A Model of Mormon Spiritual Experience, Part
1
Myriad Answers to Prayer
By Kevin Christensen
When I considered all these things and that that being seeketh
such to worship him as worship him in spirit and in truth therefore
I cried unto the Lord for mercy for there was none else to whom
I could go. [Joseph Smith, 1832]
Why make a model of religious experience?
Ian Barbour writes that models are “organizing images used to
order and interpret patterns of experience.”
Take one aspect of Mormon religious
experience. How do you answer the question, “How are prayers
answered?” Mormonism contains a far more comprehensive answer
to that question than we generally realize. The stock answer,
based on the D&C 9 revelation to Oliver Cowdery, is a good
beginning, but unfortunately, we too often stop there. In this
paper, I list scriptures that describe at least thirty different
ways that prayers are answered. The Bible contains just a few
descriptions; the modern scriptures contain many.
Thirty different kinds of answers may
sound like a lot to manage, but if you ponder them for a while,
they do suggest patterns. The first pattern I noticed was the
division between Feeling kinds of passages, such as D&C
9:8-9, and Thinking kinds of passages, such Alma 32:34. This
natural complementary relationship between Thinking and Feeling
aspects is a very useful beginning in ordering the kinds of
experience described in these scriptures.
But that beginning leads me to take
the question a step further. How do the kinds of spiritual
experiences described in our scriptures compare to the kinds
of spiritual experiences that underlie the spiritual experiences
of mankind in general? How do we orient ourselves in relation
to everyone else?
We can start by looking at doctrinal
differences, but that immediately defines boundaries and erects
barriers. What do we have in common? Is there a common wine
of core religious experience that remains fairly constant despite
the differing doctrinal wineskins that we use to carry them
in? Scholars of religion like Rudolf Otto, Ninian Smart, and
Mircea Eliade have made significant studies of comparative religion.
Where do we fit in their pictures?
Often our first attempts to orient
ourselves place us squarely in the shoes of Joseph Smith when
he began his religious quest. We have our minds disquieted
by a confusing array of religious claims. The confusion is
something that we all have to order and interpret at some point.
It is difficult, if not impossible to communicate with those
of differing views, or ever to take bearings on our own position
without some place of fairly solid footing, a common ground
upon which most people can at least comprehend. Ideally, we
seek a vantage point that can both explain and order commonality,
and that can also account for differences.
Here is my suggestion for a model.
Consider three intersecting axes, with each axis describing
a relation between complementary contraries.
Joseph Smith remarked that “by proving
contraries, truth is made manifest.” By looking at the relations
between these intersecting sets of contraries, I hope that certain
truths can be made manifest. William Blake astutely observed
that for any complementary relation of this sort, if one side
of a contrary relation attempts to destroy its complement, it
ends up negating itself. For instance, thinking that
neglects feeling demonstrates ignorance; feeling that takes
no thought has no heart. After we look at thinking and feeling,
we shall consider like relationships between the other contraries
in this model.
Thinking and Feeling
Yea, behold, I will tell you in your mind and in your heart.
(D&C 8:2)
“Study it out in your mind,” Oliver
Cowdery was advised (D&C 9). Alma speaks of moments when
your “understanding doth begin to be enlightened, and your mind
doth begin to expand” (Alma 32:34). These, and many other scriptures, relate thinking,
knowledge, and understanding to spirituality. But, of course,
spirituality involves deep feeling as well. Nephi writes, “He
hath filled me with his love, even unto the consuming of my
flesh” (2 Nephi 4:21).
The scriptures speak of feelings of
joy and sorrow, sinfulness and forgiveness, consolation and
pain, humility and strength. The mind and the heart participate
together in spirituality. A feeling may provide the motivation
to seek knowledge; knowledge gained may provoke other feelings.
As you read through the scriptures in Appendix A, notice the
range of and the respect given to both thinking and feeling
experiences that come through the spirit, and the typical movement
and relation between them.
Different people may prefer or respect
either thinking or feeling more. A preference one way or the
other is natural. Even so, both thinking and
feeling should play a role in spiritual experience. Because
both contribute, an undue emphasis on one, without considering
a balancing contribution from the other, can only serve to impede
spiritual growth. But thinking and feeling alone do not completely
define the experience of the sacred.
Numinous and Mystic
In a classic study, The Idea of
the Holy, Rudolf Otto studied the characteristics of a type
of religious encounter that he named the numinous. Ninian Smart sums up numinous
experience as “a mystery which is fearful, awe-inspiring...
and fascinating.”
But above all, the sense of presence
which confronts a person in the numinous experience is majestic:
marvelous in power and glory. In their rather different ways,
the experiences of Arjuna, Isaiah, Job, Paul, and Muhammad are
all numinous in character.
Ian Barbour emphasizes the “sense of
otherness, confrontation and encounter” when “man is aware of
his own dependence, finitude, limitation, and contingency.” This experience usually occurs
in institutionalized worship situations involving personal models
of God. The worshipper often bows to show humility, acknowledging
inferiority and distance, and feels contingency and a moral
demand. Worship involves sacrifice and petition.
Upon reading descriptions of numinous
experience, those familiar with LDS scriptures should immediately
think of Joseph Smith’s first vision, of the vision of Moses
in the Pearl of Great Price, of Lehi’s vision of the throne
of God, of the climactic moments of Benjamin’s sermon, and of
the manifestations at the Kirtland Temple. To a degree, at least,
the Mormon experience partakes of the numinous. However, there
is another kind of religious experience that has characteristics
quite different from the numinous. This is mystic experience,
as reported by such persons as the Buddha or Ralph Waldo Emerson.
Mystical union is characterized by
“joy, harmony, serenity, and peace,” and a sense of the unity
of all things and loss of identity. Separation seems illusory,
differences and dichotomies of opposites are transcended. Most
often, the mystic stresses the ineffability of the experience
and uses impersonal models of God. This experience usually occurs
in response to contemplation, mediation, discipline, and possibly
asceticism.
Some kinds of mystical experience are
without question foreign to Mormonism, as discussed by Hugh
Nibley in The World and the Prophets. Nibley cites such
differences as the impersonal models of God, the emphasis on
meditation as strict discipline requiring a teacher-guide, and
the ineffable, incommunicable, and solitary aspects of the experience
of mystic illumination.
However, differences between mystic
experience and Mormonism are not the whole story. Numinous encounter
has predominated in the West and mystical union in the East,
but all the major religions have included both types of experience,
and this is true of Mormonism as well. Mark Koltko’s insightful
essay, “Mysticism and Mormonism,” explores parallels between
various Mormon scriptures and certain characteristics of mystical
experience. Koltko’s “eight central qualities
of the mystical or transcendent experience” are the “ego quality”
(cf. D&C 88:6; Moses 7:41); the “unifying quality” (cf.
D&C 88:41), the “inner and subjective quality” (cf. Moses
7:48); the “temporal/spatial quality” (cf. Moses 1:27–29); the
“noetic quality” (D&C 38:1–2), the “ineffable quality” (3
Nephi 19:19); “the positive emotion quality” (2 Nephi 4:21);
the “sacred quality” (3 Nephi 11:15; Moses 1:11).
In a separate study, I observed some
striking parallels in the “light” passages in D&C 88 and
the language Emerson uses in his 1836 Nature to describe
some of his experiences. But even while it parallels
aspects of Emerson’s experience, much of D&C 88 reflects
numinous experience and eschatological intent that is totally
alien to Emerson’s thought. So we arrive at the point of needing
to understand the relation between numinous and mystic experiences.
If we think of the numinous and mystical as poles on a continuum
of experience, we can begin to appreciate the distinctiveness
of Mormonism in relation to these experiences without feeling
threatened by the comparison.
Commenting on the numinous and the
mystical, Ian Barbour writes: “The polarity of withdrawal and
approach, or distance and identity, seems to be present within
the experience of the sacred, though for different individuals,
one aspect or the other may be more prominent.”
I see the experience of the sacred
in Mormonism as bridging the numinous and the mystic. After
a numinous theophany, Moses announces, “for this cause I know
that man is nothing” (Moses 1:10). Yet a few verses later, changing
perspectives, he makes a declaration amounting to intimate identity.
“For behold, I am a son of God, in the similitude of his Only
Begotten.”
The tension of distance most evidenced
in Joseph Smith’s first vision, D&C 76, Moses 1, Benjamin’s
coronation speech, and Alma’s conversion, resolves towards a profound intimacy:
And then shall ye know that I have seen Jesus Christ, and that
he hath talked with me face to face and that he told me in plain
humility, even as a man telleth another in mine own language
concerning these things” (Ether 12:39).
But such intimacy in Mormon thought,
even when described as Oneness is typically associated with
a personal deity.
Then shall ye know that ye have seen me, that I am, and that
I am the true light that is in you, and that you are in me;
otherwise ye could not abound.
The implications of this bridging of
kinds of experience go beyond a license to make historic and
scriptural parallels. According to Ninian Smart, the numinous
and mystic poles of experience influence patterns of doctrine.
If you stress the numinous, you stress
that our salvation or liberation (our becoming holy) must flow
from God the Other. It is he who brings it to us through his
grace. You also stress the supreme power and dynamism of God
as creator of the cosmos. If, on the other hand, you stress
the mystical and non-dual, you tend to stress how we attain
salvation and liberation through our own effort at mediation,
not by the intervention of the Other… If we combine the two,
but accent the numinous, we see mystical union as a kind of
close embrace with the other — like human love, where the two
are one and yet the two-ness remains. If the accent is on the
mystical rather than the numinous, then God tends to be seen
as a being whom we worship, but in such a way that we get beyond
duality.
Here, I believe, is an essential distinguishing
characteristic of Mormonism — the blend of the numinous and
the mystic. This explains the Orthodox discomfort with the Mormon
idea of deification (something quite unthinkable to one caught
up in a purely numinous tradition), as well as the Eastern discomfort
with our literalism and personal God (again, something quite
unthinkable to one caught up by the emptiness of pure mysticism).
For the same reason, the blend in Mormonism explains Nephi’s
insistence on combining grace and works — “By grace we are saved
after all we can do.” Our need for grace offends
the self-reliant mystic, and our effort towards perfection offends
those who depend on pure grace. By pointing out the experiential
roots behind such doctrinal disagreements, I feel that we have
much to gain. Against the background of comparative world religion,
Mormonism appears as the more comprehensive and inclusive faith.
For one thing, it becomes apparent
that by treating numinous and mystic experience as contraries,
we can solve various problems that come up in other traditions
because one or the other aspect of the sacred has been excluded.
Mosiah deliberately strives to awaken in his people a sense
of their nothingness (Mosiah 2:25, 4:5) in contrast to the numinous
majesty of the Almighty. But when that necessary awareness has
done its work, he describes his people as “the children of Christ”
(Mosiah 5:7).
The danger in a strictly numinous tradition
is that humankind tends to be seen as depraved and contingent.
For example, “Luther’s outlook, with its undue respect for power
and authority, and its sense of the complete sinfulness and
evil in the human being when left alone” can be seen as unhealthy to
the human psyche.
On the other hand, a mystic like Emerson
can preach an admirable “Self Reliance.” But even the memory of an
experience of unity with an impersonal Oversoul turns out to
be altogether inadequate when he had to confront the death of
his son, Waldo. Self-reliance was not enough.
And even his Oversoul could not bring Waldo back. Mormonism provides the strength
gained from the union of complementary experiences.
Additionally, an awareness of mystic
kinds of experience within our own tradition should provide
grounds for better communication with peoples raised in those
traditions. For example, David Peck suggests that 2 Peter 1:5-11
“stands out as an example of the Christian correlative to the
mystics conceptualizations... whether we adopt the terms employed
by Peter [faith, virtue, knowledge, temperance, patience, brotherly
kindness, and charity] or those of the mystic (knowledge, discipline,
devotion, and pure love), the path is generally the same.”
The last thing one might expect Joseph
Smith to have in common with some Eastern mystics might be an
interest in seer stones and treasure seeking as a transitional
stage in their spiritual development, but here it is. Craig
Miller provided the following quote:
In yogic practices, the crystal plays a very important part.
In South
India there is a particular science called anajan, meaning not
known. It consists of different methods of projecting the illuminating
superphysical facility through a crystal... When the illuminating
facility is directed towards a person or an object which is
missing, it can be immediately known where that person or thing
is. Thus, treasures which are buried underground, or objects
which are very distant can be directly observed.
This kind of comparison provides a
positive context for Joseph Smith’s involvement with seer stones
and money digging (cf. Joseph Smith — History 1:56), making
the experience a vital preparation, rather than somehow tainting
his mission. Even so, while this comparison provides parallels,
still others provide enough contrast that we cannot explain
Joseph as “just” another mystic.
Of the translation process, Blake Ostler
made the following observations:
Joseph’s state of consciousness differs from shamanistic possession,
classical mysticism, and most reports of automatic writing in
that he did not lose consciousness of his surroundings or become
dispossessed of his personal identity. Further, there is no
evidence that he claimed to hear a voice or take dictation from
another personality, unlike cases of spirit writing or channeled
texts.
While studying near-death experiences,
I noticed that researchers have made comparisons between the
aftereffects of the NDE and the aftereffects of various mystic
experiences. In my turn, I noticed several points that should
be of interest to Mormons. Along with distinctive attitude and
behavior changes, some NDErs report “new-found psychic powers;
according to the researchers, telepathy, precognitive insights,
out of the body sensations, deja vu episodes occur with unusual
frequency.”
Kenneth Ring uses this increase in
psychic development as a point of comparison between NDE aftereffects
and the kundalini experiences with higher consciousness. Ring
quotes Gopi Krishna:
One who has attained to a higher state of consciousness...
should be characterized by four exceptional attributes, namely
genius, psychic talents, lofty traits of character, and an expanded
state of consciousness... He finds himself in possession of
channels of communication which, acting independently of the
senses, can bring him knowledge of events, occurring at a distance,
and also visions of the past and future. His utterances may
become prophetic and he may acquire a healing touch.
Joseph Smith, of course, displayed
all of these traits. Recall the striking reports of precognition
and clairvoyance (such as those involving Oliver Cowdery’s arrival),
and the later visions, especially in relation to the Book of
Mormon translation. Joseph’s description of the revelatory process
compares with NDE reports of access to pure knowledge.
This first comforter, or Holy Ghost
has no other effect than pure intelligence... expanding the
mind, enlightening the understanding, and storing the intellect
with present knowledge... It is calm and serene... A person
may profit by noticing the first intimation of the spirit of
revelation; for instance, when you feel pure intelligence flowing
into you, it may give you sudden strokes of ideas.
Compare this from Reverend Carol Parrish-Harra’s
NDE account, quoted in Ring’s Heading toward Omega.
It seemed whole Truths revealed themselves to me. Waves
of thought — ideas greater and purer than I ever tried to figure
out — came to me. Thoughts, clear, and without effort revealed
themselves in total wholeness.
Also, from NDE experiencer Tom Sawyer
in Ring:
You realize that you are suddenly in communication with total
knowledge. It’s hard to describe... You can think of a question...
and immediately know the answer to it. As simple as that.
Where does all this knowledge go when
an NDEr returns to life? Carol Zaleski comments that along with
access to knowledge, “Forgetfulness, which has as important
a place as remembering in the mystical literature of the world,
is a recurring element in near-death reports.” During the Book of Mormon
translation, Oliver Cowdery attempted to translate and failed,
and through Joseph Smith received the revelation that became
D&C 9, which combines themes of knowledge and forgetfulness.
All of this goes to suggest that looking
at Latter-day Saint religious experience in comparison to other
accounts, whether numinous, mystic, or something with bridging
and in-between characteristics like the NDE literature, can only enhance our appreciation of the strength
of our tradition. For example, in light of these sorts of comparisons,
attempts to explain Joseph Smith as a deceiver appear as pitifully
inadequate. And considering the abundance of light that Joseph
Smith provided when compared to that returned by other visionaries,
attempts to explain Joseph as “just another” visionary appear
woefully weak.
As you read the scripture references
that describe spiritual manifestations that can come in answer
to prayer, notice that some dramatic
experiences might emphasize the numinous side of things, and
some the mystic. Others seem best described as something in
between, more like a loving “close embrace,” an at-onement with
Christ.
The next question is, how are we to
understand such accounts and experiences? Are they literal encounters
with the divine, or something wholly psychological? Do they
concern the inner life only (no trivial thing), or do they also
define a connection to an external reality?
Literal and Symbolic
For by the Spirit are all things made known unto the prophets,
which shall come upon the children of men according to the flesh.
Wherefore, the things of which I have read are things pertaining
to things both temporal and spiritual. (1 Nephi 22:2–3)
The Book of Mormon sets the pattern
for Mormonism by combining the physical and the spiritual, the
literal and the symbolic, the unique historic event and the
mythic recurrence. Nephi tells us that he is writing a history,
but that history is organized around the vision of the tree
of life. We can neither separate the history from the symbols
of the vision, nor the symbolic vision from the narrative history.
The vision is a historic event, and the symbols of the vision
come from the physical landscape. Yet the vision enacts current
tensions and future events in the history of Lehi’s family,
just as it depicts eternal realities.
Even when Nephi refers to history,
he does so, not to merely recite facts, but to “liken” the history
to his people, that is, to relive the patterns of creation and
Exodus, and make them actual in the lives of his people and
his readers (cf. 1 Nephi 19:23; 2 Nephi 11:2). The literal and the symbolic
illuminate and give meaning to each other; attempts to separate
them make no sense at all. Indeed, the tension in the between
the literal and the symbolic corresponds to quite neatly to
the Jung’s distinction between Sensing and Intuitive modes of
thinking. While individuals may have
a natural preference for one or the other, the modes compliment
one another and each performs essential functions beyond reach
of the other.
Mircea Eliade’s The Myth of the
Eternal Return explores the tension between the archaic
view, that nothing was truly real unless it repeated a pattern
or archetype, and the modern view that embraces unique events
and linear history. Eliade argues that the archaic
view sought to abolish time and history through “eternal return.”
While this view had several strengths,
especially in giving meaning to suffering, it can also lead
to a kind of fatalism. He suggests that Judeo-Christianity possessed
a unique historic consciousness, a respect for irreversible
events as theophanies, and an appreciation of personal freedom.
But the Book of Mormon has the risen Christ conducting the central
Temple rite of eternal return for the Lehite peoples, taking
them back to the beginning for a new creation in which “Old
things are done away, all things are become new.” Yet during that rite, Jesus’s
teaching to the people involves extensive prophesy regarding
the future of Israel, showing an intense concern with human
freedom and linear history (3 Nephi 20–26).
A paradox? Once again Mormonism provides
a marriage of complementary contraries, embracing both temporal
existence and eternal archetypes.
His paths are straight, and his course is one eternal round.
(Alma
37:12)
The literal and symbolic aspects of religion encompass
types of experience common to nearly all religions.
Read
Part Two
Next: Encountering Order and Creativity in the Physical World