Who Started the Refiner's Fire?

Fig. 1: A refiner's fire. Do you feel the burn?

After an insightful discussion with two friends over burgers, shakes and fries (what other food sparks deep, theological discussions better than a delicious hamburger?), I felt like the focus of my next post (read: this one, that you are currently reading) should be my view of suffering, specifically what we refer to in Mormondom as ‘trials’. If that conversation weren’t enough, I went with those same two friends to the National Museum of American Jewish History in Philadelphia, which could be called a shrine to dealing with trials and suffering because, well, because Jews.

I’m a firm believer in the good that can come from difficult life experiences and generally think that without some sort of challenges in life we wouldn’t learn what we need. However, I do not believe that the difficulties we face and the challenges that we need to overcome are given to us from God.

I believe that God can sanctify anything that happens to us, no matter how evil, wretched or depraved the origins. After all, “all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good” (D&C 122:7). Yet, I do not believe that those events and pains are divinely ordained or commissioned.

Rather than put the pressure on God for choosing and selecting trials and obstacles for me to overcome that will push me in exactly the right way, so that I develop into the best person I could be, I prefer to move that responsibility to myself and all other individuals. It is up to me to turn to God when I am faced with a dark and difficult time, so that He can teach me and find the good buried within, the silver lining if you will.

I am drawn to this understanding because otherwise, God begins to resemble a Grand Chessmaster moving pieces on a board, setting up my life and the lives of all those around me, to create the perfect test (sort of like Willy Wonka and the everlasting gobstopper to see who deserved the chocolate factory). I can’t accept that. I believe that God created the world and set in motion certain events that brought pain and suffering into it, establishing the general conditions that all of humanity would endure, but knowing that individuals would face varied circumstances outside of His control. That is one reason the Atonement is so important- it levels the inequities of life.

My sense of justice and fairness is also bothered by the possibility that being born as a poor, starving child in Africa, forced into working for blood diamonds and becoming a child soldier is somehow a custom-tailored set of difficulties that give that child of God something that they needed to receive. I can’t believe that.

Plus, I love individuality and the idea that God can take chaos, confusion, disorder, evil or any other negatively connoted idea and refine it into something worthwhile. That is powerful to me. And I need to go to God to get that. I need to work with Him to make sense of the world and find the good that can come from mess that surrounds me known as reality. It’s a collective effort, me working hand in hand with the Creator to transcend the darkness of mortality and reach heavenly heights.

I understand that for some, the idea of God selecting their trials brings a sense of comfort and purpose to life, when it would be easy to feel alone and as though life had lost all meaning. Yet, for me that purpose and comfort is strengthened when God admits that the chaos and disorder isn’t what He wants and that He wants to work with me to find a way to make it work for my good. Together we can overcome.

The distinction I made may not matter to some, but it creates a very different framework that empowers me to find the good in all things and to begin to understand the suffering of those that have done nothing to bring it upon themselves.

Fig. 2: The Piano Man himself, who also didn't start the fire.

Neither God nor I started my refiner’s fire, but it’s been burning since the world’s been turning. As I work my way through, turning to God for somebody to lean on, I can transcend the fire and flames and carry on, enduring to the end.

Civil Disagreement

I think disagreement is essential to the quest for truth, an idea I tried to capture in this poem that I wrote (I think I’ve shared it in other posts, but here it is anyway):

A QUEST FOR TRUTH

 (Originally written to be performed as a beatnik poem, complete with bongo accompaniment)

The moonlight breaking through the clouds

The sun peaking through the gray mist

One man running through many crowds

Ambiguous as a clenched fist

A sign waiting up in the sky

A bright spot amidst the darkness

One man ready to jump and fly

Conflict asserts her agelessness

The joy of first discovery

The pain of not fully knowing

One man deep in recovery

The Search is forever flowing

A quest for truth

A search for life

Conflict brings us

Beauty in strife

I may have come to this understanding because I often disagree with those around me. Part of this is my tendency to play devil’s advocate, partially my desire to be an individual, largely due to my skepticism and incredibly opinionated nature. (And of course the obvious reasons- being a liberal, feminist, budding intellectual Mormon at BYU, one of the largest bastions of conservative thought).

Given that I am in the minority in my views on a variety of subjects, it occasionally happens that people make comments or assertions that are derogatory or vilify those that share some of my ideologies. Generally this is done as a way of building the community, a sort of other-ing, where you begin to define yourself by what you are not and find refuge against a common enemy—the rallying around the flag technique that often results in a surge of nationalism after crises (Pearl Harbor and 9/11 for example).

 

Henry David Thoreau, who inspired the title of this post, quite blatantly.

Usually I brush off these comments because generally it’s only a passing piece in the conversation and once said it’s quickly forgotten. However, sometimes I feel obligated to disagree or offer a different perspective. I struggle sometimes with wording my comments correctly (this is probably because of many factors—being an English major who seeks to craft perfect wording, not wanting to offend others, wanting to offer insight, but not knowing how much historical background or understanding others have and not wanting to cause another to unnecessarily doubt or question without choosing that path).

Despite these concerns, I comment a decent amount in settings where my views represent the minority or dissenting opinion. I think it is incredibly important in these situations to respond civilly and to show respect for those that may think differently. While I am somewhat skeptical of the amount of thought that people have put into forming their own beliefs, I have found it better to treat them as if their beliefs have been formed after serious thought and soul-searching. I want my beliefs and opinions to be treated that way, so I strive to respond to others in kind.

It can be difficult in discussions of religion or politics where passions run hot and thought is tied closely to questions of absolute truth to maintain civility and respect. This is understandable given how close to our hearts the opinions and thoughts that are shared are. It can feel like the rejection of our opinions is the same as a rejection of us. This need not be the case. We can disagree with what people think while maintaining respect and love for those people (which happened recently to me in a discussion with other interns from BYU in DC, is modeled by Harry Reid and Mike Lee, Brigham Young and Orson Pratt and Prof. X and Magneto, who have a bit too much violence in their friendship for me, but still respect each other and want the best, even though they disagree).

 

Magneto and Xavier both seeking a better world, friends to the bitter end, even as they oppose each other.

The search for truth and understanding contains by necessity disagreement. If we never consider ideas that challenge our own, we can never move forward or fully form our beliefs. The truth will withstand whatever is thrown at it and challenging the beliefs that we hold will help us more fully form our own and realize the holes and flaws in the logic that we may be using to believe what we do.

"If we have the truth, it cannot be harmed by investigation. If we have not the truth, it ought to be harmed." J. Reuben Clark

Learning to respectfully disagree is also a wonderful life skill. I guess you could go through life agreeing with everyone and not really having thoughts of your own, or suppressing them in favor of others’, but that doesn’t seem like a great way to live to me. Our perspectives can change and be broadened as our beliefs are challenged. We may believe even more fiercely that our ideas are right, but ideally that belief will become more nuanced, a deeper belief that acknowledges the validity and appeal of the ideas of others.

We need to embrace disagreement and debate, while staying away from contention. That may seem paradoxical to some, but I don’t find disagreement and debate inherently contentious (perhaps because I love debate and playing devil’s advocate). I think the difference is in the goal of the discussion. As long as the end goal is understanding and the conversation is filled with love then contention isn’t a worry. However, when the focus begins to be more of a tearing down of others rather than reaching a mutual understanding, the tone shifts toward contentious.

“Civil disobedience is a moral weapon in the fight for justice.” The Great Debaters

I think adjusting this quote slightly gives some insight into the role of civil disagreement. It could read, “Civil disagreement is a moral weapon in the fight for truth.” Yes, I claim morality of disagreeing civilly. Let us all fight for truth using moral weapons and disagree, but do it civilly (you know, while drinking tea [herbal or fruit tea, obviously], listening to Chopin and eating cucumber sandwiches or muffins).

Questions and Progression

I have loads of questions, which probably isn’t surprising to most of you (especially given my skeptical and curious nature, questions are kind of my life-blood). Sometimes people don’t know how to respond to this, since they associate questions with this negatively connoted idea of a house about to fall or straws being placed on a camel’s back until it breaks. Then they usually offer up some well-intentioned, but ultimately (for me) unhelpful analogy, largely because they misunderstood what I meant by saying I had lots of questions.

Examples include: putting all the questions in a box, or on a shelf, or that the Gospel is like a puzzle or brick wall- just because we don’t understand how it fits together right now doesn’t mean that it won’t fit together at some point in the future- just put those pieces/bricks that don’t seem to fit now off to the side until the right time comes along.

I think that any of the approaches advocated by any of these analogies is flawed. First, I don’t think that trying to sweep our questions away until a better time is really the best way to address them. Second, I think that questions can lead to revelation and a better knowledge of the truth.

I think that addressing questions head on is the best strategy to find new insights and to feel better overall about what’s going down. The danger in setting questions aside is that if they are real, deep questions, they’ll always be lurking around the back of your mind. The more questions that you add, the more likely it becomes that you will be overwhelmed and crushed with questions.

However, if you embrace the idea of questions and face them head on you can receive new revelation and insight. You may not find answers to your questions (I know that I rarely receive final answers, but frequently gain new perspectives and insights, occasionally leading to more questions. I love having questions though, it gives me a sense of comfort.). Not everyone is as comfortable with questions and ambiguity as I am and that’s fine. But if you have questions hopefully this can help provide some comfort to your situation.

A couple of approaches to questions can be useful. One is questions and innovation, largely focused around three types of questions, why, what if, and how. I was also reminded of a talk by Bruce C Hafen, “On Dealing with Uncertainty.” He discusses three levels of dealing with life. The first ignores reality imagining an ideal, the second erases the ideal focusing on reality, and the third strives to push reality towards the ideal.

In both of these scenarios, the purpose of action and questions is to help push reality to a better place. I think that if the approach of questioning is to gain a better understanding of the truth and doctrine, then ask away. If you ask questions just to get a rise out of people or to show your superior intelligence (which is a temptation of mine that I strive to resist, carefully phrasing my questions and thoughts as alternatives, not inherently better or superior frameworks for understanding the world).

For me, the asking of questions is more meaningful and enlightening than finding the answers. My understanding of the Gospel is deepened and my perspective broadens becoming more nuanced and applicable. The search may lead to some temporary answers, but those generally give me more questions. Part of that is my struggle with the idea of ‘knowing’ things, so I choose to believe, even if I don’t know. Questioning is my way of showing that I value the Gospel and consider it worthy of examination, thought, pondering, etc. I don’t question to pick it apart, but to gain a better understanding, to try and learn how everything fits together and creates a comprehensive whole (or soul, perhaps).

Questions forever!