avoided the schisms the plagued other Protestant denominations around the race and slavery issues, in spite of having plenty of people on both sides of that particular divide. Perhaps Goff is wrong and maybe the church will figure out how to keep people together in spite of such a divisive issue. If there are bridges to be found, I doubt that Goff will be the one to find and build those bridges (someone mentioned Givens -- he might be able to do it, though).

I had heard this before. I don't think I heard it as a youth, it was sometime after growing up, but I don't recall exactly when I first heard it.

@JohnsonJones The parallel I see in your law school analogy from the post I made earlier is that those who drop out of law school for whatever reason haven't settled for something lesser. They may go on to be doctors or teachers or sales people or business owners or plumbers or mechanics (gasp trades?) or some other career. It isn't (or shouldn't be) something "lesser" to take on a different career. Lawyer might be the "celestial" career, but terrestial (teacher, maybe?) or telestial (dcotor or trade) are also acceptable careers. The key is to choose which career you will be happiest in. As I tried to explain earlier, what strikes me when Pres. Oaks (and others) describe this version of the 3 kingdoms is that they appear to line up horizontally (all kingdoms are equally desirable) rather than vertically (kingdoms ranked as most desirable to least desirable). The key is finding the kingdom where you will be happiest.

I don't know if any of this will make sense, but I'll share my reaction to Pres. Oaks' description of the degrees of glory. tl:dr -- it begins to feel very universalist to me. It has been often observed that the early saints were reluctant to accept "the Vision" (D&C 76) because, to them, it was too universalist. To some degree, Pres. Oaks is showing ways that we can interpret this in a universalist sense. Read on if you want to try to make sense of my thinking (don't worry, I'm not sure it makes sense to me, so no shame if it doesn't make sense). At the facetious, tongue in cheek level, I envisioned Garth Brooks talking to God about preferring his Friends in Low Places or Randy Travis talking about spending eternity with a Better Class of Loser. Or any number of other country songs singing about an active choice to live a (stereotypical) lower-class lifestyle over a (stereotypical) upper class lifestyle. Elder Holland famously said (if memory serves as part of an interview with PBS/NPR): I don't know how intentional Elder Holland was in choosing "my" over "a" in this statement, but I think we all generally assume that he was speaking of Patricia, Matthew, Mary Alice, and David. Since my wife and children have left the church, I have sometimes tried to imagine "sad heaven" type scenarios. For now, let's just say I'm not sure if I won't be happier living alone in a cottage in the same neighborhood as my wife and children than I would be living in a mansion with someone who married me (and I married her) just for my (her) righteousness so we could live in a big house on a hill. (I acknowledge a certain caricaturieness (word??), but I think it helps make the point.) The way Pres. Oaks talks here, wherever I end up in the next life, it's where I will happiest. So, by definition (or tautology or circular reasoning, I'm not sure which), I am assured to end up in "heaven," (because "heaven" is where I will be happiest). Maybe "heaven" for me is not Celestial (though, I don't know that I can say that out loud in our high demand religion that wants everyone to aspire to the highest degree of the Celestial kingdom). Of course, that is the common criticism of universalism -- people who aren't aspiring to the highest aren't always inspired to keep all the rules and laws and commandments with exactness. I don't know, friends. The universalist inside of me likes what Pres. Oaks said. The part of me that grew up in a high demand religion that insisted I should aspire to nothing less than everything the Father has is less comfortable with what he said.

@Ironhold That's what the reports I'm seeing are saying, too. Kliavkoff's inability to secure a media rights deal that everyone liked was what eventually drove the U and other universities to jump ship. But what can he do, really? If the media outlets were unwilling to pay what the Pac-12 (when it was the Pac-12) thought it was worth, then there isn't much to be done. Capitalism is often a cutthroat way of doing business. Ultimately, what does it really mean? Maybe that the Pac-12 brand wasn't as valuable as was thought?