3/22/2007

Guest Post: RJohn on "Isostacy"

Folks, please give a warm welcome to RJohn, for his inaugural guest post here at pilgrimgirl...

Notes Toward a General Theory of Mormon Isostacy

From the beginning, a confession: I am not qualified to speak on the question of how to avoid anxiety. I have often felt it. I do not enjoy it (even in Heidegger's sense that anxiety opens your mind to a truer sense of "being"--I still don't like it). And I still sometimes feel it, emptying out my chest in panic-filled breathing. This may come as a surprise to some people who know me, and perhaps old news to others. For those who have never had anxiety, you have to understand, there is not always a "cause." Sometimes it just comes to you, disconnected from whatever is happening, and its sudden appearance is strange and terrifying (and in occasional rare moments, I have even felt this terror as something "beautiful," as though I were approaching a deep and breathtaking chasm). I say this because I am convinced that my anxieties are not "caused" by my ambiguous relationship with god/church, or "caused" by the stressful exigencies of my chosen career, or even "caused" by the existentialist and post-structuralist theories I have learned to negotiate. They just are.

And in this sense, I am probably not the person to turn to for advice on finding an emotional balance in life. Most of what I can offer here on "religious isostacy" is a path that is difficult and fraught with dangers. But I do it because I have found that there are many people like me for whom the idea of leaving a religious community seems painful and unnecessary, even though they go on being exposed to unconscionable discourse (in the sense that their "conscience" is damaged in failing to either speak against certain policies or resoundingly renounce one's attachment to certain ideas).

But let me try to get at what I mean by "religious isostacy." The term "isostacy" is one I have borrowed from geology (and I'm not a geologist--yet another reason not to trust you, John! ). It's definition has to do with seismic equilibrium in the earth's crust: "a condition in which the forces tending to elevate balance those tending to depress; a state in which pressures from every side are equal." You'll find "isos" in other words conveying "balance" or "equilibrium," such as in an isosceles triangle. If you write "isostacy" and try to spell check it, you get the suggestion "apostasy," but of course they are not the same words at all, and this is really why I like it. Everyone knows what religious apostasy means. It means leaving the community, physically, but retaining a kind of fetishistic fascination for it (hating it almost as passionately as one might have loved it earlier in life). It means cutting off one's self in terms of community, devotion ( i.e. not paying tithing or wearing the garment), and feelings, but not in mission. The apostate still wants to be in the church, but demands (or writes manifestos demanding) that the organization change in fundamental ways before s/he will return.

This is, of course, the path that John and Jana are on now. And it is not one that I condemn (even though I do regret not seeing them around more often). In fact, I can even see the path of apostasy as a courageous act. My point, however, in introducing this idea of religious isostacy is that apostasy need not be the only response to the kinds of feelings and experiences people have in the church when confronted with doctrinal or cultural dissonance. As with many things, I get very suspicious when people tell me that there are only two possible options for things (apostasy or orthodoxy, war or appeasement, etc.)

So let me try to be more specific about what I mean by religious "isostacy" as opposed to "apostasy." In Billy Wilder's 1960 movie "The Apartment" Jack Lemmon is a mid-level corporate manager with a number of quirky looks and sayings. One of his little catch-phrases is "That's the way it crumbles . . . cookie-wise." It's corny, but sort of endearing too. After watching the film, I found myself riffing on the phrase in little ways ("that's the way it bounces...ball-wise"--keeping these to myself, of course. I'd never be so corny in real life!). One day, as I was thinking about my complex relationship with Mormonism, I said something to myself like "Well, that's just the way I'm thinking, other-wise"). And it struck me that "thinking otherwise" encapsulated nearly everything going on in my weird head at the moment: my doubts about doctrine, my love for Mormon friends and family, my search for the Truth of Mormon history--all of it in this one phrase. Thinking otherwise and thinking "other"-wise. The former is to begin thinking outside of orthodoxy, to be conscious that there are broader possibilities in the world, to have doubts (for me) about things like golden plates, seer stones, priesthood, and polygamy (that would be "other wives" rather than "otherwise" ha ha). But the latter is to be acutely aware that there are there important "others" in your life, "others" that you did not choose-- wise to the "others" in the sense that you can sense how much you need them, how much those relationships make you who you are (and maybe even offer wisdom to some of them when they too begin sensing otherwise). Sometimes these "others" understand and even share your thinking otherwise, and sometimes they do not.

For Mormon "isostates," then, I recommend the following:

1) Acknowledge, freely, at appropriate moments, that you have doubts, and that you believe very little about the finer points of Mormon dogma (and perhaps even that you find certain dogmas unhealthy or dangerous).

2) Do not feel compelled to shout your version of Truth about the universe from the rooftops (or, if you like, your conviction that there is a lack of Truth about the universe).

3) Reaffirm your commitment to the Mormon community by doing the sorts of things that connect you to that community (not drinking, paying tithing, going to church, etc).

4) Remember that many Mormons and non-Mormons will not understand your isostacy. It may even seem crazy to them, so be willing to live with that.

5) Remember that if you did leave (i.e. move from isostacy to apostasy), it would be tumultuous and difficult, but life would go on. It is possible that you may eventually find something outside of Mormonism that provides you with a greater "seismic equilibrium" (I say this because knowing that you CAN leave and be okay is crucial to knowing that you are choosing to stay, and not being forced to stay).

6) Get involved in Sunstone, Dialogue, and other communities where you will find other souls in a similar isostatic state (and I could point here to Levi Peterson's sense of being a "Christian by yearning," or Wayne Booth's notion of "hypocrisy upwards"--but there are many).

Whether or not this will bring anyone relief or happiness, I do not know. But I am convinced that thinking otherwise/other-wise is a possible road, one that I've been on for some time now, and it has been good to me.

10 comments:

John White said...

Very nice read. Not sure how to react. Also not sure that I understand the difference between isostacy and appeasement.

R. John said...

Actually, with my reference to the reductive options of "war or appeasement," I was thinking specifically of the very common discourse prior to the American invasion of Iraq that one could either go to war with Sadaam, or blithely endorse his brand of oppressive fascism. Now, I don't think Mormonism counts as oppressive fascism. Sure, there are aspects of it that are oppressive, but in my mind a Mormon "isostate" is under no obligation to participate in anything s/he feels is wrong or unethical. The difference, then, between isostacy and appeasement is that with the former you actually get some good things out of the relationship (and you maintain a sense of empowerment and individualism); whereas, with the latter you only get more oppression. Now, if you are so jaded on Mormonism that you can't imagine that interacting with the community or ideology could be anything but unhealthy, then of course isostacy will sound crazy. But I actually think there are some very good things about Mormon thought and community.

amelia said...

interesting read, john. it's nice to see this articulated in writing, since my only previous experience with this theory of yours was during institute and i don't always have a good memory for details.

i especially like the construction of thinking "other-wise." and i think that is an important thing to do whether one identifies as "isostate" or "apostate." in your post, your call to think "other-wise" as well as "otherwise" seems to suggest that the former (the thinking "other-wise") is what leads to staying within the mormon community, and i can understand that. but i think thinking "other-wise" is vital to maintaining an open and fair relationship with those in our lives who think otherwise than we do. whether we are apostate, isostate, or believing. when we fail to think "other-wise," we almost invariably end up perpetuating the very stereotypes that we feel have alienated us from our communities in the first place.

amelia said...

this:

'and i think that is an important thing to do whether one identifies as "isostate" or "apostate."'

should have included 'or "believer"' at the end. sorry for that.

SoCalSingleMama said...

I loved reading this earlier today, and loved reading it again tonight. I wish five years ago I had been privy to this type of open discourse and "other-wise" thinking.

I found it interesting the way you describe an apostate as "...retaining a kind of fetishistic fascination for it..." I don't hate the LDS church at all (from which I would be considered to be apostate, though I don't categorize myself as an apostate and don't like the term much), in fact I tend to have a very compassoinate, soft place in my heart for it. And I don't really feel a need to reform it personally, though I have been supportive in friends'/others' initiatives to reform it.

But I digress.

I do admit that I am "...retaining a kind of fetishistic fascination for it..." One reason is I do still have much in common with the missions of the church (as you mentioned) such as salvation, inviting all to Christ, eternal progression, protecting free agency and liberty, and the seeking of eternal life (assuming that all of the things listed do indeed exist).

Another reason for my continued fascination is that my family and friends are all involved in the community, and it seems like the further I get away from that community, the more distant I become from my family and friends. I feel that those two groups of people are pretty much the most important part of my life, and distancing myself from them is something I preferably avoid.

Thirdly, I always maintain an open door (though I'll admit it is a small door) that I may have been in error when I left. As long as this door is open, I will maintain some level of fascination.

Also, most of my worldviews and life experiences are heavily influenced by my upbringing in the LDS faith.

Last but not least, some of the very beautiful parts of Mormonism that I love and believe and value highly - well, I have not been able to find them elsewhere. So those parts keep me fascinated with Mormonism.

I feel more "seismic equilibrium" being seperated from the community but maintaining a healthy level of fascination for the reasons above. Many Mormons and non-Mormons think I am crazy and do not understand my istostacy, either.

I hope Mormon "isostates" will follow your advice in #6 to get involved with Sunstone, Dialogue, etc. The Mormon isostates I meet there act as kind, caring, interesting, intellectual, spiritual bridges that are the #1 negators of the hate you describe in your post. Anytime I feel a twinge of bitterness or negative feelings, I usually think of the Mormon isostates I know and those feelings are replaced with respect, admiration, fascination, and humility.

Ann said...

Excellent, excellent post, RJohn. As long as I've been doing this isostacy thing (almost five years now) I've never had that term for it. It's great to read some new ideas about the approach.

Have you checked out the blog The Cultural Hall? You should come hang out with us.

Anonymous said...

I'd be interested to hear you talk more about this, R John. From your description, I'm an isostate myself. But only because apostasy, like you said, would be very painful.

So let me ask you some questions about your suggestions.

1) Acknowledge, freely, at appropriate moments, that you have doubts, and that you believe very little about the finer points of Mormon dogma (and perhaps even that you find certain dogmas unhealthy or dangerous).

Tell me about these appropriate moments (at least, as you have encountered them), and how you can couch your doubts so as not to become a "project." Do these moments happen in church, hometeaching, elsewhere?

Also, I'm interested to know how your advice might translate metropolitan California to smalltown Wyoming.

2) Do not feel compelled to shout your version of Truth about the universe from the rooftops (or, if you like, your conviction that there is a lack of Truth about the universe).

I don't feel this way at all. Mostly because I don't think I'm right. However, I live among people who think they're right. So I'd like to know, in a culture that declares its devotion to truth every chance it gets, wouldn't it be giving up on my Mormon roots not to declare the truth as I see it?

3) Reaffirm your commitment to the Mormon community by doing the sorts of things that connect you to that community (not drinking, paying tithing, going to church, etc).

Do you have more ways for us reaffirm our committment? Those things may be fine, but I don't see them as doing our part to provide a counter balance.

4) Remember that many Mormons and non-Mormons will not understand your isostacy. It may even seem crazy to them, so be willing to live with that.

Amen.

6) Get involved in Sunstone, Dialogue, and other communities where you will find other souls in a similar isostatic state (and I could point here to Levi Peterson's sense of being a "Christian by yearning," or Wayne Booth's notion of "hypocrisy upwards"--but there are many).

But what's interesting about those guys is that from an orthodox point of view, they WERE apostates. Wayne wasn't a church goer, he drank the occasional glass of wine, he didn't pay tithing to the Church. Levi likes his coffee, he's famous for writing very earthy fiction, he didn't marry in the temple and has no intention to do so. All these things seem to go against your advice #3.

Or does it? (Dum da dum dum!)

R. John said...

Stephen writes,

>Tell me about these appropriate moments (at least, as you have encountered them), and how you can couch your doubts so as not to become a "project." Do these moments happen in church, hometeaching, elsewhere?

It’s funny because just last Sunday, our new home teacher spent twenty minutes bearing his testimony of American militarism (which was caught up with his sense of the constitution being inspired by God, the church flourishing because of America, the prophecies about the state of Israel, etc). So, because he was in MY home giving me this message, I felt it entirely appropriate to rail on him a bit. I told him (among other things) that the Mormon infatuation with American militarism was a form of apostasy, that God was displeased with the church’s Americanism in general, and that President Hinckley was absolutely wrong and off-base in his initial endorsement of the war in Iraq. I told him that America’s (and the general Mormon) unconditional support of the worst terrorist state in the Middle East (Israel) was immoral, and that it was my duty AS A MORMON to oppose these things. I went on for a good twenty minutes, and he just sort of looked stunned. Then he tried to debate with me for a while, always affirming that GOD was on his side. In the end, I said something like “I never thought I’d say this, but next time, would you mind bringing the Ensign message?”

So, yeah, I felt like this was an entirely appropriate moment. Now, if he had been giving the same lesson in Sunday School, I would have probably raised my hand and said something similar, but much shorter and with a less confrontational tone. You just have to know how to play your cards at the right moment.

>Also, I'm interested to know how your advice might translate metropolitan California to smalltown Wyoming.

You should know that Orange County, California, is fairly similar to Utah politically. It’s generally a wealthy, highly republican area, a sort of red blob in the middle of a blue state. But what IS “metropolitan” about my area is the fact that I live near the University, which makes my isostacy a lot easier to negotiate (there are a lot of students here who are either isostates like me, or very sympathetic to it). So, if I were an isostate in small-town Wyoming, I don’t know. I’d probably go crazy. But I suppose there are universities in Wyoming too, right? (Remember that great moment in Manufacturing Consent, the documentary, when Noam Chomsky goes to smalltown Wyoming?).

2) Do not feel compelled to shout your version of Truth about the universe from the rooftops (or, if you like, your conviction that there is a lack of Truth about the universe).

>I don't feel this way at all. Mostly because I don't think I'm right. However, I live among people who think they're right. So I'd like to know, in a culture that declares its devotion to truth every chance it gets, wouldn't it be giving up on my Mormon roots not to declare the truth as I see it?
Yes, and you should declare it! But when I say not do it from the “rooftops,” I generally mean the chapel podium or other places where declaring your Truth would simply be a way of detaching yourself from the community. Again, Sunstone and Dialogue are excellent forums for this.

3) Reaffirm your commitment to the Mormon community by doing the sorts of things that connect you to that community (not drinking, paying tithing, going to church, etc).

>Do you have more ways for us reaffirm our commitment? Those things may be fine, but I don't see them as doing our part to provide a counter balance.

Well, what I mean here is that it’s our “presence” that is most important. If you go away, then the benefits you get from the community disappear, just as the counter balance you might provide the community will disappear.

6) Get involved in Sunstone, Dialogue, and other communities where you will find other souls in a similar isostatic state (and I could point here to Levi Peterson's sense of being a "Christian by yearning," or Wayne Booth's notion of "hypocrisy upwards"--but there are many).

>But what's interesting about those guys is that from an orthodox point of view, they WERE apostates. Wayne wasn't a church goer, he drank the occasional glass of wine, he didn't pay tithing to the Church. Levi likes his coffee, he's famous for writing very earthy fiction, he didn't marry in the temple and has no intention to do so. All these things seem to go against your advice #3.

It’s true that Wayne was an apostate, but it is interesting that later in life he began talking and writing about the church as though he really wanted to be part of the community (and he even said at one point that, if not for his wife, he might have returned to activity in the church—not BELIEF, mind you, but activity). Reading his biography, I can’t help but feel that if Sunstone or Dialogue had been around in the 1950s, he might have actually worked out a place for himself in the church, or at least in the margins. But as for Levi, I wouldn’t consider him an apostate. A heretic, sure, but not apostate. He strikes me as a pretty good example of an isostate (though, again, reading his biography, I couldn’t help noticing that he too has suffered from severe anxiety over the years). As you said, he is certainly an “earthier” isostate, but I suppose there are different levels of isostacy. My #3 suggestion seems to work for me, but it is possible that one might maintain an important “presence” without necessarily following all of the lifestyle rules.

Anonymous said...

All good answers, R. John.

And from your answers it looks to me like John and Jana could also qualify as isotates. Though they don't participate much in official church stuff anymore and aren't believers, they are still an important presence in the Sunstone/Dialogue circles.

And I guess that's the difficult part for me. I'm pretty invovled in the Sunstone/Dialogue crowd too. But that makes zero (and I really do mean zero) impact on any of my interactions with church on a weekly basis. No one here reads the same things I read. They don't care what I write. If I say anything in a class, unless I happen to be the teacher, I'm pretty much ignored. So it's like I live in two different worlds, my Sunstone world and my weekly church world. My Sunstone world fulfills me. My church world fulfills my social obligations. I wish there weren't such a rift.

I imagine it might be easier if I lived in a larger area with a university nearby (the closest institution of higher education nearby is Western Wyoming Community College 64 miles to the east and the Univeristy of Utah 100 miles to the west). But, hey, this place is great for raising children, and the people here are really nice, which I appreicate.

Anonymous said...

Oh, and by the way. Wayne Booth became my hero after I read his autobiography. That guy kicks such major rhetorical booty. I'd love to see an application of his theories in a church setting.