Alternatively, this post could be titled “The Arguments from Religious Experience.” (But a catchy title gets more attention.) This follows my post from two weeks ago, “Science and Spirituality,” with somewhat more focused thoughts this time. I’m using points from Chapter 3 of Philosophy of Religion: A Very Short Introduction (OUP, 2018) by Tim Bayne, a philosophy prof in Australia. The chapter first discusses the cosmological argument for the existence of God (there is a Universe, it must have been created and there must be a Creator, who is God) and the teleological argument or argument from design (features of living bodies or features of the material Universe indicate conscious design, hence there must be a Designer, who is God). The argument from religious experience is much more straightforward.
From a philosophy of religion standpoint, the question is the existence or non-existence of God, which is how the argument is analyzed by Bayne. In Mormon discourse, the existence of God is largely assumed — sometimes with nods in the direction of design or the cosmological argument — and appeals to religious experience are made not to establish God’s existence but to establish the truth of LDS Church claims or, in LDS parlance, to establish a testimony. I’ll talk about both angles below. Both questions seem relevant.
Here’s a surprising claim.
Religious experiences are common. A recent survey of Americans found that nearly half of all respondents (49 percent) claimed to have had a “moment of sudden religious insight or awakening.” … [E]ven 30 percent of respondents with no religious affiliation claimed to have had religious experiences. (p. 44)
Right off the bat that tips us off to a significant problem. Religious experiences that seem to put a person in touch with some sort of religious reality are, in a sense, too frequent or too common. If they only happened when a person was in deep prayer asking if God exists, that would be more convenient. If they can come when observing a moving painting or watching an engaging movie or just taking a stroll through the hills, it seems harder to tie that experience to the conclusion “so God exists.” In the Mormon context, if an investigator reads the Book of Mormon, then rather than engage in sincere prayer instead takes a stroll in the hills and then is struck by an overpowering “sense of perceived vastness” (a term from my previous post) or has a sudden religious insight, again it seems hard to tie that experience to the conclusion “so the Book of Mormon is true” or “so the Church is true.” No doubt an LDS missionary would make that claim when the investigator recites his experience at their next meeting, but that’s the whole point of this discussion. Is the argument from religious experience valid?
Religious Experience Is Not Perception
One set of problems with the argument is that the common practice of framing religious experience as similar or equivalent to standard perception is not valid. If you see a black SUV parked across the street, that visual perception is pretty good evidence that’s the case. If you are walking out the door and hear the words “Hey, pick up some tomatoes while you’re at the store,” that auditory perception is pretty good evidence your spouse is communicating directly with you. If you have a religious experience (and remember, that is a very common thing) it’s not clear at all what that corresponds to.
Even if you grant that the experience is a clear perception of an internal state of mind or emotion, it’s not on a par with perceiving that black SUV across the street. You might perceive “wow, I am having a deeply moving religious experience,” but nothing about that experience or context ties directly to the conclusions “so God exists” or “so the Church is true” or “so I must change my life.”
Another problem with the analogy between standard perception and religious experience is that perception is fairly well calibrated to observe a variety of changeable characteristics. That’s what gives perception its traction in forming conclusions about the world. You could see a red or a blue or a yellow SUV parked across the street. Or a dump truck or a big yellow front end loader or a helicopter. It’s not at all clear religious experience has this wide range of possible states. If every religious experience amounts to “wow, I’m having a deeply moving religious experience,” it’s hard to connect that to some particular conclusion about God or your favorite church.
In the LDS context, consider the several scriptural passages where this or that prophet sees with their “spiritual eyes.” Or the references to Book of Mormon witnesses saying they saw the plates with their “spiritual eyes.” What does that even mean? The phrase seeks to borrow reliability by linking what is described to standard perceptual vision, seeing with actual eyes. But it’s not actual vision (seeing with your natural eyes). The reference seems to be more to a vision (again borrowing credibility from natural sight) or dreaming or simple imagination. Is it fair to summarize the use of the term like this? Seeing with “spiritual eyes” is not standard visual perception using your natural eyes and is therefore not perception. It is not viewing an object or person as we commonly use the term. It’s something else, some sort of visual manifestation created by your brain akin to what is experienced in dreaming or imagination.
If It Is Perception, What Are You Perceiving?
Even allowing that religious experience is akin to standard perception, what are you perceiving? One problem here is that we have a pretty good awareness of when standard perception is reliable and when it is questionable. If it is dark out when you glance across the street, your sense of the color of the SUV across the street may not be reliable. If it is also raining, and you just woke up, and your distracting alarm is still going off, your perception of what’s across the street when you briefly look out the window is even more questionable. Can we make the same distinctions for religious experience? The author notes:
[W]e have no corresponding capacity to distinguish contexts in which religious experience are likely to be untrustworthy, for we don’t know what conditions affect the reliability of religious experience. (p. 49)
For example, you probably think that being under the influence of drugs or being physically or mentally exhausted would compromise the reliability of some of your standard perceptions. As it is often phrased, you might see things that aren’t really there. Do those states also compromise the reliability of religious experience? Does lengthy fasting (no food, no water) and its attendant dehydration and low blood sugar improve one’s capacity for reliable religious experience or prayer response, or render those experiences questionable? Does the use of entheogens in various religions enhance or compromise the reliability of associated religious experiences?
Another problem that arises even if we accept religious experience as akin to perception is the challenge of religious pluralism. Religious experience appears across all religions, but the details differ from religion to religion and are sometimes in direct conflict. What to make of this? Do you accept them all as veridical, then what do you do with the conflicts? Do you accept only those religious experiences within your own religion, church, or denomination, which is hard to defend? Do you simply ignore those religious experiences that don’t conform to your denomination’s preferences? Do you reject all religious experience out of hand? None of those options seem particularly defensible.
On the Other Hand …
Those are important issues, but let’s take a step back. There are relatively few people who accept the existence of God because of the cosmological argument. Instead, people just grow up with or land upon such a belief, and if they feel a desire to support that view or rationalize their belief, they may later start to think in terms of Creation or design as a basis or support for that belief. By the same measure, my sense is that a lot of Mormons accept the Church not because they followed the protocols of Moroni’s Promise laid out for them by LDS missionaries or as taught in the LDS youth program. Instead, Mormons just grow up with the conviction the Church is true or, for an adult convert, they read a bit, attend church a few times, meet a few ward members, and say, “Nice people. Nice lessons and discussion. I feel good here. Yes, I will continue to attend.” Moroni’s Promise of a prayer confirmation shapes the narrative people tell. It doesn’t necessarily describe the process that people actually go through or the reasons that people develop a commitment to the Church.
As opposed to the aspects of the argument from religious experience noted in the earlier discussion (and find the book if you want a more detailed review of the arguments pros and cons), I think most believers rely on a rather simpler form of religious experience. They may have their own deeply moving religious experience that they interpret in terms of their existing beliefs and practices and denominational affiliation. In a more general sense, if they go to a church and like the music, the sermon, and the people, they think “good feels, I like it here, I’ll come back next week.” Opposite vibes and they’ll go find another megachurch or denomination to attend. My Catholic neighbors did the same thing when they moved to town. They visited three or four local Catholic churches on Sunday and then attended the one they liked.
In the LDS Church, of course, you can’t easily go ward shopping. The good feels versus bad feels happens with the ward you are assigned to. If you have bad feels, the choice is to bag it for a few years, maybe until you move to another town. Or you just stick it out, dutifully attending and serving even if you don’t particularly like the talks or the people or the music or the building or the parking. This might sound a bit too utilitarian, but there’s another way to look at it. To the critic who, for various reasons, questions your attendance despite social or moral or epistemic concerns or issues that you might even candidly acknowledge, one can reply, “Hey I get good feels from attending my church on Sunday. Why shouldn’t I continue to attend? Truth, schmuth, it seems good for me and good for my family. Go deal with your own problems. I’m doing just fine.”
Okay, long post, thanks for reading. What do you think?
- Is religious experience that many people have and rely on for supporting their religious beliefs and practices much like perception, basically reliable?
- Are religious experiences or positive prayer responses sufficient for stout religious conviction (Mormonspeak: having a testimony)? Are they necessary but not sufficient, so that a person needs to read scriptures and reason their way to rational belief as well? Or are they not reliable, perhaps distracting or misleading, and people should avoid reliance on religious experience and instead focus on rational understanding as a basis for religious conviction and commitment?
- If you deem religious experience to be reliable as a guide to belief and behavior, how do you deal with religious pluralism? Have you ever had a friendly conversation about religious experience with a Catholic, an Evangelical, a Muslim, or a Buddhist? What do you make of their general or specific experiences that they interpret in terms of their own religious tradition?
- Feel free to reference your own deeply moving religious experience(s). Be aware, of course, that others may not share your interpretation or even the essential nature of your experience. On the other hand, it may resonate deeply with other readers who have had a similar experience.
- The title to this post is “emotional testimony.” How does one distinguish a deeply moving religious experience from a simple emotional response to a situation or event?
- Is anyone else more or less tone deaf to religious experiences in the general sense we are talking about?
Wheat & Tares 
I’ve often wondered about the chicken and egg question when it comes to religious experience: is a person “religious” because of religious experience or do “religious” people have a tendency towards more religious experiences? I used to believe in the former but now I tend to believe the latter.
What I mean is that I think people get what they are looking for in a kind of self-fulfilling phenomena. If I want spiritual experiences I’ll probably find a way to have one. If I find my lost keys after praying to find them, I’ll attribute that to the power of prayer. If I want to believe something is true, I’m more likely to do so. A full-time missionary really wants to have a testimony so he or she talks themself into it. Same with all the Young Women at girls’ camp. We can makes ourselves believe almost anything. I don’t mean to insult those of you who believe you have a testimony of the Church.
Religious experiences to me seem unreliable. However I’m reluctant to reject them outright for some of the reasons you outline; that they aren’t defined enough in either direction.
I had a deeply moving experience when I received my patriarchal blessing at 16. Now, later in life, I have much more context around that experience but I still can’t really explain specifically what caused my month long spiritual euphoria- but even so I’m convinced that it has a scientific explanation and so I discount it. The missionaries and my ABM wife are frustrated that I won’t accept what they consider to be a religious experience as religious, especially since I once did.
On the other hand a very rational, adult Sikh friend of mine claims to have seen a monk float in the air while they were meditating deeply. While skeptical that the monk defied the laws of physics, I think they both experienced *something*. I don’t know what to say other than “it’s complicated” and that I should respect others’ perceptions.
I used to say: “I’m so hungry I could bear my testimony.” And I do believe a lot of the crying on Sunday is low blood sugar. But I have had several experiences that are beyond explanation and they are nothing I have “perceived” in terms of seeing or hearing something.
I think it is interesting that these experiences are common. To me that’s another “check” for proof that God exists. The God I believe in loves us all and is trying to reach us all, all the time. That’s what that says to me. He is trying to make connection with him a common experience.
Why the Sun appeared to revolve around the Earth was beyond explanation for centuries. That an experience or an event appears to be beyond explanation may be because the event data was not scrutinized at the time eg a Transient Ischemic Attack, headache, metabolic disorder. Or the event was limited to subjectivity, or that the explanation has not yet been found. A woman who drowned her children in an adjacent city told police officers that the Lord had told her to do it. Sort of like Abraham but without the filter of centuries.
An important aspect of the differences between the two types of experience is repeatability.
If I get 100 random people to do the experiment of telling me the color of the car, I’m probably going to settle on a consistent answer pretty quickly.
If I ask 100 random people to do any particular religious or spiritual exercise, I suspect I’m not going to converge on a consistent answer. At the least, it will be much more variable.
Religious experiments just aren’t repeatable. You can’t expect someone else to have your experience–unless you prime them ahead of time. And there lies the key.
Your question about the (in)ability to distinguish between an emotional response and a religious experience is a crucial one; and it’s one that Mormonism seems ill-equipped to answer. And to be fair, perhaps we’re all ill-equipped to answer that question. One of the profound and unresolvable paradoxes concerning religion/religious experiences is how, on the one hand, such experiences are highly subjective, intensely personal, and deeply emotional and, on the other hand, such experiences are supposedly meant to (at least in the case of Mormonism) convince us of the “truth” of one religion over all others. So religious experiences are incredibly subjective, but are supposed to point us to objective truths? That’s a circle I’ve never been able to square. And I actually don’t think we’re meant to. In my own life, I believe I’ve felt what Mormons would call the Holy Ghost perhaps three times. The first time was when I was thinking about joining the Mormon Church, so after I felt that, I joined. But of course, that could have happened to me in any number of contexts. What if I’d been hanging around with Episcopalians when I felt the Holy Ghost? I’d probably be an Episcopalian now. There’s a randomness to human experience that I think many of us (particularly, perhaps, those of us with a Mormon inclination) find really uncomfortable and I get it; most of us take comfort in some sense that there’s some sort of force, divinity, whatever out there that might have a plan for us or that there might be a way to live forever, to be with loved ones, and feel happiness. That’s an incredibly compelling and seductive notion, but it’s one that, as I’ve gotten older, I care less about, in part because I’m feeling quite emotionally fulfilled these days and that’s good enough for me. Striving to be “celestial” (whatever the f that means) is just tedious and tiring; listening to Van Halen is much more exciting. And a far more deep and intense emotional experience than any sacrament meeting I’ve ever attended.
And I think that’s the answer to your other question about religious pluralism. We each have a framework of belief, religious or not, within which we try to fit meaningful emotional/spiritual experiences. That framework is due so much to where/how we grew up, the people who surround(ed) us, and also our innate, individual affinity for certain ideas and beliefs. So OF COURSE there are many religions. Despite what Mormonism teaches, a significant part of belief has to do with upbringing, socio-cultural coding, and our own evolving sense of the world and our place in it. One thing I will say, with no intent at all to offend, is I wish the religious folks who are so certain that their beliefs are the only true ones would practice a bit of humility, especially in light of the subjective nature of religious experience. I actually think that one of the most harmful things Mormonism does to its members is to insist on the absolute (only) truth of its own belief system. That does harm to members of the church who doubt and it does harm to every single interaction we may have with those who aren’t Mormons, because even if we’re self-aware and polite enough not to say to people’s face that their religion is “wrong”, we’re still judging them and considering them as less than we are because they don’t have the “truth”. This is completely antithetical to the teachings of Christ.
My religious experiences don’t confirm much about the Church. I have had promptings to be kinder. Okay, I’ve had a LOT of promptings to be kinder. I have had promptings regarding my wife and kids. I have been prompted to avoid certain people at church and dodge specific callings. I have been prompted to vote against Trump… So I registered as a Republican so I could do it more times than a non-Republican can do it in Utah. I have been prompted to go fishing. I have been prompted to read certain books. I’ve been prompted to look at people with a “soft focus” so the irrelevant and unnecessary gets blurred. I’ve been prompted to love nature and spend more times outdoors. I’ve been prompted that Jesus heals and that God loves me. I’ve been prompted to wander out of the Sunday School or EQ class and check the weather when the lesson goes off the rails. I’ve been prompted to eat breakfast on Fast Sunday so I have the energy to get through testimony meeting. I’ve been prompted to help pick up the tab for some ward parties. I’ve been prompted to pull faces at Primary kids when they look bored in Church. I’ve been prompted to bring cookies to Elder’s Quorum meeting.
So other than that, no religious experience at all!
I grew up in a very TBM home in Utah and accepted without question that we fortunate ones who had the Gift of the Holy Ghost had something that no one else had. I read a lot, and in the book series “Emily of New Moon” by Lucy Maud Montgomery (same author who wrote Anne of Green Gables), Emily has spiritual experiences. I don’t remember the exact wording, but she described a spiritual experience, and then drew NO religious messages from it. The experience was profound and helped her towards her goal of being a writer. I was so puzzled. Clearly, Emily had had a spiritual experience, yet she took it as encouragement to fulfill her secular goal of becoming an author.
Dave, I think you’re right on with this post. Lots of people have profoundly moving experiences. Then the Church rushes in to interpret it for you. “You just felt Heavenly Father telling you to obey Church leaders for the rest of your life!” Well, no, I just felt loved and accepted. The Church errs in telling people what their spiritual experiences mean. If someone wants to conclude that Heavenly Father is telling them which Church to join, then by all means do so. But don’t tell anyone else that they have to believe your interpretation of their experience.
I’ve had some profound spiritual experiences. And they don’t mean the Church is true. They mean that I have a connection to God, and I could learn from Church for many years, and now I’m on a different path. I haven’t denied my prior testimony; I’ve just reinterpreted it and realized that my spiritual experience could mean more than one truth.
Religious pluralism is great. I’m leaning towards the idea that organized religion gets in the way of real spirituality. Let people find their own connection to God, and don’t try to micro-manage it. Don’t ever let your religious beliefs infringe on someone else, but within that boundary, you do you.
I love what Janey said in her comment and echo it: “I haven’t denied my prior testimony; I’ve just reinterpreted it and realized that my spiritual experience could mean more than one truth.”
All of our perceptions – “religious” or not are subjective to interpretation. Ask a member of a truly isolated tribe in the Amazon to identify the object the we all agree is a black SUV, and you would likely get a very different answer. True, our brains do like to put things in categories, but these categories are basically social constructs. There is no ideal “Form” of SUV either “out there” or pre-programmed in our brains somewhere. This is not to quibble, only to say that the idea that we have direct access to reality as it really is (or even that it exists outside our own minds), is a very old and largely unresolved problem.
Which is why relying on religious experience as proof of the existence of God has always been the least preferred option for thinkers throughout history, particularly the medieval scholastics. Our senses can deceive us, those mystics in the monasteries are flirting heresy, but there has to be a god, gosh dang it or I’m out of a job, so we better come up with a logical argument that doesn’t rely on nebulous mystical experiences, or even scripture which can be misenterpreted. Because they relied so heavily on Aristotle, we get various versions of needing an Unmoved Mover or the First Cause in order to explain why there are many things, rather than nothing and importantly, to prevent an infinite regress.
Where Mormonism runs into major problems, is several-fold. First, we can’t claim the classical Prime Mover argument on which most arguments for God are based, because Mormon theology leads to an infinite regress of Gods and their dads. Second, we can’t rely on religious experience because as the OP points out, this can lead in a myriad of different directions away from the institution. So, even though Mormonism was founded on a personal encounter with the divine, we should question our own transcendent experiences (even more than we probably should anyway) if they don’t line up the official story. What the Church is asking members to do essentially, is base their belief in God on whether we “feel” after praying that Joseph Smith’s final version of what he thinks he experienced in the woods as a teenager is 100 percent accurate. And on that “knowledge” we’re supposed to base everything we do for our entire lives. This doesn’t seem to be a very “firm foundation.”
There’s the old tried and true test of looking at the fruits of religious experience. I’m of the opinion that we cannot receive the Holy Ghost without being transformed by it. It may not happen in a jiffy like it did for the Lamanites. Indeed, for most of us it’s a life long incremental process–and sometimes it’s so subtle that we can only detect it with a bit of hindsight. Neal A. Maxwell counseled the saints to take stock of our insights on occasion–and that by so doing we’d be able to discern that we are in fact growing in the things of the spirit. And as we witness that Christlike transformation within ourselves–however incremental–we can say as did Alma: O then, is not this real?
That being said, when we grow in the attributes of Christ we also grow in the knowledge of God. That is, by becoming like him — and in my case that process will take an eternity — we come to know him–and vice versa. And as we come to know him his presence becomes more and more recognizable until we, like Nephi, can easily discern it. Indeed, he became so familiar with the Lord’s presence that he could easily differentiate between the voice of the Father and the Son.
That (and that) being said, I’m grateful for Joseph Smith’s words of comfort: But we consider that this is a station to which no man ever arrived in a moment.
I knew somebody who saw a leprechaun.
My mother does this thing where she tries to convince me of really significant spiritual experiences by referring to Book of Mormon characters and events. She refuses to consider them as fictional. Once I asked her how many people have claimed to see God and she came back with a list of Book of Mormon prophets. When I asked her how many “real people” outside of Joseph smith claimed to see God she immediately went to the latter-day prophets until I asked her to show me the text where they ever claimed to see God. She hasn’t showed me any yet and keeps going back to scripture stories.
She is also very concerned with priesthood blessings and is always very eager to tell me about the promises the lord made in the blessings she hears. When my daughter got sick and almost died she accused me of neglect because I didn’t ask anyone to give her a blessing. She claimed I was denying my daughter the best possible chance of healing. Instead the doctors treated her condition and my daughters body healed itself and she miraculously walked away from the hospital far sooner than we anticipated. If we had given her a blessing it would have served as proof that God exists and has deep emotional involvement in our daily lives. Many people would have been touched at the fast and testimony meeting retelling of the event and a lot of commotion would have been made at how the spirit filled her hospital room and touched the hearts of everyone in attendance. But none of that happened. However, it was still a very powerful spiritual experience for me. My heart was touched as I saw the fear in her eyes and I later sat crying at the side of my bed knowing I could lose my precious little girl. My heart was touched watching her improve day after day as she struggled to regain control of her body. My heart was touched as I marveled at how incredibly resilient life is. I don’t know how i could credit my spiritual experiences to God. It would only be a guess. I have no reason to assume they come from one exalted being.
Corou,
I understand what you are saying. However, to your mother at least, your experiences won’t prove there isn’t a God. I have a suggestion for you to consider:
Walk away from thinking about whether there is a God or not. Really, you can’t prove anything and neither can your mom. When it comes down to it we all live in faith and uncertainty. Maybe there’s a God, maybe there isn’t. Maybe that isn’t the point of life.
My suggestion is that maybe the point of life is your relationship with your mother (and other people as well, but moms tend to be central). It sounds like you are doing well with her in that you are clear and direct with her about your own needs. You have been able to separate yourself and become an adult with your own personal and spiritual authority.
I suggest you consider your mother’s difficult situation. She was taught as a young mother that her life had no other purpose than to save her children by raising them to believe in God and keeping them in the church. Now that you have been clear that you don’t believe in God she probably feels her life is a failure. My suggestion would be that you find a way to communicate a different point for her to consider.
First of all you might consider asking her to stop bringing up whether there is a God. Instead tell her how much you love her and why. After reading your post I suspect with some thought you can find many non God and church related things she did beautifully in your life. When she brings up God or church, speak past that. Say how much you appreciated something she did for you as a child. Tell her you try to do those things as a parent yourself. For instance, I think you are a good kind person in general. Thank her for whatever role she may have had in that.
As Mormon mothers it’s really important that we learn to see our adult children individually and learn to appreciate their individual strengths and growth in their lives outside of any religious context. This is part of her own maturation and spiritual growth. You can help her achieve that.
And if she won’t, I want to say to you, you are doing fine. Even in a gospel context there’s eternal progression. You are on your own journey and nothing is over yet. If there’s a God, They are holding you in Their hands while you choose your path. If there isn’t you are thinking for yourself which is awesome and necessary. You are loved, cared for and fine either way…. and so is your mom. Tell her she’s going to be okay even with you not believing in God. Really this is about her feeling she isn’t okay in how she evaluates herself against the yardstick the church measures her against. It’s really hard to be a mom in the church when your kids grow up and show you reality, and you have to learn to think in a different way than you were taught.