NOM

I'm not going to proofread this. Sorry for the turbulence.

To give some context, I've just finished reading the following three books and they have me obsessing a bit over the idea of community:

American Grace: How Religion Divides and Unites Us by Putnam and Campbell
The Righteous Mind: Why Good People Are Divided by Politics and Religion by Haidt
Inventing the Individual: The Origins Of Western Liberalism

All three are worth the read.

A common thread which weaves through each of these works is the idea that human beings crave community, both for its material benefits and for the general sense of well being bestowed by belonging to something bigger than oneself. But what we find in 21st century western culture is that many of the things which creates community like shared rituals, subservience to authority, and the strict maintenance of tradition, are often at odds with the cult of the individual seeking individuation. In fact the strongest group identities, or communities, are found among religious groups who adhere to strict theologies, require sacrifice for membership, and generally value the goals of the group over individual members. These are the ties which bind people together in ways that other groups cannot. They share a bond which makes them distinct, drawing people inward instead of outward, closer together and less dispersed. It is an atmosphere which discourages difference and change, because if either are allowed, the community would become increasingly diffuse as its bonds weaken and dilute. In other words, if you are successful at becoming an individual, then you tend to fail at being part of a tight knit community. If you are successful at becoming an individual, then strong communities aren't keen on having you around. Strong communities are closed, individuated individuals are open. They are at odds with one another.

Within the last two to three hundred years a split occurred within Protestant movements that can be loosely described as mainline protestant vs. evangelical and fundamentalist. Churches like the Episcopal church in the United States accepted higher biblical criticisms and deemphasized the need for literal belief in scripture. They embraced an increasingly rational view of Christianity. The evangelical and fundamentalist groups, of which I consider Mormonism even though it's theologically is in a different category, went the opposite way by continuing to emphasize the literal reality of scripture and a preference for faith over reason when the two contradict. What surveys have shown is that mainline groups who have embraced reason over faith have seen a gradual decline in participation, while others like the Saddleback megachurch in California have seen a steady increase. While Mormonism and other religions are seeing a slow down in general, the reports from its active members as well as others of like fundamentalist persuasion show as deep a connection to their groups as ever.

Rationalism, it seems, turns people into cats while more fundamentalist ideologies turn them into sheep. They may exult in the freedom and independence of being a cat, but there remains a consistent if unconscious desire to feel the warmth and safety of a herd. Communities formed by individuals, cats, simply do not have anywhere near the staying power of communities formed by fundamentalist groups, or sheep. Rationalist are far less likely to demand sacrifice, and individuals who themselves are rationalists, are less likely to make them. From our experience within Mormonism we know why that is. People are motivated by the powerful currents of the culture that are both positive, such as receiving praise and admiration through callings, and negative in the form of shame, guilt, shunning, and gossip. Most of us are much happier leaving the negative things behind and shedding social controls that run contrary to what we find appropriate, but the result is a weakening connection to the community of Mormonism, weakening to the point where it dissolves all together.

So where can a rationalist go once they've recognized and rejected the cultural tools used to form tight knit groups? They can join community organizations, but any one who's ever been in the warmth of a herd will immediately recognize them as a bit colder than what they want. They can try to enter into another tight knit community, but to do that you've got to be willing to sacrifice some autonomy. You have to be willing to confirm to the group's norms. If the norms are too loose, then the community lacks the needed cohesion. If the norms are too tight, then it's Mormonism all over again and we start looking for an exit.

What we want, perhaps, is a tight knit group of individuals who will sacrifice for one another to their own detriment, but not require a laundry list of requirements and expectations for membership. It may be that such a group is impossible, because the feeling of community, that feeling of oneness, seems only possible in the presence of the very controls we have rejected. That kind of sucks. The only alternative left is to join with a group but never fully enmesh yourself within it, but that defeats the purpose. Maybe the real question is over finding a group that one CAN enmesh themselves, and then lose oneself in that, but where do you find that kind of customized experience?

Interesting thoughts on community and how we must be cats and cats don't run in herds.

One solution, I suppose is to accept being a cat. Now, for extreme introverts that may work. I almost qualify, Hermit the frog.

I am in kind of a situation right now where I am feeling a need for some kind of social group, but our "neighborhood" at our new house is kind of spread out. Yes, there are houses in walking distance, but many of them are weekend or summer cabins, so they may or may not be occupied. So, I have been thinking about community lately, to the point I shocked DH by threatening to go back to church.

My three children have each solved this in different ways. My oldest is in Society for Creative Anacronisms. They dress up and pretend to be medieval knights. It requires a lot of money, for garb, armor, period camping stuff, swords, crowns, thrones, gold embroidered with pearls dresses. It requires a lot of time. Yes, the "in group" is very close---too close, as in my daughter has two exes and her ex's new lovers in the same group. My second child has her pagan group, and they are very close, and the group is very demanding of time. My youngest is LDS. Of the three of them, I think the word cult applies most to the SCA one. It may not be officially a religion, but it is worse. She keeps swearing off of it as too inbred, too expensive, too many drama queens, too many exes. And she swears she is quitting, but within a month, she is right back in the middle.

My husband and I have tried several clubs based around a hobby with varying levels of success. The clown club ended for us when certain people kept putting their individual needs ahead of group needs to the extent they were blood sucking leaches. Even the LDS church avoids having too many blood sucking leaches.

oliver_denom wrote:What we want, perhaps, is a tight knit group of individuals who will sacrifice for one another to their own detriment, but not require a laundry list of requirements and expectations for membership. It may be that such a group is impossible, because the feeling of community, that feeling of oneness, seems only possible in the presence of the very controls we have rejected. That kind of sucks. The only alternative left is to join with a group but never fully enmesh yourself within it, but that defeats the purpose. Maybe the real question is over finding a group that one CAN enmesh themselves, and then lose oneself in that, but where do you find that kind of customized experience?

In my opinion, this has been the final, real-world question in my faith journey. I have a hypothesis that while the theistic God of the monotheistic traditions is not exactly "real" in the traditional sense, humanity might be better off if most people fundamentally believe in "Him". I'm concerned that in the struggle for civilization and societal longevity, the culture that shows up without a strong religion might be bringing a knife to a gun fight.

This is part of the biggest project that John Dehlin is tackling with his Oasis group. It's also reflected in the "unchurched" movement and the "Sunday Assembly" groups. The Phoenix Open Mormons have partnered with a local Community of Christ church to try building a similar congregation called the Nautilus Community. And I don't know if any of these groups can achieve the longevity or resilience of any Christian church older than a generation. I expect some of them to fail, but I am not sure if any will necessarily succeed. I don't know if these groups can inspire the kind of commitment that traditional churches can produce. Ironically, I'm left with having faith in these good people trying something new while remaining somewhat (or mostly) untethered to a divine Jesus Christ.

My believing friends and family would condescendingly chuckle at this predicament all the while whistling past the demographic and doctrinal challenges of their own denominations. This is part of why I still attend my ward and don't go around preaching the CES Letter or MormonThink. Few members of my family or ward would appreciate the irony of my position since they would largely condemn my heresy. It's a delicious paradox.

Corsair wrote:My believing friends and family would condescendingly chuckle at this predicament all the while whistling past the demographic and doctrinal challenges of their own denominations. This is part of why I still attend my ward and don't go around preaching the CES Letter or MormonThink. Few members of my family or ward would appreciate the irony of my position since they would largely condemn my heresy. It's a delicious paradox.

It's the problem of wanting the benefits of a tribe without all the tribal stuff. At least with Alas's example where people bond over some sort of renaissance reenactment, the group's center is an activity everyone enjoys doing, but the real revelation is that people don't really stay just because of the activity. They stay to soak up the feelings created through bonding and relationships. It's interesting that even something as innocuous as a club can also produce dependent relationships. Maybe community is just like everything else in life, just enough but no more.

The difficulty of satisfying community within Mormonism is that it requires a lot of deception, even on the part of believing members, because the club rules and fees are so intrusive. If you take away actual belief in the whole process then the amount of deception increases to unsustainable levels, and the benefits of community begin to weaken whether you like it or not. One of the reasons we want to belong is for the purpose of fitting into something bigger than ourselves. If you can strip the self down into the required shape, size, and color, then you can feel that as you slide into your assigned position in the larger picture puzzle that is Mormonism. You can speak openly about your orthodoxy, share your orthodox feelings, and enjoy the warm comfort and support of your orthodox community. Feeling that embrace and support bolsters your self esteem, feeling of community, and feeling of purpose. It's happy and joyful. But when you slip out of orthodoxy, then you can't speak openly, you can't share your feelings, and you can't enjoy the warm comfort of support because you aren't supported outside the approved orthodoxy. So even if you stay, while disbelieving, the feeling of community is a lot more shallow than if you could fully enmesh yourself.

So I'm wondering if I could join and be fully open within mainline Protestantism. It seems to provide a number of advantages: 1) There are lots of them 2) I could find a community for my kids to belong to 3) They care very little how a person actually believes. Then again, maybe it's a project that's doomed to fail. It may be the case that I've pealed the onion of society, religion, and culture back to the point where the entire human structure is broken for me. Maybe there's no community I could ever really be a part of because I recognize it as a construct as opposed to a living, breathing, experience.

Corsair wrote:In my opinion, this has been the final, real-world question in my faith journey. I have a hypothesis that while the theistic God of the monotheistic traditions is not exactly "real" in the traditional sense, humanity might be better off if most people fundamentally believe in "Him".

I haven't read the books linked above, but after reading Putnam's Our Kids, I came to this conclusion. As much as there are things I really don't like about the church and am likely to find in any other church, nothing creates cohesive community as well as religion does and I don't know what to do about, particularly for my kids.

alas wrote:One solution, I suppose is to accept being a cat. Now, for extreme introverts that may work. I almost qualify, Hermit the frog.

The church has never been a good fit for me. I don't know if I am introverted and that's why, or if it wasn't a good fit and it fed my introversion or a combination of both. As introverted as I am, I do long for friendship and community, but I have always felt that the church only provides that conditionally - so long as I give up who I am and pretend to be someone else. DH has always said I've never really given the people at church a fair shake (at least since we've been married), but I think I was burned too many times when I was younger.

Maybe I ought to accept that I'm a cat. Maybe I haven't found the "true" church for me yet - if community is what I am looking for. But that still doesn't solve the problem of how to provide that community to my kids. I don't want to deprive them of something good (perhaps necessary?), simply because it never worked for me.

MerrieMiss wrote:As introverted as I am, I do long for friendship and community, but I have always felt that the church only provides that conditionally - so long as I give up who I am and pretend to be someone else.

What's concerning is that this requirement to "give up who I am" seems to be necessary for community to form. The more you give up, the more you get mixed into the crowd, the more you feel embraced by this larger entity. Let me know what you figure out.

I don't live in Utah, so there are plenty of other churches. Maybe there's a happy medium somewhere, a church that doesn't demand anything, but also doesn't demand nothing, a church that's not too hot but not too cold, a church that is just right. But it does seem that a community which demands nothing, isn't a community at all, more like a random assembly of strangers who come and go as they like.

Thanks for the writeup Oliver. Very interesting subject.

In the book Sapiens the author posits that primate communities larger than 150 individuals don't hold together because the members can't have a personal relationship with more people than that. He says that early humans had similar community size limitations, but that modern humans have overcome those limitations with the ability to believe in the abstract, e.g. value of money, power of government, religion, etc... With these common concepts we can build super communities that cooperate to achieve a common goal. Combined with our big heads this has created a super species to dominate the earth.

Rationalism strips these abstract concepts of their community building power in some ways, though money still buys and the government still rules and religion still pays no taxes. I guess understanding the abstractness of it makes it seem fake, and it seems stupid to sacrifice real time and effort for a fake abstract concept.

One way I still feel in a community is by staying attached to the small community who I do have a personal relationship with. My family and a few friends I grew up with who still get together once a month or so. This may all fall apart when I come out as a non-believer, so that's scary. The other way I feel community is to get on NOM and other sites and find people who put value in the same abstract concepts I do.

Linked wrote:In the book Sapiens the author posits that primate communities larger than 150 individuals don't hold together because the members can't have a personal relationship with more people than that. He says that early humans had similar community size limitations, but that modern humans have overcome those limitations with the ability to believe in the abstract, e.g. value of money, power of government, religion, etc... With these common concepts we can build super communities that cooperate to achieve a common goal. Combined with our big heads this has created a super species to dominate the earth.

This is something that Haidt also addresses in his chapters about group selection. He argues that that natural selection is multi-level, and that any traits which helped one group of humans survive over other groups would become adaptive within the population. Religion, it seems, was very good at creating cooperation between non-related people such that groups who had it were more successful than those who didn't. He gives an example of communes created within the 20th century where religiously based communes were far more likely to still exist than those with a secular base. Belief bonds people together and makes them willing to do things for the group that they wouldn't do otherwise.

And it's not that I consider the abstract concepts within religion as fake, even though I don't believe they are ontological realities, it's that because I don't believe I can't participate in them. This is going to sound like a really negative word, but I don't know how else to phrase it, the dream or the illusion loses its potency when you know that you're dreaming or experiencing an illusion. The feelings that religion creates, the bonds that it forges between people, are completely real outcomes. The means by which they arrive are the problem, not the end. It's difficult to get on board with the means when you know that they exist for reasons other than what they are meant to represent. It's equivalent to sitting in an endowment while observing, "Yes, the shared secret of this hidden ceremony combined with the muscle synchronicity formed from the action of dressing, repeating prayers, and hand motions will certainly bind us as participants into a close knit community." I mean, if that's going through your head, then are you really experiencing the same mystical event as everyone else? Will it still have the same effect.

I like the idea of keeping close friends and family in a small inner circle, but like MerrieMiss, I worry about the kids. Won't someone think about the children?!

I really identify with the questions posed by this post, and it has been in the forefront of my mind for a couple years now. I'm convinced that being a part of a supportive tribe is key to most human's happiness. Humans are weak and puny. We need each other. Throughout time, getting marginalized or kicked out of the tribe usually meant curtains for us and our DNA. So we have it irremovably in our DNA to be unhappy and anxious without a support group. The church is a pretty tight knit community and fills that need quite well.

I've tried participating in several groups, and even creating a Mormon-Stories Support community. But the ties that bind those groups together seem to be pretty weak. Especially the Mormon support group. I have hypothesized that ex-Mormons are ex-Mormons largely because they are cats, and creating a new community is not something they are interested in. It has been shown over and over again that people believe what they WANT to believe, and often stop believing because they don't want to believe anymore.... it no longer works for them. This is why I think that people often DO leave because they are lazy, want to live a different life style, or are sick of the guilt. Not always, but I think it probably contributes significantly. So creating a new group where people show up on a regular basis, is not something people seem to be interested in. They care more about their autonomy than the community, ergo weak community.

It has also been shown that liberals (democrats) are more cat-like while conservatives (republicans) tend to be more interested in bending their will to the leader and doing what they're told.

Maybe alas is right, I just need to accept being a cat. Or maybe I need to be willing to give up some of my autonomy to make a long-term commitment to, and sacrifice for a tribe of my choosing while watching everyone else pop-in and pop-out as their fancy strikes them. Or maybe I should consider being a NOM the rest of my life, or part of another church that I believe is equally just guessing.

oliver_denom wrote:This is something that Haidt also addresses in his chapters about group selection. He argues that that natural selection is multi-level, and that any traits which helped one group of humans survive over other groups would become adaptive within the population. Religion, it seems, was very good at creating cooperation between non-related people such that groups who had it were more successful than those who didn't. He gives an example of communes created within the 20th century where religiously based communes were far more likely to still exist than those with a secular base. Belief bonds people together and makes them willing to do things for the group that they wouldn't do otherwise.

That is an interesting way to look at it. I wonder if that is basically what Constantine was thinking when he declared Christianity the state religion of Romans. He had a fracturing state and tried to bind it with the glue that religion could provide.

oliver_denom wrote:And it's not that I consider the abstract concepts within religion as fake, even though I don't believe they are ontological realities, it's that because I don't believe I can't participate in them. This is going to sound like a really negative word, but I don't know how else to phrase it, the dream or the illusion loses its potency when you know that you're dreaming or experiencing an illusion. The feelings that religion creates, the bonds that it forges between people, are completely real outcomes. The means by which they arrive are the problem, not the end. It's difficult to get on board with the means when you know that they exist for reasons other than what they are meant to represent. It's equivalent to sitting in an endowment while observing, "Yes, the shared secret of this hidden ceremony combined with the muscle synchronicity formed from the action of dressing, repeating prayers, and hand motions will certainly bind us as participants into a close knit community." I mean, if that's going through your head, then are you really experiencing the same mystical event as everyone else? Will it still have the same effect.

Totally. The joy of having a group and the happiness at seeing friends is real, and the joy of having a savior is real. The pressure to conform and the guilt and the actions caused by them are also real. But knowing that it is not reality destroys the ability to believe, which means you don't really fit in the group, and so you lose at least some of that joy and guilt. The moment a shelf breaks is that moment where realization of reality crushes their ability to believe in the church anymore. For some that kills all belief in a higher being. For some it just kills belief in The Church.

oliver_denom wrote:I like the idea of keeping close friends and family in a small inner circle, but like MerrieMiss, I worry about the kids. Won't someone think about the children?!

Yeah, I worry about the kids too. The close friends and family do provide a fairly large group of kids to be friends with in my case, but they do not provide a place to teach a moral base.

Something I forgot to put in my original post was that I have found that my close relationships seem to drag each other through various activities, like playing basketball together or video games or fantasy sports even if the individuals may not be particularly interested. So it is the tie to the individual that keeps us doing things together. But for NOM or other things it is the activity or the shared interest that keeps us doing things together, though that often turns into a more personal connection. Which is more important, having the individual connection or having a community of shared interests or beliefs? Or both?

oliver_denom wrote:And it's not that I consider the abstract concepts within religion as fake, even though I don't believe they are ontological realities, it's that because I don't believe I can't participate in them. This is going to sound like a really negative word, but I don't know how else to phrase it, the dream or the illusion loses its potency when you know that you're dreaming or experiencing an illusion. The feelings that religion creates, the bonds that it forges between people, are completely real outcomes. The means by which they arrive are the problem, not the end. It's difficult to get on board with the means when you know that they exist for reasons other than what they are meant to represent. It's equivalent to sitting in an endowment while observing, "Yes, the shared secret of this hidden ceremony combined with the muscle synchronicity formed from the action of dressing, repeating prayers, and hand motions will certainly bind us as participants into a close knit community." I mean, if that's going through your head, then are you really experiencing the same mystical event as everyone else? Will it still have the same effect.

So this is where I think Fowler’s stage 5 comes in (if you subscribe to his stages, but even if not, I think it’s a useful framework to view religious practice/belief).

When I read Joseph Campbell or listen to his interviews, I see a man who can sit back and see the hows and whys of ritual and belief. Ritual and belief are appreciated, understood, deconstructed (in a very stage four kind of way), and yet, he is extremely spiritual and operating on what I would describe as level 5 – even though he has no literal belief in any of the systems.

Something I found very interesting in listening to his interviews with Moyers was that in Campbell's opinion, modern life was suffering for want of a new myth. We just don't have one that is compelling for where and who we are today. We keep trying to make the old myths fit our present paradigm and it's failing. Campbell's been dead for almost thirty years, and I don't think we've tackled this problem.

Somehow, and I have no idea how one gets there, I think it is possible to see the magician behind the curtain and positively participate. I just don’t know how. And it’s possible I’m just not the right kind of person for it.

Linked wrote:

oliver_denom wrote:I like the idea of keeping close friends and family in a small inner circle, but like MerrieMiss, I worry about the kids. Won't someone think about the children?!

Yeah, I worry about the kids too. The close friends and family do provide a fairly large group of kids to be friends with in my case, but they do not provide a place to teach a moral base.

Something I forgot to put in my original post was that I have found that my close relationships seem to drag each other through various activities, like playing basketball together or video games or fantasy sports even if the individuals may not be particularly interested. So it is the tie to the individual that keeps us doing things together. But for NOM or other things it is the activity or the shared interest that keeps us doing things together, though that often turns into a more personal connection. Which is more important, having the individual connection or having a community of shared interests or beliefs? Or both?

As I said in my earlier I comment, I have not read any of the books linked in the original post, although I did read another by Robert Putnam. My takeaway from that book is that community serves more than a vehicle for teaching a shared morality/mythology (which is important) – but it also builds a community where people care and watch out for each other (probably because of shared beliefs - we're far more likely to step out and help others that we feel a shared affinity for). There are extra adults for children to learn from, to have opportunities working with. There are network connections that can foster opportunities for learning and job seeking. People who belong to communities that do this are stronger, more economically secure, and have a larger safety net (not only financial, but emotionally/psychologically as well). Most people raised in the church who have decided that the church community doesn’t work for them, myself included, had some kind of community like this to foster their growth and upbringing. I think depriving children of such a community has its own set of problems that are rarely addressed. I worry in taking my children out of the church I may be saving them from some negative aspects, but that I am depriving them of some very positive benefits as well.

MerrieMiss wrote: Somehow, and I have no idea how one gets there, I think it is possible to see the magician behind the curtain and positively participate. I just don’t know how. And it’s possible I’m just not the right kind of person for it.

That's an interesting analogy. The scarecrow, lion, and tin man all knew the wizard to be a fraud, but he still managed to give them what they needed.

I think my reluctance to raise my kids in the church is directly related to the special hell I went through as a teenager. In retrospect, it feels like I barely made it out at all. At some point I gave myself an ultimatum, either kill myself and end my suffering (it felt extreme at the time and made sense to me then), or go on a mission and find some sort of redemption. I chose the latter, but what a horrible place to be. Every time I think about my child sitting in primary, I'm reminded of that time in my life I wished for death.

So that's pretty fucked up, but it is what it is. Maybe Methodism is a middle way.