Too pretty to be a Republican

On my way to work today, I passed a car with a bumper sticker reading "Too pretty to be a Republican." The woman driving it was, indeed, very pretty.

My Family's Encounters with Atheism

I would like to describe the changes which have occurred in the last three years since my last post.

Firstly, I am now the proud father of three young sons. My oldest, currently in kindergarten, has a very sharp and inquisitive mind. I believe he has inherited the high intelligence that I, and my father, and my father's father have had. He has already asked us of the veracity of Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, and God. My wife and I have lied to him and told him that all are true.

There are, of course, various reasons why we adults lie to children. In the case of my own, they are very young, and I don't want to turn them into broken cynics. Even though there is no God, I think a belief in God is useful for turning children into good, decent adults. My own belief in God as a youth was very helpful for my moral and spiritual development. I think that my son will have no problem finding the truth out for himself when he becomes a young man, and he will be better off for having discovered it by himself.

"When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things."

As for my other two sons, they are too young to understand or question God.

My wife is starting to come around. I have shared with her most of my doubts, but I have done so as gently as possible. She is currently reading The God Delusion, by Richard Dawkins, which I gave to her for Christmas. She understands and agrees with most of the points Mr. Dawkins has made, but she cannot let go of her belief in God. We talk about the topic often. Her position, if I understand it correctly, is that she needs to believe in God so that she can feel in control of the uncontrollable. Her primary fear is that the children will die young, and she believes that if she lives righteously and prays to Heavenly Father, He will spare them.

As for myself, my doubts have not assuaged over the last three years. Rather, as these ideas have stewed in my brain, my convictions have evolved from gnostic theism to agnostic theism, then onward to agnostic atheism, and at the present I can say confidently that the chance of God existing, and of existing in the particular way I once believed Him to, is infinitesimal. I am effectively a strong atheist, and I live my life with the implicit assumption that there is no God.

I should mention, at this point, that I and my family are still very much active Mormons. We go to church faithfully, we pay a full tithing, we hold temple recommends, we take the sacrament, my wife and I serve in callings, we hold family home evening most Mondays, we read from the Book of Mormon every night, we strictly obey the Word of Wisdom, and we pray together often. We have kept our doubts to ourselves as much as possible.

In short, my wife and I are orthoprax, but heterodox. This may seem contradictory, but even though I no longer believe in God, I do believe in righteousness. In fact, since discarding my belief in God and Joseph Smith's prophetic calling, I have had to discard little else. Most of the gospel principles, with the sole exception of those geared towards obedience to priests, work out just fine with or without divinity. Besides, I think it's advantageous to keep active.

The primary advantage of staying in the church is for the women. My three sons will grow up and marry someday, and I want them to marry the best women possible, which I define as descended-from-the-pioneers-white, upper-middle-class, active Mormons, like us. In other words, I want them to marry attractive, establishment women. Due to the principle of assortative mating, my sons will therefore need to be attractive, establishment men.

I don't want to do anything to jeopardize my sons' eligibility with those attractive Mormon women, and becoming inactive would do that. There will be plenty of time for them to cast off false truths and superstition as they mature in adulthood; there is no need to require them to confront it during the headstrong, zealous age of late adolescence and early adulthood. Let them have a testimony, and let them use it to attract the right kind of women.

Mormonism, for me, is an important ethnic identity which I want my children to share. I hope that they will be thoughtful enough to disregard the untrue portions of our religion as I have, but even if they don't, I expect them to live happy, virtuous lives. They could certainly do worse than to remain true-believing Mormons.

A Positive Testimony

I was reading some of the posts I've made on this blog so far, and they seem negative. So I'd like to write about something more positive.

My wife and I went out on a nice date last night. We went for a little hike along a trail at a local creek, which we had never been to before. Then we went out to dinner at a nice restaurant and ate a duck.

We hadn't been on a date in a few weeks, so it was really nice to have some time just to talk to each other and be together.

Like other Mormons, marriage and family is very important to me. See, for example, this excerpt from the Church's page on marriage:

Because marriage is such an important relationship in life, it needs and deserves time over less-important commitments. Couples can strengthen their marriage as they take time to talk together and to listen to one another, to be thoughtful and respectful, and to express tender feelings and affection often.

I'd like to bear my testimony of this principle. I know it's true.

Garments and Physical Protection

My brother, whom I will call Daryl*, was using a blow torch yesterday and burned a hole in his pants. His garments were untouched. He and his wife, who are quite faithful, admired this fact, apparently ascribing it to the miraculous protective properties of the garment.

As for myself, I love the garment. I feel comfortable in it. Since I first received my endowments, I have loved wearing the garment. It makes me feel good.

I appreciate the rich symbolism of expressing my temple covenants in a physical way. I like the spiritual protection I receive from the garment against temptation. However, I don't believe that wearing garments offers extraordinary physical protection.

In this case, I think Daryl* and his wife were engaging in magical thinking, which is human nature, but not factually sound. I was polite and didn't say anything about it, though. I definitely don't want to upset their own faith.

* Daryl is not his real name.

Dreaming of Freedom

I often find myself staring out the window while at work, gazing at the blue and gray Wasatch mountains, ancient and resolute, hiding some world of wonder behind them. I watch slim twenty-something women walking in the parking lot below, and wonder what it would be like to know them.

I find myself fantasizing that I am somewhere else, or someone else. Dreaming that I am handsome, rich, immortal, charismatic, or brilliant. I dream of unbridled freedom. I can pick up and live in Ireland for a season if I wish; I can learn how to paint, or play an instrument, or explore a remote jungle. When life begins to feel too stale and ordinary, I can just move on to the next adventure, just as I may scan a peach tree and select the fattest and juiciest fruit.

In practice, however, I am chained to my responsibilities. There is always someone to please, someone who has expectations of me. My family expects me to provide them with a living, and care for them, and love them. My neighbors expect me to keep my yard neat. My supervisor expects me to be at work for 9 hours a day and be productive. Church, family, and friends all expect me to reach out in some way or another to causes beyond the limits of my own desire.

In my imaginative trance, these expectations do not exist. I am beholden only to my own ego and whim. I enumerate all the things I would buy and places I would visit if I keep my generous income to myself, if I were free from the needs of tithing, taxes, and the hungry mouths at home. I think of all the long walks I would take, the fascinating books I would read, and the new foods I would eat, if I had time in the day.

Have I always been so self-centered, or is this a new development? Is my yearning for something greater a hearkening to the old mysticism which I have abandoned? I admit that since losing my faith, I am in a state of transition and confusion. Anomie swirls about me like a blinding mist. I am not certain of any belief anymore, and I struggle to find profound meaning in my life. I am diffident about committing to any idea which requires a leap of faith. Should I suppress my forbidden knowledge and return to blissful ignorance? Should I abandon my inhibitions and recklessly pour out my new philosophy upon the world? Or, should I remain in-between, tepid, impotent, and ineffectual? How do I satisfy my hunger for freedom, without betraying what I already have and love?

Makeup Sex is the Best Kind

My wife and I had an argument last night. It's a rare occurrence. After we put the kids to bed, we talked for an hour or two. We openly shared our feelings, we laughed, and we settled our differences. By the end of it, I was feeling very good and very happy with our relationship.

Naturally, I wanted to seal the deal with some reconciliatory lovemaking. She was too tired. It's just part of the yin and yang of our relationship, I guess. When I'm cynical, she's happy; when I'm happy, she's cynical. When I want to go out, she wants to stay home; when I want to stay home, she wants to go out. We balance each other out.

I expect we'll practice the marital act tonight. It won't be quite as sweet as just after resolving a fight, but it ought to be good anyway. Next time we fight, I'll make sure to have it finished early with plenty of time left over for us to fully express our forgiveness towards one another.

How would my life be different if I were not Mormon?

If I stopped being Mormon tomorrow, how would my life be different? I have no intention of leaving the Church, because I like it, and I think it's more good than bad. So this is really just a mental exercise. It's part of keeping an open mind. So, would my life be turned upside down if I left the Church? Probably not.

I consider substance abuse to be vulgar, so I wouldn't start using alcohol, drugs, tobacco, or coffee. (I do eat a lot of ice cream, though, which is kind of against the spirit of the Word of Wisdom. As long as I stay at 130lbs., though, I think I will continue to abuse the creamy, delicious substance, Mormon or not.) My class snobbery would also prevent me from taking up swearing or wearing sleeveless shirts. I mean, come on. I don't live in a trailer.

I wouldn't be unfaithful to my wife, because I feel a deep sense of loyalty to her and the children. Plus, it's not like hot women are throwing themselves at me anyway. Or even not-hot women.

I wouldn't stop paying tithing, because our household finances are all held in common, and my wife would want to keep paying it. Fast offerings, too. Withholding these from her would make me feel like a selfish jerk.

I'm not going to get Sundays off, either. It's likely that my wife would exploit my churchlessness to make me get the kids ready for church in the morning or do the dishes while she's away. "It's not like you've got anything better to do," she might say, "so you may as well get something helpful done while we're gone at church." It wouldn't make for a very relaxing nor satisfying Sabbath.

Before I went to the temple, I used to wear a cotton T-shirt and boxer briefs under my clothes, which is pretty much the same as the garments I wear now. So even that would be almost identical.

The only things I can think of which would change are negative. I wouldn't be able to participate in priesthood ceremonies. My kids would have to be baptized by some other dude. People would stop asking me to offer prayers. I'd have a lot of awkward conversations with people when they ask something about church and I tell them I'm not a member anymore. My neighbors would avoid me at the supermarket.

On the plus side, I'd be free to engage in loud laughter and lightmindedness. And I wouldn't have to call people and bug them about whether they got their home teaching done. Nevertheless, I'm sure I am happier in the church than I would be out of it. I don't think I'm really missing anything by being a member that I would indulge in if I weren't. Except, maybe, the loud laughter.