is there a place for heavenly mother in mormon theology?

If there are faults . . .
S U N S T O N E
to excise the mistakes of leaders than were the scribes of old. I
think a great strength of the Old Testament, in particular, is its
portrayal of the moral and the immoral. It is easier to contemplate
the difference when faced with examples, as well as principles
or rules. It is easier to feel God’s love and to find the
strength to be worthy of it when we know prophets have
stumbled and risen above their sins.
I would teach that scholarship, even controversial higher criticism,
is very useful. So much is hidden without a knowledge of
the historical, cultural, and linguistic heritage. I would provide
good research materials to our teachers and encourage them to
find and use additional sources. Of course errors will be made,
but errors are being made now. I would prefer errors which
can be questioned to errors accepted without question. I
would also prefer an environment in which members face the
fact that scriptures cannot always be taken at face value. I
would teach that the scriptures tell us God meets us where we
are. God has chosen not to insist on higher laws in some cultures.
I suspect he is lowering the bar for us, as well. And isn’t
that a useful thought to ponder?
I would teach that Jesus fulfilled the law. The higher law is now
the law. Much of the Old Testament is still instructive, but
much is no longer correct. This leads to my next point: I
would teach the Big Picture—the principles of the gospel
against which we test all that would claim to be true. We too
often teach rules rather than core principles. Love, justice,
mercy, free agency, honesty, compassion, and the dignity of
man cannot be denied by a scripture. If a scripture conflicts
with the most basic elements of the gospel of Christ, that scripture
is not binding. It may be good history or an interesting example
of man in error, but it is no longer prescriptive.
I would teach single passages of scripture only in context. Prooftexting
is rampant, lazy, and misleading. In one of his best
books, Religion and the Pursuit of Truth, Lowell Bennion says of
pulling a sentence out of context:
It is dishonest, unfair, and misleading, certainly with
no legitimate place in life, particularly not in anything
as sacred and important as religion. Bernard Shaw is
said to have remarked that the Bible is a wonderful
book because you can prove anything by it. He probably
is right, if one is clever enough with the textproof
method. Shakespeare expresses the same
thought in his picturesque way:
In religion, what damned error but some
sober brow
Will bless it, and approve it with a text,
Hiding the grossness with fair ornament.
—Merchant of Venice, Act III, Scene 2 1
I would teach humility. I cannot discern a rational explanation
to everything. My mind and spirit have frustrating limits.
They are not finite, though, and I hope to continue to expand
them both. But they are far from perfect, so I am slow either to
reject intellectually what is difficult to understand or to act on
anything that doesn’t square with my understanding of the Big
Picture. For example, I leave open the possibility there was no
other way to ensure Nephi’s safety and secure the plates than
to kill Laban, but, like Bill, I find the story troubling and far
less than a directive to kill.
I would teach that the scriptures are a case in point for the principle
that we must learn to deal with ambiguity. Rather than excise
conflicting versions of stories or accounts of what is immoral
by present standards, I would urge the student to consider the
blessing of a flawed or uncertain guide. How much better to
force us to seek inspiration or, absent answers (as is so often
the case), to muddle through with our best understanding of
truth. I think if God thought it wise for us to have daily tablets
written by his own hand, we would have them. But that would
be the next best thing to Satan’s plan. It is good for us to
struggle without clarity. Remember the Psalmist: “Rouse
Yourself, why do you sleep, O Lord?” (Psalms 44:24–27).
Remember the long Jewish tradition of arguing with God.
Jacob, Abraham, and Jeremiah all did it. Even prophets do not
have all the answers. The scriptures do not have all the answers.
I can expect fewer answers than I seek. And those few
better mesh with the Big Picture: Love and Justice and Mercy.
I would teach the importance of seeking the Spirit, not only in
scripture study, but in all that we do. The Spirit is not a substitute
for study but a companion to it. Integral, not exclusive. Last
month, a student asked me in a Relief Society class, “But how
do you know the Spirit is speaking?” It is a profound question.
Promptings can be so gentle we fail to recognize them for what
they are. Separating them from our own emotions and insights
is difficult. I believe a part of the answer is that if we have truly
studied any issue in our own minds, using all the good resources
we can, exerting our mental and spiritual powers energetically,
we are more likely to understand the Spirit when it
speaks.
BILL IS ABSOLUTELY right: We must bring critical
thinking to the study of religion. What could be more
worthy of our best resources? It is blasphemous to offer
less. Some of us are too vulnerable to the Lundgrens of the
world; others are missing so much of the richness of the scriptures
that manifests itself only when we understand their many
dimensions. Even if we seek truth by scripture, reason, experience,
and tradition, mistakes will be made. But even more mistakes
follow a fearful and prooftexting treatment. Scripture
study is not a rote science but one demanding all the resources,
intellectual and spiritual, we can muster.
NOTE
1. Lowell L. Bennion, Religion and the Pursuit of Truth (Salt Lake City: Deseret
Book, 1968), 165.
PAGE 32 JULY 2004