MrShorty

FWIW, if it is legit, I would be concerned as a member of the church. There are some "optics" around this that could easily backfire on the local ward and the church as a whole. I think most of us are aware of the disclaimer on the bottom of the church's donation slip that states that all donations become the property of the church to be used as it sees fit. Advertising this as an opportunity to donate to a fund that will benefit the poor and needy, but without a way to demonstrate that the money actually went to those purposes could create some bad optics for the church. It isn't hard for me to imagine someone becoming "offended" if they believe their money is going to help poor people to later discover that their fast offering donation ended up paying for the ward's utilities. One strike I see against legitimacy -- I see no mention of tax deductibility. It could have been overlooked, but I would expect any well thought out donation campaign like this would include some mention of tax deductibility.

It's a significant tangent from the main thread topic, but I often wonder about all of the people who sincerely believe stuff that I think is wrong. What will happen to all the sincere Protestants and Catholics and other Christians who failed to accept the restored gospel? What will happen to all of the sincere LGBTQ who reject the church's stance on their choices because they believe God has communicated that He approves of their choices? What will happen to the sincere LDS who believe (or have believed) that race is an indicator of divine disfavor? What about sincere LDS who believe that all are alike unto God and race is meaningless? I look around the world and I often think of the fate of those who sincerely believe the wrong thing. Most of the time, I end up in a place where God knows how to redeem these sincere believers. Latter-day Saintism has taught me that God has contingency plans to re-educate in the next life those who didn't know better in this life. He has taught that necessary ordinances/rites/sacraments can be performed by proxy so that no one misses out on those. At that point, I usually end up trying to figure out what might be the important things to learn in this life. From this comment, I wonder if the most important thing to learn in this life is epistemic humility. The ability to accept that you might be wrong about something and are willing to change your beliefs and practices if/when God tells you they need to be changed. This might even be what Alma was talking about (Alma 42) when he talks about "the penitent man." Of course, I look around at my fellow LDS and I see some who seem so certain of their beliefs that I wonder if they, too, will find themselves arguing with God when He tells them something they believe is wrong.

FWIW, in the current lesson scheduled for June 8-14, the curriculum writers left out any reference to the commandment of genocide. The commandment Saul disobeys is unnamed. To extend @The Nehor's point, I find that "we don't know" often has two meanings in the church: 1) We legitimately don't know whatever it is. 2) We don't like the answers that we can immediately see, so we claim not to know, hoping that there will be an answer that we do like sometime in the future. Similar to @The Nehor's example, I've seen some frustration recently expressed by some scholars and content creators around the church's "we don't know" in the heading to OD2. We know enough of the history to know the reasons given by the 19th century church why the priesthood and temple restriction was put in place, but we've disavowed those reasons, but we are unwilling to provide alternative explanations, so we preface OD2 with "we don't know." Which isn't to say that I expect us as a church to know everything. I believe there are some issues (like the problem of evil) that are ultimately intractable, and there is an inherent element of not knowing. I think it would be valuable for us to explore these places where we don't know and see what is really going on behind it. For me, most of them end up boiling down to something intractable, and it is helpful for me to acknowledge that it is intractable and why it is intractable. Too often, it seems like our not knowing is a kind of self-induced blinder to prevent ourselves from actually looking at the difficult issue.

At the risk of putting the burden of speaking for the whole church on you, I often see this and wonder if it really means that the church is not interested in being part of these discussions. I understand that the church needs to determine how to best utilize limited classroom time and other resources, but it sometimes feels like the church really just wants to wash its hands of the whole thing and not be involved. Even looking at the "Obedience" topic in the "Topics and Questions" section of the Gospel Library (where one might expect the church to publish some kind of wrestle with the moral ambiguities of obedience) finds nothing that talks about what we are talking about here. Putting my point into a "stages of faith (McLaren style)" paradigm, a comment like this sometimes feels to my like the church is disinterested in anything beyond stage 2. For those who transition into stage 3 and on to stage 4, some find that the church is no longer relevant to them. It's important to note that stages are not better or worse, just different, so it's perfectly fine to want to minister to those in stages 1 and 2 and not other stages, but that also means that the church can't be surprised when some people determine that the church is no longer relevant for them. This doesn't mean the church needs to use its limited SS/PH/RS time for this purpose. It can figure out other ways that it wants to be involved in these discussions -- if it wants to. This kind of comment makes me wonder just how universal/catholic the church really wants to be.

Agreed, though I would divide the "difficult" things into two categories. There are difficult but morally neutral things (like pushing boulders up hills) and there are things that are difficult because they violate our sense of ethics and morality (like genocide or slavery). I think there is real value in preparing ourselves to perform difficult tasks that are inconvenient or tedious or that may seem like busy work. I think there is a real difference when we are talking about preparing ourselves to be obedient to directives that run contrary to our sense of right and wrong. This is when I think the question of prophetic fallibility must be addressed. If a prophet is going to tell me that God expects me to practice polygamy even though my wife is adamantly opposed to it, that prophet needs to be prepared to explain why he thinks this command came from God, including all of the ways that he might be mistaken and the measures he has taken to avoid mistakes like the 19th century saints made in practicing polygamy. Even after all of that, God (the gatekeeper of testimony) will need to confirm such commands to me. I've reached a point in my deconstruction/reconstruction where I no longer believe that obedience to prophets (or maybe even God Himself) is the highest virtue. If fallible prophets make immoral demands, then they must expect that I will not comply. Until they really wrestle with their own fallibility, fallibility is the first "excuse" for my non-compliance. This, I think, is where we ought to begin. You are correct, we and they are extremely reluctant to identify specific mistakes. In many ways, I'm beginning to see this as expression of the "preface paradox." We acknowledge in a vague way that prophets can make mistakes, but we are unable or unwilling to identify specific mistakes (except, perhaps, for personal errors like wearing ugly ties). The preface paradox is supposedly an expression of epistemic humility. Even though we currently can't recognize our mistakes, we are implying a willingness to recognize those mistakes later when new information comes to light and correct them. The problem that I see is that, in spite of new information, we and our leaders are reticent to acknowledge mistakes that have been made. For many in faith crisis, this leads to a "trust crisis" where they decide that they cannot trust the prophet to acknowledge mistakes, so they can no longer trust the moral directives the prophets make. Which is fine for you and the majority of LDS who would agree with you. For those of us in faith or trust crisis, does the church want to help rebuild some of that trust that has been lost in their eyes? As I look at the church's efforts to help people like me, it seems like all it knows how to do is gloss over the moral ambiguities of the past, often invoking God's ineffability. It's true that God and His purposes can be difficult to impossible for mere mortals to comprehend, but it sometimes begins to feel like we are invoking God's ineffability in order to avoid making hard conclusions about the truth or error of scripture and prophetic declarations. That, I find, doesn't help inspire trust in following current prophets into morally ambiguous paths.

The underlying assumption that I see is it is more important to believe and trust (and maintain loyalty and obedience to??) prophets than to follow your own moral compass. Based on my experience and what I hear talked about in various faith crisis circles, I think your observation is largely correct. Something about the tension between prophetic moral authority, prophetic ecclisiastical authority, and personal authority to discern right and wrong is a significant part of many faith crises. I am less convinced that it is a universal negative that some decide that they can no longer submit to the moral authority of our leaders (and sometimes even refuse to accept their ecclisiastical authority). In my own current state, I have no trouble granting the church ecclisiastical authority -- the authority to decide who receives sacraments/ordinances/rituals and who serves in what callings and so on. However, I can no longer grant the church and its leaders unquestioned moral authority because of the doubts and questions and concerns about several current and historical issues. At present, I think one of the biggest "blocks" to this is the church's refusal to really wrestle with what it means to be led by a fallible prophet. IMO, if it is such a horrible thing to have people conclude that the church is not everything that it claims and then leave the church, I think it would serve the church well to explore why people leave and seriously consider what, if anything, the church can do to help people stay. IME, the church as a whole does not really want to do the hard work necessary to help people resolve their doubts, questions, and concerns.

I find that this gets to be one of those thorny issues that we struggle to really have a good answer for. Yes we are excited to have what we think is a definitive answer for the "what happens to those who never here of Christ or the gospel?" question, but, no matter how hard we try, we still end up with gray areas. IMO, the hard part isn't about the ancients or those in far flung locations where the name of Christ rarely or never is spoken. The hard scenarios for us to grapple with are those that are a lot closer. With all due caution about judging individuals, consider hypothetical cases like: 1) A person who was very active in the church who one day encounters a bit of troubling history, this discovery triggers a "faith crisis." After much study and prayer, they determine that the church was never everything it claimed, and they withdraw from participation in the church. They may find a different Christian/religious home or they may choose no religious participation. 2) A person who lived in close proximity to a loved one who is a member of the church. They would have many conversations with their loved one about the church, maybe some missionary lessons, but ultimately they never feel sufficiently convinced of the church's truth claims to fully embrace the restored church. Pres. Nelson in his Apr. 2019 Conference address ("Come Follow Me") described a scenario like #2 and seemed rather skeptical. He "question[ed] the efficacy of proxy temple work for a man" like that. I'm sure we could come up with other "hypotheticals" if we wanted to. Ultimately, what I see in our beliefs and practices around the redemption of the dead is a slippery slope that leads down to near universalism, and that makes us uncomfortable. So we spend some of our effort trying to find footholds and handholds on that slippery slope to avoid the bogeyman of universalism. Every attempt at drawing lines around who can and cannot be redeemed in the next life ultimately includes a scenario that someone thinks should be excluded and excludes a scenario that someone thinks should be included. We eventually end up with the less than satisfying answer that it will ultimately be up to God and we are incapable of making such determinations. Ultimately leaving latter-day saints who know and love people in those gray areas uncertain about their future, contemplating "sad heaven" scenarios, and trying to figure out how to really trust that God knows how to untangle these knots.

Here's what I see in the BoM text itself: 1) After the Lehites left Jerusalem, they kept records. After they split into Nephites and Lamanites after Lehi died, the Nephites continued to keep records. Not much is said about Lamanite records, if they existed. 2) After 1000 years, when we get to Mormon's day, there is a library of records that Mormon becomes "librarian" over. Mormon, claiming divine inspiration, takes it upon himself to abridge what he considers a vast library of writings into a single work that he calls the Book of Mormon. Mormon does this with only few direct references to the text of the library of writings that he is referencing, and gives no indication how he chooses what to include and what not to include nor how he evaluates his sources (other than to claim divine inspiration for his choices). He includes in this abridgement a collection of writings called the Small Plates of Nephi. Moroni adds his abridgement of the Book of Ether and a few of his own writings. 3) Based mostly on Moroni's promise and a few other passages, Moroni, at least, and perhaps Mormon, too, expected a measure of skepticism from his/their future readers. They encourage the reader to accept the text as "true," perhaps without further explaining what it means for the record to be "true." That seems to me to be a summary of what the text claims for itself -- A divinely inspired summary of Nephite history based on the library of records that Mormon had access to in about 400 CE. We in the 21st century generally acknowledge that ancient people didn't do history the same way that we do, and Mormon does not reveal much about his methodology. Mormon does say that his overall purpose is to testify of Christ, but does not elaborate on how that purpose influenced choices he made while summarizing the history. This could be important because we can look at other texts and see how an author's purposes influence the history they write. I am far from an expert, but I have had some quick introductions to the conflicts and comparisons between the Books of Kings and the Books of Chronicles in the Old Testament, and how the differences reflect differences in the authors' basic theologies and purposes for writing these histories. In the case of the BoM, we have no alternative histories to compare to and we don't have access to any of Mormon's source documents. Does that seem accurate?

I liked it. I've also seen commentary by those involved in the project (in particular Jim Bennett). Most of what I saw from the series was a chance to address some of the hard issues in a way that is neutral to somewhat positive towards staying in the church. The producers say that they have no interest in convincing people to stay or leave, but there also seems to be a slant towards seeing how people who choose to stay deal with these issues. One of the most interesting and compelling cases that was highlighted was John Gustav-Wrathall who was excommunicated years ago, married a man, then felt something (the Spirit) prompting him to come back to the church, but not to separate from his partner. Because he won't separate, he can't be rebaptized, but he participates to the extent that church policies and his leadership will allow, and finds meaning in that.

I agree, it would be fascinating to be a fly on the wall for such a discussion. Usually when I think about this, as much as I might want to think about how it plays out when discussing Abraham and Isaac, I usually end up thinking it might actually work better later, when discussing 1 Sam 15 where we can talk about obedience and the commandment relayed through Samuel to Saul to kill all of the neighboring Amalekites. That lesson often focuses on verse 22 and 23 that asserts that obedience is what God really wants, and one could then ask questions like, does this kind of unfailing obedience extend to things like genocide that one might believe are immoral or unethical? Saul got called on the carpet for disobedience, but his disobedience appears to have been motivated by greed. What if I were in Saul's place, but my disobedience was motivated by the fact that I think genocide is a horrible evil? Much worse than letting past injustices go unpunished or learning how to live peaceably adjacent to people who worship differently than we do. I have no idea what the conversation might look like, but that is a conversation I think would be interesting.

Tangent alert! In the spirit of "the more things change, the more they stay the same..." Interestingly, I hear this kind of sentiment a lot in modern faith crisis circles. "If the church has gone back on (fill in the blank -- Biblical racial curses, creationism/anti-evolution, apostasy of same sex couples, Lamanite descendants, or whatever change you identify), then was there anything true about anything the church taught?" And I see this sentiment outside of LDS deconstruction circles, such as Rhett McLaughlin who has been on a few podcasts in recent months and describes his deconstruction as starting with creationism/anti-evolutionism and, when he discovered the holes in his fundamentalist apologetics, he started asking what else he had been wrong about. I can't help but wonder if we could carefully explore this across time and issue, we could pick out some general principles for why some people have such a hard time when the church changes or appears to have been wrong about something. A few of the things I would hypothesize are part of this experience. As @Navidad mentioned the other day, certainty seems to play a role. I think another tendency we have is to interrelate things. "If the Joseph Smith was a prophet and..., then (a long list or even everything else the church teaches) must also be true." Christ's atonement is only meaningful if humankind is fallen, which means Adam and Eve must have been historical and the fall occurred exactly as outlined in Genesis, so therefore evolution and/or death before the fall must be false." I would also think that "all or nothing" or "black and white" attitudes have a role to play, too. There's probably more. I kind of hate to speak ill of such a spiritual or revelatory experience, since it clearly had great meaning to her, but it sometimes feels to me this idea of an "Abrahamic sacrifice" (almost always some kind of obedience test) becomes more about dismissing doubts and questions rather than really grappling with them. We say it was an Abrahamic sacrifice for some to practice polygamy. It was also an Abrahamic sacrifice for some to abandon polygamy. Every question of "obedience even if my moral and ethical compass tells me otherwise" ends up being answered with "obedience is best, because Abraham did it, and God rewards obedience, even if the command is morally or ethically questionable." I'm starting to count months until this shows up in our SS classes.

Not in a ritual way, but words also reflect the person's inner state. "I/we hope God will heal you" could reflect an inner uncertainty or an inner certainty that God won't heal someone but they don't want to actually say that or could be their way of not leaning confidently into the inspiration present. "I/we command you to take up your bed and walk." could be a reflection of the person's confidence or could be a reflection of their arrogance. I can't speak for Pres. Nelson, but I think the end goal for sincere blessing-givers is to do your best to discern God's will and put that discernment into words for the benefit of the receiver. Ever since "Spiritual Treasures," I'm leaning more and more into a priesthood of all believers kind of model, where "type of authority" only matters for those ordinances/sacraments that are "ecclesiastical" in nature (baptism, confirmation, sacrament, for example). In the specific case mentioned in the OP, it was a parent/father performing the ecclesiastical ordinance of naming a child before creating a church membership record for that child (not that the record wouldn't be created without the ritual) with the bishop and membership clerk standing by creating the record. But many other circumstances of a parent wanting to bless a child could easily be done by either father (whether formally ordained or not) or mother. A few years ago, when I was diagnosed with cancer, in addition to calling in some friends from church to give me a blessing, I often wish I had had .... something (precedent or guidance or something) ... to ask my wife to give me a blessing. Simply by virtue of being married, I now feel like she has authority over me sufficient to give me a blessing. At the bottom of this slippery slope (introduced to me by Pres. Nelson's Spiritual Treasures talk) is that one can pronounce a blessing simply by the authority granted by being a believer who feels inspired to give a blessing. I know that it's awful Protestant of me; so be it. Based on current rhetoric, I feel like the church is tying a lot of this to the temple endowment rather than priesthood ordination, so the current rhetoric would lean towards that this kind of authority must come from the Restored Gospel. To me, this feels like a slippery slope. Once we drop the requirement for formal priesthood ordination for giving blessings, it seems kind of arbitrary to stop at receiving endowment or being baptized. I can see how these represent footholds on the slippery slope, but I think it would take more to explain why our currently chosen foothold is where God chooses to stop granting authority to give blessings.

@ZealouslyStriving I think you are right. This shows that many of us don't understand priesthood. As the Eunuch said to Philip, how can we understand if someone doesn't teach us? At this point, it seems that most of the teaching on the topic is vague, based on prooftexts and traditions. I'm not going to feel bad that I don't understand priesthood because, if I might be so bold and irreverent, God's system of teaching lacks clarity and certainty. Many LDS claim that God's system is designed to be uncertain. Sometimes so that God can hide important truths from those He doesn't want to learn truth. Sometimes it is about protecting the ignorant from knowledge. And other reasons pop up. In mortal topics (like math), when broad groups of students have trouble understanding the topic, educators delve into the curriculum and try to figure out how to better teach the topic so that students will be better able to understand the concepts being taught. If many LDS are not understanding priesthood, when should the church and its leaders begin to examine the curriculum and root out the flaws and errors in the curriculum? Now that I have entered the discussion, this topic is one I have struggled with, too. I have wondered how the question of women versus men holding the priesthood might add to the discussion. It comes up fairly frequently, but a question like what is the difference between an endowed woman praying for someone who is sick and a pair of ordained elders performing the rituals related to the priesthood ordinance of blessing the sick? When Pres. Nelson gave his "Spiritual Treasures" talk, I found myself contemplating what formal ordination brings to ways that we strive to serve and bless each other, and I haven't found a good answer to the question. If I had to speculate as to the answer to the OP, I think there is a sometimes subtle distinction between prayers where one is pleading with God for some blessing, but doesn't feel confident enough in God's will to command (for lack of a better word) God to grant the blessing. When giving a blessing, the voice (male or female) somehow has gained enough confidence in their understanding of God's will to "command" the blessing. That confidence in knowing God's will can, IMO, only come from the Spirit in the moment. At that point, the problem I see with Pres. Nelson's disappointment is -- what was the father supposed to do? Postpone the blessing a week while he spent more time trying to understand God's will for his child? Defer to someone else to act as voice in the blessing while he stepped aside? I guess a lot depends on whether we thing we can command God to grant His Spirit to us in the moment or not. IMO, God is the gatekeeper of His Spirit and, when He decides to withhold, we can often only do our best to pray for our desires and then hope God grants them in His mercy. At that point, I wonder if what the utility is in publicly expressing disappointment in someone else's best efforts to exercise the priesthood that they hold.

I agree with most of what you said, including this. However, I feel to push a little bit back on it. Why do we not think that a sacrament meeting or fast and testimony meeting is not the right place to talk about the different paths that God seems to lead us down? One thing I see somewhat regularly in the "faith crisis" space is a sense of loneliness or solitude because people struggling or deconstructing feel like no one else at church understands or shares their experience. I saw a recent piece by Jared Halverson where he talked about the time a family member (mother-in-law, if memory serves) left the church. After the fact, she told him that part of why she left was that she couldn't find anyone to talk to who shared or understood or was interested in her experience. Halverson, of course, resolved to make sure that people around him knew that he was interested in sharing those experiences. I sometimes can't help but wonder how much of the "brittleness" of some people's church experience could be made more resilient if we had spaces (it doesn't have to be Sacrament meeting) where those with doubts, questions, or other "faith crisis" issues could find community within the church. It sometimes seems to me that our public worship and classroom settings are exclusively reserved for "yes-men" who believe and say and do all the right things, unintentionally pushing those with real doubts and questions towards the edges of our community.

As we've been going through the D&C this year, one thing I keep coming back to is how Joseph Smith wrote most of the revelations in the D&C in the voice of God (or God in first person, or whatever the proper way to phrase the concept is). What do we make of this practice? In most LDS commentaries (in the classroom or in other publications), we almost exclusively comment as if God really did speak the exact words Joseph wrote down. As I become more aware of the idea of scriptural errancy, I find myself often wondering if God really said the things that have been attributed to Him. In this respect, this isn't really any different than when I ask myself about things attributed to God in the Old or New Testament. It often feels similar to what happens when I read the gospels where each author attributes words and actions to Christ and then we are left to grapple with what is historical and what is propaganda (for lack of a better word). In another direction, as I spot check Community of Christ's D&C, I see that they perpetuated the tradition of writing revelations in the voice of God until nearly the 21st century. It quickly becomes apparent that writing something down in the voice of God does not automatically mean that God spoke those words or gave that revelation. Any thoughts on the prophet's practice of writing his revelations in the voice of God? Any 19th century historical context that might contextualize the practice? Other thoughts?

Off on another tangent, and I think I've said it before in this group, but epistemology is an important part of my own faith "crisis," and this is one of the things I find very interesting about our epistemology, especially when revelation from God is supposedly among the possibilities. I largely agree that we sometimes can't know what we don't know just like our predecessors couldn't know some of the things that they didn't know. While I'm not interested in condemning them for what they seemingly couldn't know, I think there is value in trying to understand why they couldn't know so that maybe we can figure out how to know some of the things that we can't know. At some level, when direct revelation is considered a possibility, part of people not knowing what they can't know comes down to God's decision to withhold revelation. This eventually means that some of these questions ultimately become "problem-of-evil-like" problems, because God seems to have some "culpability" for people not knowing any better. I find this to be incredibly challenging.

Exactly. That lack of full, wholehearted conversion suggests to me a lack of full and complete consent. That Joseph, himself, may have been uncertain about the rightness of the practice is also problematic, IMO. We claim that God values agency very highly, sometimes above all else. It's quite a tangent from the OP, but how does God value doing something that runs counter to your sense of right and wrong -- even if you believe that He commanded it? How do angels with flaming swords and threats of eternal destruction figure into God's idea of how we consent to the choices we make? Because we tend to use historical precedent to judge the morality of our own choices, what are the implications for the things we declare right and wrong today?

@teddyaware It's interesting how sexual mores and ethics have been an important part of my faith crisis/deconstruction/reconstruction. I started from the same kind of "good boys don't want or enjoy" sex that you describe, deconstructed that (which included deconstructing prophets, since Pres. Kimball et. al. were adamant that oral sex was inappropriate in marriage, which let me see that sometimes the church's sexual ethic is overly and unnecessarily conservative/restrictive). As I deconstructed my sexual ethic, I came to see, as you said, that one man could possibly romantically love and desire more than one woman at a time without disobeying God's laws. However, it was a slippery slope. I could also see that it is possible for one woman to romantically love and desire more than one man without disobeying God's laws. Eventually I came to accept that a man could romantically love and desire another man (and woman-woman). The church taught me an overly restrictive sexual ethic, and, when I deconstructed that, I discovered that proper sexuality could incorporate a lot of situations. At present, my sexual ethic is mostly built on principles of consent, mutuality, and agency. When I think of the problems I see in the 19th century practice of polygamy, those are the problems that I see. Let's face facts -- Emma never consented to Joseph's polygamy. Sure she occasionally gave verbal approval (always under some form of duress, IMO), but it's clear that she was never fully and wholeheartedly converted to the practice. On that basis alone, Joseph should have never married other women.

Presentism is a tough nut to crack. The other day, I listened to a podcast talking about changing attitudes in the church and the broader culture towards tattoos. In my youth in Utah, tattoos were very much "sinful" since they tended to represent rebelliousness. Today, tattoos are much more acceptable in the broader culture and carry multiple meanings. Of course, there are other cultures and times (thinking of the Pacific islands here) where tattoos were considered good. Was it wrong to villify tattoos in the past? Is the current laissez-faire attitude towards tattoos closer to how God views tattoos? However I and the culture of my current time and place might feel about tattoos, I sense that tattoos are not that morally significant, so maybe it doesn't matter that different cultures in different times and places have different opinions about tattoos. How far does that go, though? Ancient meso-American clutures (the Aztecs, Mayans, and others) believed in human sacrifice. Perhaps I am just committing the sin of presentism, but my sense of right and wrong says that human sacrifice is wrong no matter the time and place. I recognize that nothing I can say or do in the 21st century can change what was happening in these cultures 500 years ago, but I cannot simply say that human sacrifice was "good" because their culture said it was good. I feel like I can say the same kinds of things about historical practices of slavery and genocide and racial segregation. The problem with the church and Biblical history is that my church traditions tell me that I should accept the Bible and our prophets and apostles as moral authorities in my life. That they are important in helping me determine what is right and wrong. But these traditions don't tell me what to do when these moral authorities have their own questionable morals. Why should I accept the Bible as a moral authority when the Bible's morality includes genocide? Why should I accept 19th and 20th century LDS leaders as moral authorities when their morality included racism and segregation? If there are moral issues that have an absolute answer that is independent of time and place and culture, how will these sources help me recognize moral absolutes and distinguish them from issues that aren't morally absolute? So often, it seems that we get so worried about somehow "condemning" historical figures that we don't address the more important implications for our own efforts to discern right and wrong today?

@Calm It's been a couple of weeks, so I don't remember everything they discussed. The big one I remember was for the church to put much greater emphasis on service missions and much less emphasis on proselyting missions. I think there might have even been a comparison to Peace Corps or similar programs where young adults could be sent around the world for humanitarian work with no push for any kind of proselyting.

I understand the sentiment, and mostly agree with it. The problem I see is that we sometimes use this to excuse or rationalize some pretty awful beliefs and practices. Slavery and racial segregation leap to mind. The argument goes something like God recognizes that the church would not/ could not survive if it treated a group of people as their equals so, under the guise of Biblical curses, He implements (or allows) the church to restrict those people from full participation in the church. I've said before in this group that this can lead me down the slippery slope where, if God can tolerate slavery and racism, then maybe He can tolerate same sex romance or gender transitions or who knows what else. This is one of those places where I find real conflict between the part of me raised in a high demand religion and the laissez-faire part of me. The high demand side of my wants to insist, along with Nephi, that "God cannot look upon [some] sin with the least degree of allowance" and tries to identify what sins and evils that God must speak out against no matter what level of preparation people have experienced. The laissez-faire side of me insists that God can redeem anyone from any sin or evil because God is just merciful in that way. Again, I agree with the overall notion that God meets us where we're at and helps us grow from there, but I think it really only works for "good, better, best" kinds of things ("we're not ready for full consecration, but maybe we can try tithing until then"). I think we need to be careful of the slippery slope that leads to justifying and rationalizing real evil under this kind of belief that God accepts us wherever we are at and is infinitely patient with the pace (or lack thereof) of growth. Sorry for the tangent. Resume your regular discussion.

I agree that it would be interesting to see a statistical analysis of Moroni's promise. I would hypothesize that it would be similar to the statistical analyses that have been done for "faith healings" rituals in hospitals, where the results seem mixed (suggesting, at best, weak correlations). I agree that the BoM seems to be the strongest conversion tool we have, and we've been using it and Moroni's promise for almost 200 years. As strong as that conversion tool is, a very small percentage of those who have been contacted have joined the church, and a fraction of those drift into inactivity or even turn away from the church. Again, I'm not sure of the exact success rate of Moroni's promise, but I would hypothesize that the correlation is far from strong.

I'm aware of a handful of people who claim to have sincerely asked and been told that God didn't want them to believe in the BoM. I guess we can always second guess any claims to sincerity, but I choose to take their claims to sincerity at face value.

I think this is where Pres. Nelson's skepticism regarding the post-mortal opportunities of a man of his acquaintance (see Apr. 2019 Sunday AM talk titled "Come Follow Me") has received a lot of flack over the years -- even being nicknamed the "sad heaven" talk. As much I'm inclined to agree with you, I find that there is some very real tensions bordering on "paradoxes" in the church from top to bottom about just how much leniency there is. Our "high demand" side is extremely uncomfortable with the idea that someone might "get away" with rejecting the LDS gospel in this life. Our more universalist side is uncomfortable with any rhetoric that might declare someone permanently unworthy of exaltation and redemption. Truth seems to be somewhere in the nebulous middle of those two extremes. Pres. Nelson tried to find that middle, but, because he seemed to lean too far towards the skeptical side, I think he missed the real truth, but it's admittedly very difficult to discern that middle. Something about this D&C cycle as we studied The Vision a couple of weeks ago brought to my mind the importance of the hope that comes out of the more universalist side of this paradox. It seems to me that it is important to lean into the universalist side of this "contrary" if for no other reason than to preserve hope. Moroni (or was it Mormon) had some pointed things to say about having hope in Christ for salvation. It might be offensive to the "high demand" side of our culture, but I think that keeping hope alive is important. I don't see anything good that comes out of the kind of skepticism that our high demand side expresses about people's post-mortal opportunities.

I'm reminded of a video where Bart Ehrmann (former conservative Evangelical turned atheist/agnostic, though still prominent in the world of Biblical studies) was talking with someone (a Christian apologist of some sort or another) about evidences for the Resurrection. The apologist naturally brought up the claim that there are several different "witnesses" of the resurrection mentioned in the Bible and maybe a few extra-Biblical sources. Ehrmann pointed out that there are at least as many witnesses of a similar type for Joseph Smith's gold plates and the angel Moroni (which he amusingly pronounced Mo-ro-nee) and such. However, as Ehrmann correctly pointed out, the Christian apologists don't want to give the Book of Mormon any kind of credibility, so it seemed a bit hypocritical to accept the usual witnesses for the Resurrection while rejecting the witnesses for the Book of Mormon. As I pointed out in the "poaching" thread, I don't have a problem with people coming to different conclusions about what is and is not scripture and the exact nature of scripture. But I usually want to discuss the issues with someone who is also willing to explore the same weaknesses in the Bible. While we are talking about the dearth of archeological evidence for the Book of Mormon, can we also talk about the absence of evidence for an exodus from Egypt, for any of the Biblical people prior to about King David? Can we have the conversation respectfully?