I am Paul Malan. I take pictures. I write. I read. I ride my bike. I married Wendy a decade ago and count myself lucky that she seems to like putting up with me. We have 4.5 kids.Mormon cinema pioneer Richard Dutcher’s recent letter published by The Daily Herald has sparked quite a few conversations this weekend. I wouldn’t say it has the Mormon corner of the internet all abuzz, but it certainly hummed a little, anyway. The letter is apparently a farewell to the Mormon genre of filmmaking, and to the Mormon faith as a whole, in a sort of arrogant, self-venerating tone that reminds me a bit of the way I tend to write when I’m feeling especially worked up.
No doubt the tone of his letter might be interpreted as pompous and the message unfortunate, but I was more interested in some of the comments that followed his letter on the Herald’s website. Some were suitably polite, congratulating Dutcher for his contributions to the genre and wishing him well as he embarks in a new direction, while others were needlessly judgmental and speculative. One of the latter types in particular raised my eyebrow:
“This is of course only speculation but I would guess that Richard probably committed some kind of sin and is now attempting to rationalize his behavior by asserting he is now on a ‘spiritual path which may ultimately prove incompatible with Mormon orthodoxy.’”
Several people commenting after that remark have done their best to correct (and/or mock) the person who wrote it, but even now I have a hard time not turning this post into an arrogant tirade of my own against the sort of judgmental, short-sighted, ridiculously simplistic view so many Mormons somehow adopt when it comes to people losing the faith. They speak of the Mormon Church as if it were the Celestial Kingdom embodied—something so wholesome that people only reject it when their sins leave them uncomfortable in the presence of the perfected ones.
Maturation involves outgrowing old opinions and replacing them with new, better ideas, and I suspect this guy’s comment made me bristle so easily because it wasn’t long enough ago that I might have been the guy writing it. I suppose it’s comforting to know I understand better now than I did a few years ago, but still I shake my head and wonder, how do crazy ideas like this find root in mainstream Mormonism?
The day after Dutcher’s letter was published my wife received another issue of BYU Magazine—along with frequent requests for donations, the magazine is one of her prizes for having graduated BYU—and with it came one source of these misguided ideas.
As I browsed the magazine the title of one article looked promising: “Finding Answers” by Joseph Fielding McConkie. Since I’m on a quest for answers myself, I turned to the article and began reading. On the whole I found the article to be worthwhile, stressing the importance of learning to solve our own problems and exploring issues completely before seeking confirmation. I was particularly interested in a section McConkie called “Asking the Right Question.” Anyone who has ever asked a question understands that asking the right question often makes all the difference, and anyone who has ever had a toddler will agree that sometimes stumbling upon the “right” question takes a great deal of patience and luck. Having experienced a few toddlers, and being willing to consider that I may be asking the wrong questions, I read the section carefully.
The author retold a story of a woman whose husband had serious doubts about the Church. She visited McConkie hoping to gain insight, and after explaining that he didn’t know the answers to the questions, each of which “carried with it the spirit of doubt,” he proposed asking the “right” questions:
The real questions here were these: If I had been able to answer each of the questions with which this man was challenging his wife, would it have accomplished anything more than require him to come up with more questions? And why was he so anxious to discredit God and find foolishness in scripture? Perhaps he ought to be asked, “What commandment is it that you don't want to keep?” or “What blessings would you like to quit receiving?”
Ah, yes, there it is. This why I once believed, and countless more still believe, that only lazy sinners leave the Church. What commandment don’t you want to keep? Come on, out with it! Is it the booze? Tithing? Perhaps you can’t handle the guilt that comes from taking too many pennies from Chevron’s take-a-penny bowl? It may be uncommon to have it stated explicitly, but this absurd notion, that serious sin always precedes apostasy, pervades at least Mormon culture and, depending on your interpretation of the phrase “one true church,” perhaps Mormon doctrine as well.
Apart from the misdirection in the section heading (asking the “right” question in this case appears to mean asking only questions that can be proven circularly and do nothing to challenge assumptions) I was disappointed by the implication that questions raised “in the spirit of doubt” are not worth addressing. It seems to me that any question worth asking will be accompanied by the spirit of doubt; doubt is a leading indicator of both belief and disbelief. A question asked without the spirit of doubt is no question at all, merely an excuse to hear oneself speaking.
I typically would have reacted angrily to the article, and you’re still sure to detect a hint of my frustration with it. But as I mentioned before, the article was, ignoring these few unfortunate paragraphs, rather insightful. I heartily agree with the notion of learning to answer our own questions and exhausting our resources before turning to God for confirmation. So instead of anger, I think I’m actually feeling disappointment, or maybe even sadness. I know what a struggle it is to run into a wall that seems to separate reason and religion, holding each just beyond reach. I suspect that McConkie, and people who agree with his reasoning, have never faced the challenge themselves, nor have they ever successfully understood anyone who has.
If they have faced the challenge or come to know another’s struggles, they certainly seem to have forgotten by now what it was really like, as their logic underscores a serious failing in communication. Presumably, McConkie and people like him do actually care for the welfare of we doubters, yet they seem to be dismissing the fundamental conflicts as excuses for sin or doubts unworthy of exploration. They address our doubts with answers that satisfy only believers, widening the gap between our two groups and alienating those of us least able to withstand the alienation.
If you’re a faithful Mormon and you actually care for a person whose faith is wavering, entertain this familiar advice: Ask the Right Questions. No, the right question is not, “Which commandment is it you don’t want to keep?” We’re not looking for an excuse to sin. The right question is not, “Why are you so anxious to discredit God?” The last thing we want is to discredit God, we’re simply trying to renew faith and trust in a God we no longer know, because our perception of Him is tied to a religion that is simply not what it was portrayed to be.
If your primary objective is to defend your own faith and convince yourself that our doubts are unfounded, you may find McConkie’s “right” questions valuable tools. In fact if they maintain your peace and keep your boat afloat I think you ought to use them. But don’t use them under the guise of helping a doubter. If you really want to help a struggling Mormon you have to understand what the issues really are, and once you understand what the issues are you’ll know it is a cop-out to blame our doubts on some imagined transgression. Ours is not a simple religion.
