Mormon Studies

Saying Grace with Adam Miller

/ Jason M. Brown / Leave a comment

A short review of Adam Miller’s excellent book Original Grace: An Experiment in Restoration Thinking.

Prelude

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS) seems to have a grace problem. Like almost all Christian denominations in North America and Europe, the LDS Church has struggled in recent years to retain young people and progressives. Though the LDS Church’s support for conservative social issues will continue to be a point of tension for many, LDS philosopher Adam Miller’s Original Grace is an attempt to experiment with “Restoration Thinking” in order to affirm a core Christian doctrine to LDS spiritual practice: Grace. His research question: What happens when Justice and Grace are not seen as oppositional? His hypothesis: It changes everything.

Raised in the LDS church, but leaving in my late 20s, I have had my eye on Miller’s Zen-infused prose for a while. This is because Miller has wrestled with one of the issues that led me away from LDS practice and toward a more contemplative expression of Christianity. As an LDS person there was a grace-shaped hole in my life that I didn’t even know was there, but after suffering through deep depression during my mission years, mostly because of my own feelings of unworthiness, grace found me, and I began to believe that my status as a creature of God came before my actions or behaviors. In his boldly titled Future Mormon (2016), Miller’s essay ‘A General Theory of Grace’ simply states: “Grace is Original.” In this short review, I want to commend Adam Miller for his book length elaboration on that sentence and raise some questions for his ongoing experiment with a doctrine that has yet to find a comfortable place at the table of LDS spiritual practice.

Miller’s Radical Justice

Original Grace is a touching tribute to Miller’s late father, a disciple of Christ whose strongest theological proof of God’s existence was the self-giving love he felt all around him. For Miller, his father taught him that Justice and Mercy were always on the same team.

Central to Adam Miller’s claim is that the doctrine of Original Sin, a doctrine that the LDS church has negated since its ‘13 Articles of Faith’ were published in 1842, has nonetheless tainted the way LDS people live their understanding of the Gospel.

Despite LDS religious culture’s rejection of the austere Calvinist doctrine of “total depravity”, and its dismissal of Sola Fide (faith alone) soteriology, faithful LDS have nevertheless absorbed the idea that true justice justifies, at least in theory, the necessity of punishment for sin. That falling short of the Gospel merits our feelings of guilt and shame and that only by redoubling our efforts to be righteous will we come to our salvation.

LDS have often seen justice as a kind of divinely anointed karma: They, along with some other Christian lineages, intuitively believe the proposition that humans suffer because we deserve it. The Old Testament’s admonition of an eye for an eye is often described as a bridle for vengeance within a proportional tit for tat. The Hebrew imagination saw justice as restoring right relation among peoples, castes, land and God, and this certainly included God’s punishment of Israel’s enemies or those who strayed from Torah. Diseases, plagues and natural disasters were often interpreted as God’s justice playing out in the world (See 1 Chronicles 21:14).

Miller doesn’t negate the goodness of the law, but with LDS Apostle Dallin H. Oaks claims that Christ offers a better way. Miller asserts that this better way is to align justice with grace by returning not only good for good but also good for evil. This is a play taken directly from Jesus of Nazareth’s Sermon on the Mount. For Miller, in a Christian cosmos, suffering can never be deserved, only learned from and wrestled with.

Miller shares that as a missionary he constantly fought feelings of inadequacy and unworthiness. That is until he picked up Stephen Robinson’s 1992 Believing Christ. Robinson diagnoses the problem in his own spouse, who after working hard to be the perfect LDS woman collapses into a pile of defeat and despair. She accepted that her efforts would never be enough to merit the full measure of LDS salvation. Robinson takes the whole of the church to task on her behalf for refusing to believe that Christ means what he says and did what he did.

Robinson’s theory of the atonement is not so much of substitution, Jesus suffers on our behalf, but of being saved “after all you can do” (See 2 Nephi 25:23). To illustrate this Robinson shares ‘The Parable of the Bicycle’ wherein a little girl scrimps and saves for a bicycle for weeks, but still falls short, even after all her hard work. The loving father steps in and pays the rest. Grace, after all we can do.

Miller lauds Robinson’s first step, but argues that this “after thought” or “backup plan” soteriology still does not fully grasp the radical claim grace has upon us. When grace and justice are aligned, they ask not what we deserve, but what we need. Sin in this understanding is not a law broken, but grace rejected. Miller writes, “The problem isn’t that God is unwilling to offer the grace I need. The problem is that I’m unwilling to receive the grace God is giving” (14).  

LDS tend to think that salvation is the highest reward for living a righteous life, rather than seeing righteousness as the fruit of our embrace of the saving (salving) love of God. The commonly quoted LDS scripture Doctrine and Covenants section 82 reads: “I, the Lord, am bound when ye do what I say” is an underlying motivation for an LDS version of the prosperity Gospel, an esoteric incantation that extracts blessings from a God of justice. It is Max Weber’s Protestant Work Ethic liberated from Calvin’s total depravity. Strange bed fellows indeed.

Miller admonishes LDS that salvation is better sought and understood as a present-tense reality. “A shared life lived in Christ’s presence is the end. It is salvation” (20). Christian virtues like charity are what grace looks like in human clothing, not what Christians do to impress God, whose grace is the very air we breathe (37-38). He writes, “If we take Jesus’s Sermon on the Mount as our guide, the logic of justice is the logic of grace” (37). Thus, no instance of a karmic approach to justice in scripture can dissuade Miller from seeing justice as an expression of how to arrive at what human beings need rather than what we deserve. The Bible is not after all a story of justice executed judiciously in each case, it is a story about a thousand broken promises met by a God who loves us as a nursing child at his breast.

Grace and Nature

Perhaps because the book is tailored to a general audience, and went through the editing filters of Deseret Book, the LDS publishing house, I found myself wanting Adam to weave in threads of the “Traditional Christianity” he is partly polemicizing against. I found the lack of historical context for Original Sin or Grace for that matter a weakness of the initial chapters, even if the book is aimed to keep folks from slogging through the theological mud. In addition, I found that his work of aligning justice with grace was more successful than his case against Original Sin. A brief discussion of what I mean.  

First, a bit of background on the doctrine of Original Sin: This core doctrine is found at the heart of all Christian communions: Oriental Orthodox, Eastern Orthodox, Roman Catholic, Anglican, Lutheran, Calvinist, Anabaptist, Pentecostal and Evangelical. The theology claims that our mortality entails a proclivity to sin by nature.

This theology is primarily absorbed from the second account of Adam and Even in the Garden found in Genesis 3, wherein eating of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil results in the couple being expelled from the Garden of Eden. However, the doctrine also draws from the poetry of Psalm 51 where the poet writes, “Behold, I was shapen in iniquity; and in sin did my mother conceive me” (KJV). In the letter of Paul to the Romans (Ch. 5), he claims that if death came to humanity through one person (Adam), salvation most certainly could as well (Jesus).

However, Original Sin does not appear in Jewish theology. It was Saint Augustine of Hippo (354–430) an early Church Father who really solidified the doctrine. Augustine had a sudden and unexpected conversion to Christianity at the age of 31. His own riotous past convinced him that human beings are utterly dependent on God’s grace.

Miller’s only mention of non-Mormon theology is his mention of the theology of John Calvin, the 16th century French reformer whose understanding of faith meant that unlike the sacramental approach of the Catholic and Orthodox communions, no rite, ritual or sacrament was effective in ensuring our salvation. Not even an act of faith could save us. Our natures are totally depraved of the good, we are utterly and completely dependent on God’s grace. Our election is only made known to us through our desires to live a Christian life, or through the fruits of that life. The Westminster Confession, the current articles of faith of the American Presbyterians, continues to affirm that humans are: “Wholly defiled in all the parts and faculties of soul and body.” [1] Original Sin indeed. Interestingly, the Catechism of the Catholic Church reads:

“It is a sin which will be transmitted by propagation to all mankind, that is, by the transmission of a human nature deprived of original holiness and justice. And that is why original sin is called “sin” only in an analogical sense: it is a sin ‘contracted’ and not ‘committed’—a state and not an act.”[2]

In other words, human nature is wounded, but not totally depraved. The notion of an LDS human nature (which tends to be more optimistic) is never fully resolved by Miller who writes:

Christ’s atonement directly addresses a problem internal to my own nature as a sinner, not a problem internal to God’s nature. He bridges a gap caused by my rebellion against justice and grace, not a gap between God’s justice and God’s grace (59).

In all Christian readings, even LDS, my nature as a sinner comes through contraction, I have inherited my nature as a sinner. LDS do not appear to believe that our nature as sinners goes all the way back into the LDS pre-existence. Another option is that sin comes into the world only when we chose to sin. There is no pre-existing conditions, only a long string of spiritual lifestyle choices that our natures are vulnerable to slipping into.

When Miller says that his nature is as a sinner, he seems to be implying then that our sinful nature is contracted through our humanity and understood through the myth of Adam and Eve as the parents of our humanity. While this theory of sin feeds the logic of karmic justice Miller critiques, it is also at the center of his theology of grace, which does not presume to merit God’s grace, only strives to be a receptive vessel for it.

The LDS Church’s Palagian Problem

This leads to another bit of historical context. The rejection of Original Sin in the Christian tradition has tended to be by those who embrace the idea that we can earn our salvation. For example, Pelagius (c. 355 – c. 420 AD) a British monk, asserted that Original Sin did not taint our nature because our nature was synonymous with being, and being is sacred. Pelagius was one of the early Christians who demanded strict moral obedience for all Christians, especially priests. Pelagius’s view was quite popular in the 5th century, before Augustine’s Original Sin rose to the status of dogma. His notion of free will (free agency) suggested that God would not command us to be perfect (Matthew 5:48) if it were not possible. And God didn’t create anyone to be evil, this was a Manichean (dualist, gnostic) doctrine. However, after a public run in with Augustine, Pelagius’s ideas were condemned primarily at the councils of Carthage between 411–418 CE.  

Miller’s challenge going forward is that Mormonism’s rejection of Original Sin is in my view primarily a Palagian move. This is evidenced, not just in many LDS’ embrace of the Prosperity Gospel, but in the persistence of certain folk theologies that come from Joseph Smith Jr.’s later revelations. For example, Miller uses the word “Creation” in the book but does not clarify whether he also rejects the Ex Nihilio (out of nothing) Creation of “traditional Christianity”. LDS tend to talk about creation as an activity of organization overseen by a certain Celestial precinct’s God, in earth’s case Jesus Christ out of existing matter. Many LDS believe that our pre-mortal selves participated in that organization, a beautiful thought for some, but also a move that steals something of the grace at the heart of what it means to be a Creature. These two rejections: Ex Nihilo and Original Sin seem to leave the possibility of embracing grace less likely. Rather, embracing the strong contingency of my existence that ex nihilo creation asserts, and my nature as a sinner that original sin canonizes, leaves me prone to the radical beauty of God’s grace. 

Other Braids in the Estuary of Grace

Before I conclude, I would like to point readers to several other worthy explorations of grace-centered Christianity which flow in the same direction as Miller’s.

1)    The Franciscan Alternative Orthodoxy

The Franciscan Order, founded in 1209, has since the writings of Duns Scotus (1265/66-1308), asserted a minority position on the Incarnation (the doctrine that God took on a human form/nature). Since Scotus, Franciscans have asserted that rather than a ransom, or substitutionary approach to salvation, which is predicated on the inevitability of sin, Franciscans assert that Incarnation has been part of God’s plan from the beginning. Contemporary Franciscan teacher Richard Rohr likes to say that God becomes what he saves, and the Incarnation was not just a single event in Jesus of Nazareth, but an ongoing event from the beginning (See John 1).

2) Matthew Fox’s Original Blessing

In 1997, Dominican Friar Matthew Fox wrote a book entitled Original Blessing. His book proves that Roman Catholicism has just as deep a wound related to Original Sin as the LDS Church. The book got him excommunicated by Cardinal Ratzinger. In the book, Fox emphasizes the many affirmations of the goodness of creation in Genesis 1 that preceded the sin of Adam and Eve that saw them exiled from the garden. While I don’t find Fox’s scholarship all that impressive or well-disciplined, his assertion that the interpretation of Original Sin needs a complete overhaul, was well received with progressive Christians, especially those interested in ecological theology.

3)    The Neo-Celtic Christianity of John Phillip Newell

A former pastor in the Church of Scotland, John Phillip Newell has sought to amplify the teachings of the Church in the British Isles before the Roman standardizations of the 6th century. While he calls his Christianity Celtic, it is more accurately classified as a kind of Neo-Celtic Christianity, which infuses pre-Roman Christianity with contemporary concern for equality, spirituality, feminism and environmental stewardship. Newell negates the Virgin birth and believes that Creation was not effected out of nothing, but out of God.  He boldly claims that holding an infant is the best argument against the doctrine of Original Sin, a doctrine that he simplistically explains as primarily about imperial control and oppression of the masses. For Newell, Original Sin is psychologically damaging and makes up the core wound of Western Civilization, which leads to so much shame and self-loathing.

Conclusion

There are perhaps many more examples, but these writers sketch out the basic topography of the Christian interlocutors that Miller is in conversation with. Each of them emphasizes the primacy of grace as a bewildering gift, not a post mortal rewards package. I commend the razor-sharp prose of Adam Miller’s excellent book. Any discussion of grace is a balm to the common affliction of shame and guilt that justice-oriented approaches to religion too often take. And as Miller says, the LDS Restoration it isn’t finished.

[1] See Ch. 6, https://www.pcaac.org/bco/westminster-confession/

[2] Catechism of the Catholic Church, #404 https://www.catholicculture.org/culture/library/catechism/cat_view.cfm?recnum=624

The Beehive and the Steel Mill: Rethinking the Protestant Work Ethic

/ Jason M. Brown / Leave a comment

First published in the Mormon Worker Journal (~2008). Online at: https://themormonworkerdotnet.wordpress.com/past-issues/mw-issue-5/the-beehive-and-the-steel-mill-rethinking-the-protestant-work-ethic/

Mormon Cooperatives were common in the 19th century

In Mormon culture the beehive is a symbol of industriousness that embodies the work ethic as not only a temporal duty, but as proof of divine sanction. In Mormon cosmology, the final dispensation ushered in by Joseph Smith unleashed a spirit upon the earth which has inspired all of the advances of the past two centuries including the industrial revolution. Interestingly, this narrative purports that advances in technology are a sign of blessedness that has facilitated the betterment of human kind and the extraordinary growth of the Mormon Church. Technology is therefore at worst neutral and any negative consequences can be easily ascribed to human selfishness and misused agency.

The danger of this narrative is that in its praise of technology and economic progress as an organic-unraveling of God’s divine will for this last dispensation, it ignores the gross inequalities of the economic system which undergirds it (capitalism), and more importantly for this article, the ecological consequences that have followed. This set of assumptions tends to overshadow the elements of Mormon theology which could form the basis of a transformative social and ecological movement within the Church. Indeed, capitalism’s axiom of infinite material growth seems to fit nicely within the cosmological concept of infinite (individual) progression. When the advance of capitalist institutions and technology guided by its needs are assumed part of a divine plan, there is little room for constructive criticism of the negative consequences which may follow from technological and economic progress. What strikes me as ironic is that the sphere from which our inspiration for hard work is drawn, the natural world, is imperiled by the economic system which has become the dominant expression of the so-called protestant work ethic. Because capitalism and industrialism continue to wreak havoc on the earth and her inhabitants (including of course people) a new industrial paradigm and work ethic must be constructed that will not simply equate righteousness with productivity and technological progress, but with how well these fit into the boundaries set by ecological systems and meet human needs.

In this short article, I would like to lay out in basic terms my interpretation of Mormon assumptions about the work ethic as it relates to our cosmological ideas about technology. The thesis is fairly simple: Mormon theology will never be able to fully challenge structures of social inequality and ecological destruction unless traditional narratives which equate material progress with eternal progress are reevaluated and rearticulated in ways that clarify the role of technology and work in our lives, and more importantly the role of nature in our cosmology. This is then, an initial exploration, which will require additional thought and depth in the future, it is a first attempt to articulate a new work ethic that values hard work in a way that not only re-embeds humans in the natural world, but strives for technological achievement along the lines of harmony and mimicry of nature as opposed to domination, exploitation, and destruction.

The De-secration of Nature and the Spirit of Capitalism The origins of contemporary capitalism and the so-called “Protestant Work Ethic” are too complex and lengthy to relate in such a small article, but I would like to highlight two relevant ideas that were seminal to the flourishing of a capitalist society. The first has to do with the radical shift in humanity’s attitudes toward the natural world and perceived alienation from it. As Christianity took center stage in the struggle for spiritual dominance of the old world, it embarked on a war with all things “Pagan.” Paganism and indigenous traditions represent diverse cosmologies that place humans within the web of spiritual nature, rather than outside of it. Many Pagan practices were viewed by the orthodoxy of the age as idolatrous and diabolical, and countless lives were lost in witch hunts and the burning of sacred groves. The foundation for industrial capitalism’s view of nature as a “resource” instead of sacred community, began with this desecration (literally to make unsacred), of the natural world. God was a transcendent being, apart from the earth which was his creation, made for the benefit of his children. The earth was a fallen and corrupt place that many early Christians hoped to transcend and leave behind after this life. An earth divested of spirit becomes nothing more than a building block for a chosen people to realize its God given dominion over the earth.

Another important idea that contributed to the development of capitalism was the restructuring of society around the production of goods. This required a new work ethic based on the schedule of the factory, and a shift toward the accumulation of wealth. While there are many theories and complex histories about the origin and consequences of Western capitalism, one that emerged from early sociology and anthropology was proposed by Max Weber. In his controversial and important work The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism, Max Weber fleshes out a theory for the economic and political development of the industrial age. With the emergence of industrial capitalism in Europe, the accumulation of wealth for wealth’s sake became not only a possibility, but a virtue. The shift from mercantilism to full blown capitalism made use of existing technologies, but rearranged the social structure of the old world in favor of a system that stratified society in order to unleash massive amounts of productivity in the form of manufactured goods. This spirit of capitalism is paralleled by reformation Puritanism whose emphasis on the calling abandons Catholic monastic transcendence for a moral obligation to fulfill ones worldly duties (Weber, 1976). Predestination as preached by Calvin made the doing of one’s religious duties an imperative ‘sign’ of God’s favor. The emergence of Protestantism saw a dramatic shift in spiritual attitudes toward merit, works, and sacred duty, as wealth became a sign of God’s favor as well.

The Desert Blossoms as a Rose: Colonial Utah and the Value of Work After Mormon converts had been driven from several frontier settlements, they left the United States for the relative isolation of the Great Basin, then a part of Mexico. To the prophet Brigham Young, the rugged and desiccated land was a blank canvass upon which a righteous people could begin to weave the tapestry of a Zion society, one of perfect equity and cooperation, preparing the earth for the coming of Christ. The original name given to the territory was Deseret, a word taken from the Book of Mormon which means beehive, which is today the state emblem of Utah. To Brigham Young, the honey bee represented industry, and in his vision for the fledgling colony, he saw self-sufficient farm communities that would produce goods in great abundance.

We are all familiar with the adage in the Old Testament that a righteous people will make the desert “blossom as a rose,” (Isaiah 35:1) and we have all heard the stories, visited the monuments, and seen the plaques dedicated to the pioneers who, upon arrival in the valley immediately set about rearranging the landscape to fit their European agricultural way of life, despite the stark difference in climate and topography. Settlers began digging irrigation ditches and planting grain within hours of arrival in Utah Valley. The saints were to prepare the earth for the coming of Christ, and in early colonial Utah, there was no meaningless labor. Within a few years, after many hardships, Mormon settlements were bustling with commerce, industry and agriculture.

Early on in Utah history, there were many difficulties, Indian raids, late frosts, and pestilences. The story of the miracle of the sea gulls is one of many that hold great meaning for the Mormon people. On June 9th 1848, as the saints clung to life, a swarm of crickets (Anabrus simplex) began devouring their crops. The farmers fought back with everything they could, brooms, fire, shovels. They prayed for relief from the threat of starvation should they lose the years harvest. Soon they saw a flock of sea gulls in the distance, which began to gorge themselves on the ravenous crickets, vomiting and then coming back for more. To settlers, the sea gulls were proof of divine protection by God of his chosen people and their way of life. To a subsistence agricultural colony, the crickets took on a demonic character in their challenge to God’s people. Interestingly, if you had asked the Native Americans at the time what they thought of the little black insects, they may have seen them as a boon, a reliable source of protein which required little or no work to harvest and equal proof of God’s blessings.


Industriousness and Technology in Mormon Doctrine

With regard to the building of Zion, Brigham Young stated “if we are to build the kingdom of God, or establish Zion upon the earth, we have to labor with our hands, plan with our minds, and devise ways and means to accomplish that object” (JD 3:51). Another interesting statement made by Brigham Young was that “…The angels that now walk in their golden streets, and they have the tree of life within their paradise, had to obtain that gold and put it there. When we have streets paved with gold, we will have placed them there ourselves. When we enjoy a Zion in its beauty and glory, it will be when we have built it” (JD 8:354-355). Brigham Young here expresses a unique Mormon millennial tradition, one that posits that we are not passive receptacles of Gods grace, but active participants in our own salvation, and even in the second coming of Christ and the millennium.

In contemporary Mormon discourse, hard work continues to be praised as a virtue (missionary program, the success of the BYU business school), and technology a boon. Mormon theologian Robert Millet has written, “In short, the Spirit of God—meaning the Light of Christ—has been behind the rapid intellectual, scientific, and technological developments from the time of the Industrial Revolution to our own Information Age. Joseph Smith presides over our age of enlightenment and expansion” (Millet, 1994). What this idea ignores is that the economic system which brings about these technologies is based on hierarchy and exploitation and it has had massively negative consequences on the earth. In contrast I am suggesting that we judge our society and economic system by a broader and more holistic moral standard that includes social and ecological values.

The Beehive and the Steel Mill For over 30 years, the Geneva Steel plant was a prominent site in the Utah Valley sky line. Built during the Second World War to supply steel for the American military, Utah was chosen to avoid possible coastal attacks by the Japanese. It officially opened its doors in 1944 as a US government owned plant, and began producing products for the war, namely structural parts for ships and plate steel. The steel mill was a defining symbol of an industrial economy in the 20th century, and it was hailed as a welcome and glorious achievement by the local working class. To be a steel worker in those days was a wonderful opportunity which would provide a good living for a family.

But the relative prosperity it brought came at a price. The greatest flaw of the industrial project is that it is one big externalizing machine, meaning, it is very good at creating products and profits, but not so good at accounting for the costs associated with such productivity such as air and water pollution, community, spiritual values, deforestation, and biodiversity loss. As one economist put it: “the polluter is able to internalize most of the benefits of the pollution while only bearing a portion of the costs” (Hatch, 1989). Within a few generations, the environmental effects of Geneva Steel were being felt by local residents of Utah Valley. Wetlands that used to border the entire lake were cleared and filled to make way for the developments that the industrial boom had brought with it and Utah Lake, which borders the plant, tested for unhealthy levels of PCBs and other pollutants. Fish and birds were routinely found dead near the plant, and air quality and visibility was significantly impaired.

In the 1980s small particulates called PM 10 (smaller that 10 micro meters) were beginning to receive more and more attention for their negative health effects. Small particulates come from sulfur, nitrogen produced by refineries, steel mills, and power plants. Unlike larger particulates, the body has a hard time ejecting small particulates as they move past the body’s natural defenses and lodge in the lungs alveoli. In 1978 Utah County was identified by the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) as a non-compliance zone, and was required to create a plan for particulate reduction. But, because of thermal inversion and the Wasatch mountain range, during winter months, air pollution was essentially being trapped in the valley, causing serious respiratory problems to local residents and an increase in health costs (Hatch, 1989). The main producer of particulates in the area was Geneva Steel which in 1988 accounted for more that 53% of particulates in the county (Hatch, 1989).

The steel mill stands as but one example of what I would call bad stewardship: namely any technology designed to manipulate the natural world that creates enormous amounts of waste while consuming vast quantities of energy. The steel mill stands at the center of a modern industrial economy, and is therefore included as part of the blessedness of which my previous examples have spoken. What is not incorporated into the theological discussion is the very real ecological and health consequences of steel mills and a myriad other industrial technologies. I would hope that an enlightened view of technology would not simply value the productivity and sophistication of a given technology, but its affect on society, human health, and creation. That stewardship, not industriousness would be the superior value.

In stark contrast to the steel mill, stands the honey bee (Apis mellifera), which like many insects and birds has co-evolved with a number of plants and trees to form a mutualistic relationship—meaning both organisms benefit from each other. Many plants have have bright colors, ultraviolet patterns and rewards of nectar to attract pollinating insects. The honey bee converts this pollen and nectar into honey which sustains the young bee broods and the colony through winter. These types of mutualistic relationships are abundantly found in the natural world, which is a perfect metaphor for what a truly stewardship-oriented work ethic might strive to emulate. One which forms mutualistic or symbiotic and regenerative relationships with the industrial activities around it, as opposed to the parasitic ones that seem to be all too common in the current industrial sector. It is a work ethic that I hope humanity will take seriously and emulate in designing future technology and industry.

Toward a New Work Ethic and Standard for Technology

The Christian concept of Stewardship holds if we are humble about our interaction with the planet we inhabit. A steward is not someone who takes the care of the earth into his or her own hands, but one who is constantly learning the language of nature, and attempting to make human activity as benign and symbiotic in her processes as possible. A truly sacred economy would be restrained and imagined within the limits of nature and value not simply the parts but the whole. Indeed the Permaculture ethics of care for the earth, care for people, and reinvesting all surplus (profit) back into these ethics seems an ideal way to think about progress and productivity. Not measuring it solely in dollars, but in quality of life, biodiversity, health of entire systems, and dare I say it, happiness.

An exciting and emerging field that is taking these ideas seriously is that of Industrial Ecology, which attempts to account for industrial processes and flows of energy and materials by creating symbiotic relationships within several types of production. Thus, the industrial process does not have to be abandoned, but the wastes created must either be eliminated or uses must be found for them by other industrial activities. The Kalundborg industrial park, located in Denmark, is the most famous example of industrial ecology in action; here an oil refinery, a power plant and a pharmaceutical manufacturer, harvest and conserve waste heat and use the byproducts of production to make plasterboard. Along similar lines, Biomimicry looks at natural technologies such as spiders’ webbing, which is even stronger than steel yet is produced at room temperature with no toxic inputs or byproducts. Urban ecologists are also beginning to look at cities as ecosystems, and managing them as such. Recently, the city of Los Angeles under the leadership of Tree People (www.treepeople.org) began planting thousands of trees on city streets and schools and working with city officials to saturate rain water into the ground instead of letting it drain into storm drains and from there the ocean, saving the city millions of dollars.

As Latter-day Saints, we cannot continue to attach industrial production to our work ethic and our cosmology. It is in stark contrast to our obligation as Earth Stewards. Instead, we must look to natural systems not simply as symbolic metaphors of a harmonious industrial society, but as models for production, parameters for our economic activity and the bedrock of our values.

References:

Arrington, Leonard J.; Feramorz Y. Fox; Dean L May Building the City of God: Community and Cooperation among the Mormons Deseret Book Company, Salt Lake City, Utah, 1976. Hatch, Nile W. Hospital inpatient Respiratory Health Costs Due to Air Pollution in Utah County, Department of Economics BYU, 1989.

Millet, Robert L. ‘Joseph Among Prophets’ Ensign, Jun 1994, 19.

Pope, C. Arden ‘Respiratory Disease Associated with Community Air Pollution and a Steel Mill, Utah Valley’ American Journal of Public Health, Vol. 79, No. 5 May 1989.

Uchtdorf, Dieter F. ‘A Matter of a Few Degrees’ Ensign, May 2008 57-60.

Weber, Max The Protestant work ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism George Allen & Unwin, London 1976.

Widstoe, John A. (ed.) Discourses of Brigham Young: Second President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints Bookcraft, Salt Lake City, Utah 1998.