I recently listened to a podcast about the ways in which organizations are “games,” meaning structured in such a way to drive certain behaviors and outcomes or to reinforce desired behaviors by giving points for those and penalties for others. The interviewer discussed that this is particularly common in workplaces, but also in churches.
A few years ago I tried a new “mindfulness” app on my phone that presented short, guided meditations. I would listen to them on my commute if traffic was slow as a way to clear my thoughts and become grounded. Once I had done a certain number of these meditations in a specific time period, the app chimed in celebration as I leveled up, which I didn’t know was possible. Apparently, it was tracking my progress! Immediately, my first thought was, “Ha ha! Suck it, level one losers!” I’m not sure this was really the point of the app, to create a sense of superiority to others who hadn’t achieved as much enlightenment, but that’s how point systems work. When you get more points, you feel like you are winning. When others get more points than you, you feel like you are losing and eventually might lose interest in the game. In this case, I felt like the “level up” feature made the app a completely different kind of experience, and I quit using it. That wasn’t why I was using it in the first place. How do you become more mindful when you know you are being scored?
When you have a point system, it becomes really difficult to see what the experience is aside from the point system. On the other hand, when you don’t have a point system, it’s really easy to imagine you are doing better than you are, and those running the system often assume it’s working well when maybe it isn’t. After all, counter evidence is hard to find without a point system.
Points and scoring are helpful to see whether a system is successful, but points can also be deceiving. We can’t measure everything. There are many “false positives” when we rely on scoring systems to determine how well a system works. Let’s evaluate a few of them from the Church to see how effective they have been.
At some point in the last couple decades, wards began to have goals for all adults to have a current temple recommend. That’s clearly a point system. Wards can be evaluated on how “successful” they are by this one easy metric. It became the norm to only extend callings to adults who held a current recommend. I can assure you, if you are too young to remember this, that this was not a requirement for the majority of the Church’s existence. Reasons people didn’t have recommends varied greatly, but some of common reasons were: 1) not paying tithing, 2) no temple nearby so why bother, 3) didn’t have a reason to go to the temple (frequent proxy work was not the norm), 4) weren’t into genealogy, 5) had too many kids to deal with one more thing.
For a while in the early 90s, there seemed to be interest in tracking how often recommends were used, and barcodes were added to them to see how often people were going to the temple–definitely a point system. This was pretty quickly dropped, perhaps because of technologicial glitches, or perhaps because it was deemed a poor metric. Some skeptics theorized it was partly because they were running out of names and reusing them, and so the more often people attended, the more it became apparent that temple work was a waste of time (!). I’m doubtful this is the reason the barcodes were dropped since temple attendance remains a rhetorical focus at least among the leadership, and we keep building temples to make attendance easier. Dropping this tracking must mean actual attendance didn’t matter as much to church “success” as requiring a current recommend did. Members having current recommends gets the church a verbal attestation of orthodoxy and orthopraxy plus a boost in tithing. Temple attendance increases engagement, but also requires a lot of volunteer staffing and enough names that need to be worked (enter ancestry.com, stage right). Plus, it’s a big time commitment that people popping out kids left and right and holding time consuming callings might struggle to meet.
It’s pretty easy to see the fruits of tracking temple recommends and making it a point system to evaluate success. The Church is now flushed with cash beyond its wildest dreams, to the point that nobody knows how to spend it all, and the focus on orthodoxy (policing belief) and orthopraxy (policing action) has never been higher. It has essentially replaced the gospel. The attestation that all top leaders are “prophets, seers and revelators” has become not only required (it wasn’t in all prior iterations of the interview), but has completely taken precedent over studying the scriptures in our curriculum. As with my “zen meditation” app, you might say that the metric has replaced the gospel.
I could easily game that app to level up. All I had to do was let the meditation run in the background while not paying attention to it. I didn’t have to actually achieve enlightenment because you can’t track enlightenment with a point system. Likewise, you can’t track spirituality with numbers.
Here’s another example that every former missionary will know. Every missionary tracks all sorts of stats and has to set goals and then report on their performance every week in their letter to the president and in district and zone meetings. In my mission, not setting aggressive enough goals resulted in locker-room style yelling by nineteen year old boys who were put in charge. Failing to achieve your goals resulted in faux Tony Robbins style lectures from these same kids who would say nonsensical things about reaching up to Heaven and down to the people and bringing those two together or some such. It was pretty ridiculous. Visiting seventies would rant about missionaries not baptizing because they chewed gum or drank Coke or wore gaudy ties instead of conservative ones. But it was all numbers. Numbers, numbers, numbers.
Nobody measured how many lives were touched, women in domestic abuse situations were supported, drug addicts were befriended and loved. I’m not saying nobody cared about those things, but how do you measure the stuff of life, the truly spiritual connections between human beings? You really can’t measure what’s important, and when you measure what’s unimportant, that quickly becomes all you can see. Did it matter how many people were baptized when many of them didn’t stay in the Church anyway? All baptisms counted equally, whether they were sincere or coerced. Did it matter how many people heard various “discussions” when it counted equally if you taught someone who laughed in your face or who had tears in their eyes, when you “taught” it to a drunk person on a bus between stops or to a family in a home?
When I talk to former Mormons who served missions, many of them still feel very positively about their missions, but when they do, it’s entirely because of that second category of success, the connections with people, the ability to serve others whose lives are so different. They loved that kind of success, usually despite the unpleasant and distracting focus on the other kind of success.
To further explain game theory, the podcast mentioned another game called Train. (SPOILERS FOLLOW) In this game you work with other players to construct a train from point A to point B that will be efficient and be able to transport a high number of passengers. You are rewarded for accomplishing various tasks. At some point during the game, it becomes apparent that the train is going to Auschwitz, and you are working for the Nazis, which wasn’t known until you were well into the game, having accummulated a bunch of points. There are two responses when players make this discovery: either they continue to play to rack up points and win the game anyway, or they stop playing because it’s a terrible genocide situation that has revealed something to them about our human condition. Part of the psychology of this game is how players deal with sunk cost fallacy. After all, they’ve gotten so many points already, it feels a shame to walk away. And it’s just a game, right? Well, everything’s a game in life. Some games should be walked away from. Train is a game you only play once because as soon as you know the secret, you can’t really play it again. It’s a game that reveals the world’s point system to the players. Some games aren’t worth playing, even when you are winning.
We are often told you can’t win if you don’t play, but sometimes winning means stepping away from the points system. You don’t become enlightened by leveling up. You might get the most points, but you don’t really win by gaming the system.
- Can you think of things that we measure that are good indicators of true success in the Church?
- What are things we don’t or can’t measure that are true indicators of success in life and in the Church?
- Do you think Church members who refuse to play for points have a better or worse experience?
Discuss.
Wheat & Tares 
I don’t play games and I don’t trust people who do. The game elements you describe in the church experience might explain why I have zero trust for church leaders at this point. Everything starts to look like a superficial box-checking exercise. The important things are lost. Yet, at a local level it’s hard to blame people. They only have so much time to give in a church run by the voluntold, and the box-checking pretty much consumes it.
**You really can’t measure what’s important, and when you measure what’s unimportant, that quickly becomes all you can see. **
This is the crux of the post. And yeah I definitely agree, and it’s an ongoing tension. How do you measure personal progress on becoming a disciple of Christ? How do you quantify kindness or love? The most important outcomes of Christ’s teachings are not readily measurable.
OTOH, any leader in any organization wants data to guide your decisions. Same for a church leader, at any level. This means measuring something. Information begets inspiration. So leaders need metrics for decision-making purposes but shouldn’t get overly occupied with “hitting the numbers” because numbers never can tell the whole story. This applies to leaders in other types of organizations, but especially to church leaders because their desired outcomes are harder to measure than e.g. shareholder value. (Taking a non-cynical view of church leaders here.) And I worry about gamification of spiritual matters.
Too much focus on the easily quantifiable is not a new problem: “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for you tithe mint and dill and cummin, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law, justice and mercy and faith; these you ought to have done, without neglecting the others.” (Matthew 23:23, RSV).
On a less central point, my recollection is that temple recommends have been barcoded for roughly the past decade. There are multiple good reasons to have a barcode so I’m not convinced it was (just) for tracking. But I assume that it is tracked; someone in SLC can probably find some interesting patterns in the data. And the fact that showing up at the temple is track-able definitely does change the vibe, not in a good way IMHO.
Jacob 4:14 comes to mind—
“Wherefore, because of their blindness, which blindness came by looking beyond the mark, they must needs fall; for God hath taken away his plainness from them, and delivered unto them many things which they cannot understand, because they desired it. And because they desired it God hath done it, that they may stumble.”
The “mark” (could substitute the words “purpose,” “goal,” “intent,” “truth,” etc.) in this passage is the simple gospel of Christ. When the simplicity is replaced with an obedience, rules-based system created by men, the Church and its members stumble, because the focus is on the system rather than the truth. That’s my effort to liken this scripture.
I felt blind-sided with the Ensign Peak Advisors leak right before the pandemic and subsequent press releases/interviews from church leaders on the subject. Just like your example in the game of Train, I bailed on that practice of giving any more tithing.
Once I researched more about the history and connections to temple worship, free masonry, and polygamy, I could not in good conscience desire to attend or wear garments. Don’t care what good intent JS had for “sealing” people together. It goes beyond the mark.
And with all the evidence in the Church’s own Gospel Topic Essays against a number of truth claims, it’s like a game for many to find the nuances that give justification to keep asserting a testimony that “I know the Church is true.” Stumbling and blind indeed.
Wow, I’m going to be thinking about this post for a while. It rings so true to me. The OP didn’t talk about how church leaders also promise “blessings” for earning points, and when you receive blessings it’s probably because you’ve earned points…which adds an additional dimension to the “game”.
I recently made a journal entry for myself on this similar topic about “How the gospel is not a point system.” Growing up, I was taught or interpreted the gospel to be one big point system, where being righteous/obedient/doing good things gets you points and points=blessings. I’m very good at being obedient and I’ve always had a very good (privileged) life, so it was really easy for me to buy into this point system/blessing game. (Plus being part of a “chosen generation” and other rhetoric that made me feel special), I really thought I had it all figured out and my Testimony was all about a transactional gospel. That is, it was….until the point system stopped working for me- It was like someone changed the rules of the “game” and didn’t tell me. So I decided to “experiment upon the word” and stopped trying to earn points or ask for blessings, but the weird thing was that the blessings kept coming. In fact, I ended up getting a lot more “blessings” and salary/family relations/life all improved significantly.
Once I moved past the idea that the gospel is a point system, and determined that it’s not meant to be transactional, it has become much richer and more meaningful to me. But it also has it’s challenges. I was very motivated by the points/blessings, and now it is difficult for me to keep up my motivation of doing the right thing just because it’s the right thing without any hope of getting a reward for it. But I feel so much more free now. And I feel like I am able to have a much more real and meaningful relationship with God now that I’m not trying to earn points/blessings. To answer question #3, not playing for points has led me to have a much better life experience.
The down side is that my church experience hasn’t been as good as when I was playing for points. I feel like so many talks and lessons are still teaching that we need to play for points/blessings and I often want to scream “That’s not what the gospel is about!” (I am still learning what the gospel is about, and I still have a long way to go. I have many more questions than answers. But I seem to be finding the answers places other than at church though). I find the analogy of “leveling up” in the meditation app to be very similar to what I experience. At church there are a lot of people leveling up, and telling me that I should level up, and if I l do that I’ll earn prizes, but I’m like “No! Please! I really just want to meditate, just to meditate!”
I’ll hop off of my soap box now, (thanks for letting me get that off my chest) And thank you for this post! It really spoke to me.
Back in 1970 Thomas Monson said: “when performance is measured, performance is improved”. That pretty much sums up the Church’s approach, for better or for worse.
When I analyze the Church’s behavior I see it for what it really is: a large US corporation modeled after IBM circa 1955. Whether it’s the dress code, the push for conformity, the semi-worship of the top leaders, etc. IBM of 1955 has survived at 50 East North Temple in SLC. I’m not saying it’s good or bad. But I wonder if in the eternal scheme of things this is how Christ would want his Church to be run.
Another way we’re encouraged to keep playing the game is leadership callings. Members keep moving around the board (paying tithing, showing up to activities, giving talks, putting away chairs) hoping they land on the space where they can draw a chance card. And then they hope that chance card gives them a leadership position so they can see they are winning the game. And not only that, all the other players see they are winning the game as well.
Great and thought-provoking post. And quite timely. I was just recalling the absurdity of Elder Dunn’s GC talk from last October about being “1% better”. Several commenters have already made the point that the most impactful things having to do with the gospel (and really, life in general) are the least quantifiable and measurable. How do you measure or quantify your love for your children or partner, e.g.? And as you imply and several commenters point out, the tension between institutional practice/measurable goals is diametrically opposed to the fundamental aspects of Christ’s gospel. As josh h notes, when we’re talking about the church as an institution, we may as well be talking about any sort of U.S. corporate entity, because that’s how it’s run. We’ve got a bunch of religious leaders with business backgrounds, which means they and a significant majority of the membership see no problem with appropriating corporate practices, ideologies and culture and applying them to the church. And once you start creating metrics based on what corporate, profit-making institutions call “measurables,” you’ve just ensured that no-0ne with institutional buy-in will ever fully embrace the non-profit driven (unworldly) teachings of Christ.
I stopped worrying about all of this corporate crap years ago. It’s made actually attending church much less fulfilling and soul-crushingly boring, but it has freed me in many ways and I feel much better on the whole. I measure how and whether I’m becoming a better person by how I treat the people in my life and how they respond to me. I don’t trust many people, but I do trust my wife when she tells me I’ve done something to hurt her feelings and she’d like me to change my behavior. That’s how I measure myself: Am I doing fewer hurtful things and more helpful and loving things? Screw this points/game aspect of the gospel. It’s just absolutely miserable.
There’s nothing inherently wrong with metrics, of course. For example, it’s worth knowing what the Covid vaccination and hospitalization rates are in your home town, county, and state. As with any number, the bigger it is the less relatable it becomes. Can we really process the fact that almost one million Americans–and nine million human beings– have died from this virus in just two years (as well as speculating that the actual number is probably far larger).
Metrics, when it comes to religion and church, take us into much different territory. Traditionally, in the church (any church denomination) the two that matter most are “butts in the pews” and “money in the plate.” Each religion/church has their own variations on that theme. A deficit in either means you’re a failure. Because that’s the way our world operates. therefore, it’s essential to note Jesus’ explanation to Caesar’s representative that “My kingdom is not of this world,” which made no sense to Pilate. But if the church is to be at least a modest reflection of Christ’s “kingdom on earth as it is in heaven,” then our task is not worldly success by gospel faithfulness. Keep in mind that Jesus had more to say about money and wealth than perhaps any other topic.
As others have noted here, we can spend a lot of time and energy busily doing “churchy stuff” to improve our standing in the institution. Reminds me a lot of the way Pharisees are portrayed in the NT Gospels.
Great post. I had a conversation along these lines (minus the gamification link) a few weeks ago with someone who was tasked with planning and presenting our “Ward Plan” based on an “Area Plan” that we’d been given.
tl;dr is that I suggested that what was most important was (1) do people feel connected to Christ, and (2) do people feel a sense of belonging in our ward community? And this person agreed, but kept coming to the roadblock that they couldn’t present a plan based on that because it wasn’t “measurable.” So they were brainstorming ways we could set “goals” around that and then have ministering brothers and sisters reach out to their assigned people and ask how their “goals” are going. And I flat out said that if my ministering sister (who I love and does a great job) started asking me about my “goals” for Church, I would stop responding and it would ruin the relationship.
After thinking further, I think there *are* ways that we could assess (1) and (2) in the same way that an organization measures employee engagement & inclusion and belonging. My employer does this – every six months we do an employee engagement survey AND part of that survey is on inclusion & belonging. So we have a benchmark from the first time around, and then can measure improvement over time as well as solicit feedback about what we could be doing better.
But we aren’t doing that at Church. Why? Maybe because no one else has thought of my idea (doubt it, I’m smart but I’m not smarter than everyone in the entire Church leadership). But I suspect it’s more because WE DON’T ACTUALLY CARE ABOUT PEOPLE’S CONNECTION TO CHRIST AND A SENSE OF BELONGING IN THE WARD. We care about following rules, having temple recommends, paying tithing, etc.
BTW Angela – I’m pretty sure wards are being pressured post-covid to get everyone a temple recommend (was in conference talks as well) and I think bar codes have been back for a while and that they are tracking attendance.
When you reduce evaluations to easily measured activities, you frequently miss important impactful aspects of person’s life. Binary questions like “do you drink coffee or tea?” are easy to answer. “Do you live a Christ-like life?” is much more difficult to quantify. “How many BoM did you give out?” is easy to measure. “Are you an effective missionary?” less so. Spirituality is difficult to measure. In the Church, that becomes obvious when you see all the crooks with TRs.
The business model of Management by Objectives sucks. And I would argue it doesn’t work.
I used to be on the leadership path, but then I think I got “yellow carded” when I refused to violate my ethics and do what the bishop asked. Since then I’ve been on the “teaching path”, which is fine. It gives me more opportunities to teach critical thinking skills within a gospel construct.
On a side note, I’m super curious what the church”s dossier about me says.
Actually, I just heard about some research on intrinsic motivation. When performance is measured intrinsic motivation dies.
I’m reminded of a quote from many years ago, encountered during a Social Psychology course. Yes, we play a game. Yes, there are penalties in not playing a game. We can, however play the game without sacrificing integrity nor individual autonomy. It’s hard work but not impossible.
“They are playing a game. They are playing at not playing a game. If I show them I see they are, I shall break the rules and they will punish me. I must play their game, of not seeing I see the game.”
R.D. Laing
Come on JLM. What did you do to get yellow carded?
You just explained my teenage self to me. When I was in primary and YW, there were goals of attending our meetings, and doing service, and reading scripture, plus a lot of others that had even less to do with living a Christlike life. So, church attendance was counted and if we got 75% or higher we got a plastic thingie that was glued onto a felt thingie that went over our shoulder so we could show off. Or when we served refreshments at a wedding, or babysat so a young mother could attend the temple or do her visit teaching, or worked tending the children while all the ward mothers attended Tuesday morning Relief Society, we could just report those hours to our primary or MIA teacher and earn a plastic thingie to go on our shoulder thingie.
So, me, I never reported back to the teacher, on purpose, because I felt that the kindness of service should be it own reward, and what we learned for reading our scriptures or attending church should be it’s own reward. And when I was about to hit 75% attendance at YW, I started going to a friends ward, so it wouldn’t count toward the plastic thingie. I purposely sabotaged their reward system, because I just felt like it sucked. If attending church and giving service was not reward enough, then something was wrong with attending church, or maybe the service was the wrong kind of service. Maybe we should babysit so the young mother can take a nap rather than do something for the church, and it felt like they were turning us into Pharisees, counting how many steps we took on the Sabbath.
So, thank you for explaining that I just quit playing their game because I felt like their game was wrong headed. It was a game, not real Christlike behavior.
It seems to me that gathering data can be useful in certain situations, even within the Church. For example, in our stake, we did an in-depth look at our gospel doctrine classes in all our wards, just attending and observing, for months. I think you could sum up what we found in one word: relevance. The classes were not relevant to lived lives and the issues that our members were facing in their lives (and they were often really boring as well). From what we learned and analyzed, we were able to implement changes that I think have made the classes much better, more relevant and less boring. Another example: at the beginning of the Pandemic, when many people in our stake were unable to work, we had an immense increase in the need for funds from which we could provide financial assistance within our stake. We put out the word, and were able to see a wonderful spirit of giving come across our stake, and we were able to provide for all the needs that arose. It was inspiring to see that happen, even as we watched the financial numbers. We have from time-to-time used blind surveys to gather information from people (including those who do not attend), and we have acted on those surveys.
I think that numbers and data CAN be a simple (but not defining) tool as you try to see what is happening, and make things better. David Ostler’s amazing and important book Bridges: Ministering to Those Who Question (2019) was based on some data gathering that he did among a wide swath of church members and former members. I think there are many instances of “numbers” being used in inappropriate and even abusive ways in the church. But let’s not forget that there is a place for data that can really make things better in the right hands and with the right intentions.
My read of the Christ of the NT is that he couldn’t be bothered with any sort of TPS report. But boy oh boy does the church care.
Elisa, I think a survey would be great. I can still recall in fall of 2018 I got a survey from the institutional Church and filled it out. That was at the height of my “faith crisis” so I was brutally honest. I actually was invited to take part in a live session in my local area in SoCal about a month later but had to decline due to being on a work assignment out of town. I really wished I could have taken part in that session.
I still remember the days when the goal was always 100% home teaching, and I remember sitting in EQ many times where we patted ourselves on the back for achieving this goal, all the while wondering how many people lied to get us there (I for one was shocked a few times they mentioned we achieved this goal since nobody had visited me that month). Then we moved away from home teaching to ministering, which is a terrible no good silly name. While I like the concept of ministering, what I quickly learned is that most people cannot function without clear direction, so ministering is a joke. Once I realized the church wasn’t going to tell me how to minister, I asked my EQP for the birthdays of the people I minister and I send them a nothing bundt cake (TM) on their birthday, say hi to them when I see them, and otherwise just leave them alone. No idea if I’m succeeding for failing but who doesn’t want a piece of cake on their birthday right?
Otherwise again I agree with Elisa that connection to God and each other is all I’m looking for. But since that’s not what the church is currently offering, we are at odds. Which is why I don’t attend much.
In my 20s and 30s I HATED setting goals, all as a result of my missionary experience with goal setting. I’ve come back around in some ways, but my approach to goals is very different than what I was taught in Church.
FOF, I’m interested to know what you did to make gospel doctrine more relevant to people’s lives. Relevance is the church’s biggest problem (and there are a number of them) in my opinion.
I have read the OP and the comments and have been thinking about what has written previously. Quantifying activity can be useful if used wisely, if it used to get us to thinking about what is really important. Much of what makes the church function is in the intangibles, that which cannot be measured except in the lives that are touched and in the ways that my life has been touched and hopefully, the lives that I have touched.
your food allergy: First of all, I am sure we just made some incremental progress, and did not solve all of the many problems that exist with gospel doctrine, correlated materials, etc.! But we did what we could, and I would like to think things are better.
We encouraged wards to upgrade their teachers to vibrant, bright, thinking and interesting people who had teaching skills (rather than old- school people who just droned on with the same tired old stories and attitude). We encouraged teachers to find relevant principles from the materials and just have a discussion about those, rather than trying to “cover” material (like trying to get through all of a Come Follow Me scripture block or whatever)(and we banned the reading of lengthy blocks of scripture, lengthy blocks of conference talks, and lengthy boring videos). We asked teachers to try to understand what is going on in the lives of their ward members, and gear the discussion/discourse toward those things (so that discussions can touch on things that really matter: family relationships. loving those who are different from us, keeping peace in a crazy world). Our teachers are always being reminded of relevance! We outlawed lecturing, and encourage open discussions where people felt safe to speak their mind. We don’t tolerate any discussion of politics–instead focusing on the Savior, how to love each other, and positive gospel living (I think this has been totally successful– you hear nothing of politics, Trump, etc. in our classes anymore, and people just don’t go there anymore). Things are better, but it takes relentless encouragement and training of new teachers to keep things moving forward (the old culture is strong, and often travels into our stake with those who move in and fall back into the old ways).
I work in analytics for a large healthcare organization that considers itself “data-driven.” One of our current pain points in patient satisfaction (which is directly tied to reimbursement) is the question “How likely are you to recommend [system] to friends and family members?” This is a hard metric to move, because even if we do everything right in every patient interaction, a number of factors (difficulty parking, for example) can push the ‘likelihood to recommend’ index down. And yet, it is the gold-standard measure of success because a positive answer very strongly suggests retention of the patient. It’s a measure of loyalty, not necessarily satisfaction. Interestingly, likelihood to recommend is positively correlated with care compliance and negatively correlated with future Emergency Department visits and inpatient admissions. Loyal patients are more engaged patients and healthier patients.
And yet, I can imagine how such a measurement would get bungled at church: How likely are you to recommend The Church to your family and friends? Actually, we acknowledge that’s very complicated to interpret, so instead, why don’t you tell us how many missionary referrals you’ve provided in the last year. And let’s set a goal as a stake/ward that we increase the number of names we give to the missionaries, say 2 referrals per year per household? And let’s ask you for those names in your tithing settlement/temple recommend interviews. Now we’ve created a measurement system (loyalty test) that itself may decrease engagement and spiritual “health.”
I also wanted to comment on the idea of “leveling up” in the church. It’s hard for me to hear the phrase “covenant path” and not see those milestones as essentially leveling up. Some leveling up happens very passively (Aaronic priesthood advancement), while others take quite a lot of work (mission). Sometimes the milestones are too far apart so we create our own levels (the Personal Progress program of my youth). Sometimes we’ve created our own levels that have very little to do with the Church game on face (Eagle Scout, anyone?) but still mean *things.*. But we don’t, as a church, have a great answer, or a great reason for folks to keep playing the game, when some of those levels are not just going to happen (temple marriage, major leadership calling). Unless you happen to win the Personal Circumstances Lottery, there is no more leveling up at church, which is a big problem when the first 30 years of life has been built around leveling up. Not that I think we need more levels. I really, really don’t. Really. This thing between God and me, it’s not a game, it’s a relationship. And it’s really good right now. I don’t need to take it to the next “level” anytime soon 🙂
“I am able to have a much more real and meaningful relationship with God now that I’m not trying to earn points/blessings – aporetic1. Amen.
If I had to analogize the current Church as a game, I’d say it best resembles Calvinball. The star players are also the referees and they are making up the rules as we play.
Leadership has never appealed to me. I did when I was asked to (and even felt flattered), but didn’t always *get* it. The leadership positions that stressed me out least were being a counselor. Once I thought being Personal Progress points keeper would be something I was up to, that would work with some complex life situations, then I found out I had to be executive producer of Young Women in Excellence night – yikes! It did not go unnoticed by a few that my spouse did the bulk of it – it turned out great!
At some point an analogy of church leadership, **especially people aspiring to leadership**, seemed to fit: the opening scene of Tom Sawyer, where Aunt Polly is after Tom to get the fence whitewashed. He grudgingly gets started, because he can’t find a way to dodge the chore anymore. Some kids come by and mock him being saddled with whitewashing Aunt Polly’s fence. He plays at enjoying whitewashing the fence. Pretty soon he has a cadre of neighbor kids offering him the treasures in their pockets for the privilege of whitewashing Aunt Polly’s fence.
I am aware that my analogy is on the cynical side, and I am happy to report that I know some dedicated church l members in local positions who use their positions to sincerely help others. I am aware of the sacrifices they, and their families, make in the process. I don’t feel cynical toward them, and am glad for the examples they set, and for those who are better off from their service.
(My apologies to anyone who is sensitive to the language used in Tom Sawyer. I recently read a Black parent’s angst at their child being asked to read the book in school, because it contains the N-word in context. I have not read the book for many years, but recall finding value in understanding a culture far removed from my own time and experiences. I don’t think it glorified the segregated society, so much as illustrated it. I could be wrong, and am happy to learn others’ understanding.)
Self described in the title.
The LDS /Mormon church is a game,, and only a game.
Christ would not participate and would not acknowledge the COJCOLDSS
I had to laugh at Sasso’s comparison of church to Tom Sawyer white washing Aunt Polly’s fence. “Cleaning the chapel is a great spiritual experience for the whole family.” So, come scrub toilets while your children run screaming (unsupervised because you are in the men’s room) through the chapel and play with the sacrament trays. Yup, sounds right. Great spiritual experience.
I’ve heard absolutely horrible stories of the pressure and tactics imposed on missionaries to “meet their numbers”. Fortunately, I was never subjected to that nor was I expected to pester missionaries who reported to me. Maybe because my Midwest mission averaged three baptisms per missionary for their whole mission, so it was never a numbers game. We reported our proselyting hours, discussions, and baptisms through the mail (well baptism warranted a phone call because we were flippin’ excited).
I once filled in for the ward mission leader at ward counsel when the stake president was conducting (ward conference). He went around the circle asking each counsel member for their “measurable outcomes” for the year and how they would improve them. So everybody was trying to make something up on the spot. When it was the YM president’s turn, he just said something like, “My objective is to know each young man well enough that I can find the best way that I can support them in life and in their individual spiritual journey. I will not make up some measurable outcome – it would get in the way of doing my calling.” My hero. He had also been the YM president several years back when two of my sons were under his charge – he was awesome, going out of the way to connect with each young man as best he could.
One of my best church experiences was sacrament meeting at Primary Children’s Hospital. Patients (who were up for it), family members, and staff attended. We were in our civilian clothes, pajamas, hospital gowns, lab coats, and scrubs. The U of U student wards rotated officiating in blessing and passing the sacrament. A brief talk (a parent would be asked the week before to speak) and then testimonies – every time. No sermonizing, no lessons, no shaming, no prodding.
Over the course of two years, I slept at the hospital for 9 months as my sons had their cancer treatments. I can’t express how much those services meant to me and sustained me. There were no points to be earned, no goals to achieve, and no one to impress. Religion undefiled.
Of course, we were all united by the common goal to never have to be there again. But still, I wish that every Sunday service could be more like that.
I find it significant that every person I know who has had a faith crisis (Fowler Stage 4 is painful) has described church activity as a game. I believe such a realization is a POSITIVE step in our spiritual development. It is good for one to pull back the curtains and reveal who is really pulling the levers on some of our behaviors. Because when one sorts out what one does as part of the game (manufactured by others) from actions which arise from intrinsic motivation (things you do which you know are right) you have separated “the game” from the truly revelatory and spiritual. Such discernment is vital! Even the most domineering of leaders, Brigham Young declared “I am not a stereotyped Latter-day Saint and do not believe in the doctrine… Away with stereotyped ‘Mormons’!” All good religion (and love) flows from what is within. It is unique to each person. Going through the motions solely because a leader said so is frequently a flawed way to connect with the Divine.
“Tom Sawyer racism.” Sasso
Mark Twain wrote satire which always offends someone.
Life is struggle. My privileged life is such a struggle, that has improved since I emancipated from the transactional hamster wheel. We are living in a corporate age, in corporate space, a thin veneer under which the realities of existence are largely the same as ever. This OP lays out the problems of that so clearly, and that’s reflected in the comments. Well done, hawk.
I’m usually turned off by people quoting scripture in their comments, as a mallet to dominate the conversation, but Counselor proved the exception to that “rule” by likening one scripture to his own experience, and also did illuminate my struggle rather than condemn it. The corporate intent to assign measurable goals will disconnect us from the purity of the gospel, because it’s looking beyond the mark. Of course!
Several commenters mentioned connections to God and community. I read that as the application of the first and second great commandments in the non-corporate gospel given by the Savior, and it’s a yearning at least as much as commandments.
I do think there’s a place for administrators tasked with leading and governing, to assess numbers and look at trends, I even think that a measure of correlation can help leadership and governance, but. But… how far gone are we with the runaway phariseeism? Their hearts are so far from us; OUR hearts are so far from us. My life has improved since I quit the corporate hamster wheel at church and embraced the natural messy-entropy hamster wheel of my life. Both will ultimately fail, but only one allows me to connect with my own heart.
In this week’s mail, I received the first copy of what looks like a subscription to LDS Living magazine, in my name. It says “Platinum Rewards” between the bar codes and the mailing address. What a riot. I’ve leveled up to platinum! I have no idea who sent it or how it was generated. Maybe a past acquaintance is thinking of me on their hamster wheel, or maybe my info is harvested into some new experiment in connection within the bowels of the COB. I do recognize it as a kind of effort to connect me (properly) Back To the Fold, but it ain’t working because it isn’t any longer what I think is being connected. It’s already forgotten, at the bottom of my read pile, destined for a purge.
Again, this is a stellar blog post and comments, worth another read, worth a spot in my virtual magazine file. Thx guys.
As a longtime member of the church who has finally stepped out of the game, I have observed that some people seem to need those numbers. It gives them a sense of security and control. Unfortunately, playing this game has long term detrimental consequences, like any addiction. In my 50+ years, I have seen many members who suffer from depression, scrupulosity, OCD, ulcers, chronic fatigue, and fractured families. I will admit that the causes of the symptoms can be complicated, but seeking solace in numbers and temple attendance obfuscates any solution to these problems. My husband and I have always been outliers at church and being introverts, life on the hamster wheel has never appealed to us. Our son said that as a youth he often wondered why his Dad was never made a bishop. The answer is simple. We just couldn’t play the game.
“Do you think Church members who refuse to play for points have a better or worse experience?”
In my experience, refusing to play for points leaves one on the outside looking in. The game of church works for those who have conformed their world view and view of themselves to the current dominant “gospel” narrative. In their minds, their social, familial, financial, and career networks all line up with the “mission of the church,” and their success in those areas is directly tied to “doing the small and simple things” and not asking too many questions. Call it the Prosperity Gospel if you want. Those who won’t or can’t conform to the rules of the game (eg. they were born gay, not white or poor, or simply have “doubts”) are not invited to play. You might ask what rational, socially aware individual would want to play such a game? I don’t know. It’s kind of hard to leave when it’s the only game one has ever known and the people closest are still active participants. Solitaire is fun for awhile, but it gets lonely.