Thursday, September 19, 2013

In Response to "Altruism?"

This is in response to a friend and coworker's blog post, relating to a discussion we'd been having at work. Head there first if you want a baseline. Head there anyway. :D Her blog is wonderful and she's a fantastically thoughtful, convicted, and passionate person. It's way too much fun getting into debates with her and the others in the "Fun Room" of Cedar Fort. ;)

 . . . I think people mistake or incorrectly apply the definition of altruism. It seems like people think of it as meaning you don’t care at all  (temporally or eternally) about the personal reward you get. If I had to use the word “altruism,” I would define it as doing the right thing for the purest, best reason.
I would take Merriam-Webster’s use of the word “unselfish” in the first definition (“unselfish regard for or devotion to the welfare of others”) to mean at that momentAt that moment, you don’t care about your own temporal needs and desires. “At that moment” could refer to that moment, that event, that day, or your whole life on Earth. However, we cannot become so good that we desire no reward. It’s not possible, even for God. He does good things because the end result brings him joy. The difference is how we focus on the reward.
It’s not possible to be good for no reason. It’s a logical fallacy. In order to have a reason, we must have a motivation. To have a motivation, there must be an end goal. Our end goal is a reward: happiness. Even achieving our goal is itself a reward. We always, whether consciously or unconsciously, desire a reward. The joy we get is already a reward on Earth, plus there will be blessings given in heaven. . . .” 
I think we mostly agree, but I approach the idea of altruism from a slightly different angle. Perhaps it is primarily a semantic difference? I think to start with, we're interpreting the definition of the word itself slightly differently.

Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary (11th ed.) defines “altruism” thus: 
“1: unselfish regard for or devotion to the welfare of others
“2: behavior by an animal that is not beneficial to or may be harmful to itself but that benefits others of its species.”
” 
Well, by those definitions, humans frequently perform acts that are "not beneficial to or may be harmful to itself but that benefits others of its species." Without having any sure knowledge of blessings or even existence beyond the grave, men and women have willingly sacrificed themselves in any and every sense for the benefit of another; often for complete strangers. How could this be anything but altruistic, as defined by Miriam-Webster?

Also, note the or--"is not beneficial to or may be harmful . . ." So by the strictest interpretation of the word, methinks, you can experience some satisfaction in a deed well done, and still define it as altruistic if you had to sacrifice something of yourself to see it done. Sacrifice, blessings, selflessness, self-fulfillment . . . these concepts do not negate one another. They can, and should, coexist quite happily. It's only when you define "altruism" in the most extreme terms--with the idea that any benefit to one's self, however unlooked for, negates the possibility that an act was "selfless"--that "true altruism" becomes "impossible." That, however, is not at all how I would define "true altruism." I agree most with your "In the moment" interpretation, and would submit that that is the truer understanding of the concept.

I truly do believe a person can be sincerely altruistic, in the sense that the motivation for doing the good work is a higher concern for the other person's happiness than for one's own. Sure, my well-being is important to me, and that isn't going to change. But your well-being is more important to me, and so I will perform this "altruistic" act for you. Sure, your happiness makes me happy, and that's nice. But it's not the result of my happiness that I'm motivated by. It is your happiness. Sincerely. I do not agree with the idea that my motivation is somehow subconsciously based in self-concern--at some level, no matter what--and that I'm just delusional if I think I care about you more than I care about myself. The human animal is capable of more than mere self-preservation, even when one's perspective is stretched to the eternal scheme of things, where blessings will be bestowed and all righteousness rewarded, and all that.

The fact that doing something "for no reward" can be, ultimately, "the most rewarding," is not inherently contradictory. It is, in my mind/understanding, simply gospel truth. If you're choosing the right and doing good things, you cannot avoid blessings--nor indeed should you want to. That would be plain unhealthy. . . . In fact, that brings up another type of motivation: those who "do the right thing" as a form of self-punishment, working toward forgiveness but refusing to ever acknowledge that it could be possible for their godforsaken soul . . . that's a particularly confusing version of "altruism," I think, and perhaps the most selfish of all . . . but that's completely tangential to my current point. ;) And, as you pointed out, that mode of thinking is definitely contrary to God's will for us, as he commands us to actively and intentionally seek after blessings.

But does a positive outcome for you mean you were somehow selfish in choosing to do the good thing? Does the fact of a later, perhaps unexpected reward--or even an immediate reward of "warm fuzzies" or what have you--automatically negate the altruism of the moment? No. Sure, on the sliding scale of reasons for doing good, selfishness exists as a motivation. The "good" of my earlier "good, better, best" quip you referred to. But real unselfishness also really does exist.

I also believe God is truly altruistic. He has absolutely everything. And yet he puts everything he cares about--including, and I imagine primarily, his own children--at ultimate risk . . . why? for THEIR benefit. OUR benefit. Does our success make him happy? Definitely. Just as our failure and our rejection of him brings him sincerest anguish. Sounds to me like a not-entirely-pleasant experience, which invites one half of the Webster definition of altruism . . . perhaps the lesser half.

Our progression provides him with the truest form of Joy, as the progress of our own children provides us with a shadow--a powerful, beautiful, exciting preview--of that same joy. But does he do this to and for us for the sake of his own experience of that joy? I might be presuming much, to "know the mind of God," but I would say that is not his motivation. He is motivated by true and sincere love for us and such a powerful desire for us to have as much Joy as he has, that he cannot help but put himself--and, in his divine understanding, us--in a position to experience pain in order to promote our ultimate well-being. He is absolutely behaving in a way that is harmful to himself but that "benefits others of [his] species."

Altruism, in my mind, is about the heart. It is about why you do the things you do, regardless of what blessings you do or don't receive, in this or any phase of existence. It's the motivation more than the result that defines altruism. And so, as I see it, the truest joys in life, and the greatest rewards, walk hand in hand with the truest form of altruism. They are so far from mutually exclusive.

But, again, I think we really agree on everything important, here. We're just debating the semantics. :)

Friday, February 1, 2013

That They Might Have Joy

". . . el cual castigo que se ha fijado se halla en oposición a la felicidad que se ha fijado, para cumplir los fines de la expiación . . ."
or in other words:
". . . which punishment that is affixed is in opposition to that of the happiness which is affixed, to answer the ends of the atonement . . ." (2 Nephi 2:10)
I read this line the other night, and it struck off a particularly interesting train of thought. (The context is Lehi talking to his sons—specifically to Jacob—about judgement and justice and mercy and opposition in all things, and all that jazz. ;) )

By the way, I've been reading the Book of Mormon in Spanish lately, which has occasionally led to a greater understanding of the text—mostly because I really don't understand what I'm reading, so I have to go slower, and occasionally whip out my English copy to double check meanings . . . so all in all, I'm paying more attention. :)

So the other night I read that line, and the though struck me: why do justice and mercy have to stand toe to toe like that? The Atonement is God's way of reconciling the two, but why did there have to be opposition in the first place? Now, obviously, Lehi goes on to explain exactly the answer to that question in the next verse, and I'm not exactly unfamiliar with the concepts, myself. . . . But this time my mind went in a slightly different direction. Sparked in part I'm sure by a discussion my parents had while we were at Olive Garden the other week, though I didn't think about that until later.

And forgive me if I ramble—it's not always easy to translate thoughts into coherent words. Also, just in case people actually *read* my blog, FYI: this post is assuming you know a little something about LDS doctrine. ;)

Of course we all know that couplet a couple verses down:
2 Ne. 2:25: "aAdam bfell that men might be; and men care, that they might have djoy."
So, then, what is this "joy," and why do we have to go through this mortal life full of trials to get it? It's not just "living with God"—we had that already, at least to some extent, in the pre-existence. No, it's being as God. Or being gods. Again, yes, this is a familiar concept to me. But why, to become gods, must we pass through trials?

Well, let's see: what is it about God that sets Him, and the holy state He is in, apart from the other kingdoms of glory? According to our doctrine, the primary thing is the continuation of the family. Not just eternal ties to the family you were born into and married into and made for yourself here on earth, but more. Spirit children. The ability to create worlds of our own and people them and continue the eternal progression of more and yet more human souls! How exactly all of this works, I don't know, though I do like to speculate on occasion . . . but that's beside the point just now. However it all gets organized, the fact is that you, if you become a god, will be someone's God! You will be responsible for countless—literally infinite—souls!

That is a lot of responsibility.

So quite honestly, these tests and trials we go through on Earth, these refining fires that make us marginally closer to being "perfect," they're not just about us. Eternal Joy is not just about you! It's not an individual experience, and could never be! So with that much riding on the outcome, God is NOT about to allow anyone into godhood who doesn't prove him or herself worthy for the challenge. Sure, in this imperfect world, parents are allowed to have children and then neglect or abuse or destroy them. But that's with the God of this world watching over each and every poor, abandoned soul. He's our safety net. And this mortal life will be but a moment. In the next estate, who knows? You can't afford to screw that up. God will not allow you to get that far, if you're not ready, or not willing, to do it right.

I mean, if it were just about us, and just about living with God and being "happy," this whole Earth experience might never have been necessary. Certainly Lucifer's plan wouldn't have been so bad. But this is about something more.

God is preparing us for a much bigger picture. More power, more responsibility, more agency, and . . . guess what? More trials. More challenges, more troubles, more sorrow. After all, God himself still has to endure trials, doesn't He? He gave His Son to die for us. He watches us every day as we stumble and fall and spurn Him, and that must be trying for Him.

Isn't that wild? Once you get to Heaven, it's not over! Come to think of it, it's never "over." There's no such thing as "over." Just like in this life—each new step you take to a new chapter of life just *adds* more stress, complications, responsibility, etc. Done with high school? Great. Now try college. Done with that? Okay, get a real job. Oh, and muddle through relationships. Get married. Have *kids.* And just as soon as you think you've survived the worst of it . . . Teenagers! ;D

But, with each new step, and each deepening level of hardship, comes that much greater a capacity for Joy. There's that law of opposition coming into play. Knew it would, didn't you? ;)

So then, great, Eternal Joy must inevitably be coupled with an equally exquisite potential, at least, for pain. I'm not trying to say that Eternal Life—Celestial Kingdom style—is gonna be a *bad* thing . . . but it will not be a cakewalk. And we will be impossibly responsible for the well-being of so many souls . . . so you really have to earn it. You really have to want it. Those people here on Earth who don't make it to that highest degree of Glory, for whatever reason, will still actually be relatively *happy.* Their worlds will be infinitely better than this one, and that's nothing to sneeze at. In some ways, based on my line of reasoning thus far, I suppose they'll even have it easier than those who go that extra mile and make it to the Celestial Kingdom.

Actually, that gives me a new thought just now—I've always kind of wondered how anyone could possibly refuse the full Gospel once they're actually in Heaven. (At least the "Spirit Prison" part.) I mean, you can see the Truth, can't you? But perhaps, in some cases, people really don't want the responsibility. They don't want the extra challenge, the extra potential for more heartbreak. They don't want to fight any more. They're ready to just rest. Be done with it all. And so, I suppose, they can be. That option does exist.

But whatever level of trial you're willing to fight through, and learn through, that's the level of Joy you manage to attain. And hey, I don't know what God's level of Joy is like—I don't have the capacity to understand even the concept of it. Not really. And if you don't know what you're missing, then maybe wherever you're at now is fine. Right?

But if God wants so much for us to attain His highest level of Joy (and who knows? Maybe it's not even the highest. Maybe progression really never ends. . . .), then wow, it must really be something.

Are you willing to risk the pain of losing a loved one, in order to experience the joy of loving them? (Is it, in fact, better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved?) Are you willing to risk the anguish of losing a child, in order to have one? Love is a risk. And Love is Joy. And Joy is Eternal, and amazing!

That is the point. That is why we have to have opposition, and justice, and mercy, and tests, and rules, and the chance of failure . . . even the choice of failure. Because it matters. And it's not just about you. But it's so much for you. If you want it. It's hard work, but it's worth it.



[[Edit: An important addendum I should make, which comes from a talk I just heard last night at Stake Conference: "Pain is obligatory, but misery is optional." That's true for sure in this life, and is very likely applicable in the next. Trials and challenges may continue, but especially with the Eternal perspective we'll have at that point, peace will be much easier to hold on to in the midst of the trials, I should think. :) You know, just in case I was painting a bleak and daunting picture of what I imagine to be the Celestial experience . . . ;) ]]