I have a confession: I don’t much care about what the people in my ward think about me. I feel guilty about this. I wouldn’t want to go too far with my confession. It is tru that I probably don’t want my bishop to think that I am a sinner or an apostate. I certainly don’t have any particular agendas or feats of personal integrity that my fearless individualism allows me to pursue free from fear of social consequences. It is just that by and large, the opinions of most of the people in my ward about me or my life choices don’t matter to me all that much.
Part of this is that I am really bad at remembering names and faces. In our six years of marriage, my wife and I have moved eight times. As a result, we have been in many different wards, and it takes me a while to get to know everyone and fit in. It is hard to worry about the opinions of those that we do not know. I suspect that a larger part of my disregard comes from simple pride and arrogance. Finally, the largest reason that I don’t much care is that I am not all that good at picking up cues about people’s opinions, and I suspect that most people in my ward rather than maintaining a high or low opinion of me maintain no opinion at all.
My guilt over this state of affairs, however, comes from the fact that I believe that I ought to care more about what people think about me. As a member of the church, I am part of a community, and it seems to me that meaningful allegiance to a community requires a decent respect for its opinions. If we really are brothers and sisters in the gospel, fellow citizens in the household of God, then I ought to care about what the members of my ward think about me. I care about what my parents or my sisters think of me. Their regard is something of great value to me because it necessarily informs the nature of my relationship with them. It is not that I think that my family will cease to love me or associate with me when I do things that they disapprove of. I don’t worry about this. I trust them and their love. Rather, their regard or lack of it will necessarily create an issue between us. It seems to me that it is not possible to form a community, let alone meaningful relationships of love and charity, without in some sense making your ease or contentment contingent on the opinion of others.
Many people legitimately complain of feeling judged by those in the church. I have certainly seen rather vicious examples of this in the lives of friends and loved ones. Yet it seems to me that there is a real tragedy in not living with the risk of such hurt. There is an alienation and isolation that comes from not caring about the opinions of others that carries its own measure of loss.
Nate: How does one reconcile caring about others opinions in the face of vocal advocation that so many decisions (when to marry, # of kids, who works where, etc.) an individual/couple makes shouldn’t be commented upon by others; esp. in the “ward” family? I suspect your post is your answer to a somewhat similar question, but I admit curiousity.
Nate, if it makes you feel better, your constant obsession re: your Bloggernacle reputation more than compensates for your failure to care for your local neighbors’ opinions.
*grin*
I try and figure out who the next Bishopric might be. I try and piss off as many plausible Bishopric candidates as possible in subtle little ways. Then I know that any callings that come are the result of inspiration instead of desperation or relation.
Seriously, the social situation in the ward can have a big influence on callings which do eat up much of our time and energy.
Nate, maybe there’s some law of conservation of worry about others’ opinions at work: you worry too little, I worry enough for 3 or 4 guys like you :)
Here and I thought your position would be: “I don’t care what they think about me, as long as they recognize that I am, indeed, cool.”
I have thought about the same general subject in a few ways:
First, there is caring about what people actually think versus caring about what people ought to think. I have to admit to being indifferent to the subjective content of my neighbor’s expectations or evaluations of me. Who is neighbor X anyway? He can keep his little judgments to himself! It’s just a mote, buddy. My eye will be ok. But I do care about the hypothetical neighbor whose demands on me as a neighbor are fair, whose expectations are not unreasonable and evaluations not uncharitable. I suppose that comes from reflecting on the commandment to honor one’s parents. What does that mean to someone whose parent is generally evil?
There is also caring about what people who disapprove think and caring about what people who we hope to impress think. In my experience, even those who care little about their neighbor’s moral judgments find it irresistable to seek to establish their superiority in some way in their neighbor’s eyes. Indeed, not caring about what the neighbors think may itself be a way of establishing one’s superiority.
alamojag: Don’t get me wrong. If people think I am cool, I like it ;->
Lyle: I am not sure what the right answer to your question is. On one hand, I think that by and large things would probably work a bit better if some members of the church were to ratchet back their judgments of others a bit. On the other hand, it seems to me that to simply ignore the opinions of others or to insist on a world in which others have cannot legitimately have opinions that we ought to care about in some sense dimnishes the possiblity of community.
I don’t know if caring about people has to be at all equivalent with caring about what they think about you. I’m just thinking about it is all.
Shawn: There is much to commend your “reasonable neighbor” standard. Here is the problem that I see with it. The reasonable neighbor — like his Holmsian cousin the reasonable man — is an imaginary person. It seems to me that part of the reason that we should be concerned with the opnions of others is not simply that those opinions might happen to correspond to correct norms, but that concern for the opinions of others is part of what knits a community together. It is part of what makes a “me” into an “us.” The problem is that I don’t want an “us” that consists of me and the “reasonable neighbor.” I want an “us” that consists of me and the actual human beings that I interact with in the church.
Reflecting further, I think I recall a GC talk in which a GA talked about seeking the approval of men. It struck me as interesting that there was not an outright condemnation. Instead, if I remember correctly, there was an acknowledgment that the approval of good people was a noble goal, just not the noblest.
1. I try to act the way I think I should. If I live up to my own standards, I don’t worry about what other people think I should be doing, etc.
2. I still remember my father’s FHE lesson on “the benefit of the doubt” that he gave when I was about 10 years old. It really struck a cord in me. And the boy who cried wolf didn’t care what other people thought at one point, but one day it mattered.
3. The impression people have of you not only affects how they treat you, but how they treat your family. Of course I should care what my children’s teachers and school think of me as a parent.
Ultimately, # 2 & #3 don’t make #1 a problem and vice versa. Because I actually am the person I try to portray….or at least, I try to be.
Nate (no. 9):
Of course, I have never tried to home teach the reasonable neighbor construct that helps me cope with people when they deviate from what they ought to think about me! I see that the community problem ultimately requires me to truly care about the expectations of real, embodied, problem-riddled people.
I think that charity on both ends is the key to the question you raise. That feels a little like a cop out to me (since I understand charity only a little in in the way that really matters), but I don’t think it is. My construct is charitable in the sense that it leads me to assume that my neighbor’s expectations and evaluations of me will be fair. And when my fully embodied neighbor falls short, it requires charity of me. I should be able to say: “hey neighbor X, I am not delighted that you are obsessed with the mote in my eye. But I love you, baby. My agape for you runneth over. Chilling with you in this community of saints is worth coping with your judgmental bs.” Or even “what you have mistaken for a mote is actually one of my finer points, neighbor X. A gift from God himself. But since it gets under your skin so much, I will keep quiet about it while you are around. Just to make you feel good. Because it’s all about community, and I like your company.”
Putting together different thoughts this post has arroused, it just occurred to me that the commandment to honor parents could mean more than honoring a hypothetical reasonable and righteous parent. It could mean a duty regardless of merit, like charity. In other words, even if your parent is a loser, you must find a way to honor him, not just what a construct of what you wish that parent was. This seems to depart from my understanding of old testament law—it looks like a “higher law.” The tie between this and Nate’s post, as I see it, is the problem raised by placing other people’s expectations (a parent’s or neighbors’ in zion) at the center of an obligation. In the context of this post, even if your neighbor’s judgment is stupid or unfair, you ought to care and seek that neighbor’s well-being.
Nate,
I believe that there are two parts to caring what others think/feel/believe about us that come together in charity.
1. We each must become autonomous to develop fully. We learn in the Church to find for ourselves what is true then incorporate it and act upon it. It’s dangerous and immature to depend upon some other person to guide our lives. Even finding and following the promptings of the Spirit are personal choices that each of us must make. In the sense of letting others’ opinions or feelings determine who we are, what we believe, or what we do, we must have the strength to stand on our own. We cannot have joy if we do not have our own choice.
2. However, I’ve learned that our loves shared with others are the surest sources of joy. (Someday I may relate the dark path I took to learn this and how love from others and from God saved me). If we fail to love others, we deny ourselves and them the joys that we could have enjoyed.
We have in our HP Group a member that is independent to the point that he challenges and questions lessons to the point that we don’t have lessons. He acts independently, without regard for what others think or feel. It is better to be independent than to accept dependently/blindly all that’s said. However, my roommate wrestled with a call to teach the Group because of this member’s self-centered sniping. I have more patience with him because I hear echos of my old calls for attention in his actions… and because I wasn’t asked to teach.
Charity, or service, is love in action and when we seek ways to build the happiness of others, we increase their and our joy. I’m finding that, once strong enough myself, choosing to concern my actions with others’ happiness results in the greatest peace in my heart. We see this pattern in many places: “when thou art converted, strenghen thy brethren,” “seek first to obtain my word, and then…,” go to the temple first for yourself, hence for others.
This is why I’ve enjoyed a good relationship with my girl friend (odd title for someone our age, could some linguist provide a neologism for us?) for the last 5+ years. We’ve spoken of how we don’t need each other and that each of us would be fine without our relationship. Each of us is an independent person that chooses to give our strengths and gifts to our relationship for the betterment of both. We don’t keep score of deposits and withdrawals. We each just give what we have and enjoy the entirety of our combined bounty.
I’ve noticed that many people say they give service, but expect to be paid, like the ward project to clear weeds from an inactive family’s yard — some people were angry that the family didn’t come to meetings the next day. I suppose they wanted to be “Ensign”-article-eligible. This isn’t charity, it’s employent. It’s very a very light yoke indeed to give serve from love, without expecting or needing a payback. Love of the other person is rewarded by the improvement you cause in the other’s life.
Some of this is founded in a comment by Covey in “7 Habits:”
“As an interdependent person, I have the opportunity to share myslef deeply, meaningfully, with others, and I have access to the vast resources and potential of other human beings.”
So, your guilt over what
(# 14 sent before completion!)
Nate,
I believe that there are two parts to caring what others think/feel/believe about us that come together in charity.
1. We each must become autonomous to develop fully. We learn in the Church to find for ourselves what is true then incorporate it and act upon it. It’s dangerous and immature to depend upon some other person to guide our lives. Even finding and following the promptings of the Spirit are personal choices that each of us must make. In the sense of letting others’ opinions or feelings determine who we are, what we believe, or what we do, we must have the strength to stand on our own. We cannot have joy if we do not have our own choice.
2. However, I’ve learned that our loves shared with others are the surest sources of joy. (Someday I may relate the dark path I took to learn this and how love from others and from God saved me). If we fail to love others, we deny ourselves and them the joys that we could have enjoyed.
We have in our HP Group a member that is independent to the point that he challenges and questions lessons to the point that we don’t have lessons. He acts independently, without regard for what others think or feel. It is better to be independent than to accept dependently/blindly all that’s said. However, my roommate wrestled with a call to teach the Group because of this member’s self-centered sniping. I have more patience with him because I hear echos of my old calls for attention in his actions… and because I wasn’t asked to teach.
Charity, or service, is love in action and when we seek ways to build the happiness of others, we increase their and our joy. I’m finding that, once strong enough myself, choosing to concern my actions with others’ happiness results in the greatest peace in my heart. We see this pattern in many places: “when thou art converted, strenghen thy brethren,” “seek first to obtain my word, and then…,” go to the temple first for yourself, hence for others.
This is why I’ve enjoyed a good relationship with my girl friend (odd title for someone our age, could some linguist provide a neologism for us?) for the last 5+ years. We’ve spoken of how we don’t need each other and that each of us would be fine without our relationship. Each of us is an independent person that chooses to give our strengths and gifts to our relationship for the betterment of both. We don’t keep score of deposits and withdrawals. We each just give what we have and enjoy the entirety of our combined bounty. She also blesses me with some very frank corrections when she sees a need. I usually choose to listen and incorporate them, but this is my choice and not dependence. As you noted with your family, her comments are based upon care for me, an understanding of where I want to go in life, and widsom I lack that she’s gained and is willing to share.
I’ve noticed that many people say they give service, but expect to be paid, like the ward project to clear weeds from an inactive family’s yard – some people were angry that the family didn’t come to meetings the next day. I suppose they wanted to be “Ensign”-article-eligible. This isn’t charity, it’s employent. It’s very a very light yoke indeed to give serve from love, without expecting or needing a payback. Love of the other person is rewarded by the improvement you cause in the other’s life.
Some of this is founded in a comment by Covey:
“As an interdependent person, I have the opportunity to share myslef deeply, meaningfully, with others, and I have access to the vast resources and potential of other human beings.
“Interdependence is a choice only independent people can make. Dependent people cannot choose to become interdependent. They don’t have the character to do it; they don’t own enough of themselves.” — “7 Habits” p. 51
So, your guilt about your feelings about others’ opinions may be justified if it’s from indifference or isolation, but not a problem if it’s to maintain the autonomy to choose to act well and have peace.
I think there is much wisdom in Manaen’s last comment, but unwisdom too. Its true that we do too many supposed acts of service out of self-regard, but I don’t see how one could really love someone and not want them to respond to you. Love is needy. God *condescends* to love us, because by loving us it means he needs us, which means he is in some sense dependent on creatures such as ourselves.
Adam,
I see a difference between wanting and needing someone to respond to you. Of course, I want people to like me and I’m happier when they do. However, I’m trying to develop the selfless love for others that rejoices in lifting the hands that hang down and in strengthening the feeble knees regardless of whether they return some benefit to me. When I give food or money to a beggar at the off-ramp, I don’t need his love, I’m just grateful that I was able to help.
Charity, the pure love of Christ, seeketh not her own, but gives selflessly to benefit others. I do not believe that Jesus needed our love or admiration for the atonement that He worked for all of us; he asked forgiveness for others while they were killing him. I believe that our Heavenly Father so loved the world that he gave us Christ’s atonement, without needing payback from us. If they needed love from us and there are many of us that do not give it, then we cause them to lack something that they need. I do not believe this is true.
I’m sure they grieve for each of us that doesn’t love them. But, they survive and have fulness of joy without it. A bishop of mine had a great marriage, house full of kids, and a successful business. Then cancer killed him at age 47. HIs wife was devastated but shouldered on with her children and other responsibilities. After some years, she re-married. We all could see how her life was brightened through her marriage to our bishop, but she didn’t need it; she got through his loss — the pain of which was exquisite.
This is what I meant in my comment about how my girl friend and I don’t need each other. I do thank God every day in prayers for her and the joys I’ve found with and through her. We have missed talking to each other only a handful of days in the past years, even when living hundreds of miles apart. To lose her would be a much heavier loss than I care to ponder. Yet, I would survive and, after much time spent healing, move on.
My experience in repentance is that once filled with God’s love, there is no felt need to collect payment for service to others. As Lehi in his dream, you just want to share God’s love with others. I believe this is an indicator of a converted soul. Jos. Smith said, “A man filled with the love of God, is not content with blessing his family alone, but ranges through the whole world, anxious to bless the whole human race.” This without thought of wages owed.
This is one of the other reasons that I look forward to the Celestial kingdom. Aside from fellowship with the Father, with the Mother, and with the Son, I want the society of all those people that love so well that their occupation is to help each other selflessly without seeking their own. I try to imagine what it would be like in a society of only those kind of people, where you never would have to watch your back or wonder about hidden motives. I believe that what most qualifies somenone for that place is to become that kind of person; if you use the atonement to become someone that fits in that society, Christ pays for the evil choices you made along the way and the Father welcomes you home.
We all want joy. We all want love, which is why we are tempted to look for a return of love in what we do. In what I used to believe was a throw-away line in Lehi’s dream, the key is given: God’s love is “the most joyous to the soul.” I’ve noticed people that have an inner peace, that have quiet joy in helping others. I believe it’s because they’ve found the joy of God’s love, learned to trust that it’s an endless supply, and thus being sure of their own sufficiency go about sharing it without concern over whether another person will give them what they need.
I only care what God thinks about me and a distant second (almost null) about what my wife thinks about me. I believe in (and try hard to) love thy neighbor and all that, but I really don’t care what my neighbor, ward, or co-workers *think* about me. Perhaps this is a hold-out, or leftover, from being quite the nerd in H.S., but it suits me for my present situation.
Nate, you should care more (and the rest of us too!). Let me illustrate.
In the samurai world there was a word called “seken” that referred to the world of honor and approval that all samurai worth their salt internalized. This imagined community — probably not much different than the chorus in Greek tragedies (or forbid, one’s elder’s quorum) — was with them wherever they went. To whatever degree the samurai didn’t feel the gaze of his “peers” emanating from the cranium it probably meant he was out of the loop, divested of a stake in the community. A samurai in 13th-century Japan left this bit of advice to his sons about staying in the game:
“Never drink sake, even a single jar, alone. Whenever you have any sake,
you should invite all friends of your own status who are able to attend, and
have them drink the sake with you…” So have you had anyone over for
a Coke lately?
I have been in the church 8 years. I have no LDS friends (except my bride). I really don’t care what is thought of me.
Or as a wise person once put it: What other people think of me is none of my business.
there were many times in my life where i did things i felt like i ought to do and ultimately and each time i left feeling either completely unsatisfied or like a victim. it seems like to find joy in our actions they must come from active choice. each time i say to myself, “i ought to do this or that”, i catch myself and rephrase it to, “i choose to do this or that”. sometimes after doing this, i decide i really don’t want to do the thing i’ve been considering and choose not to do it. either way, i feel like this empowers me and the situation as a whole.
while this may be pretty elementary, it has worked well for me.
after reading your post, nate, it seems like what you are seeking is more connectedness than anything else. my husband finds himself in a similar situation. in his case, he is pretty much uninspired by our ward–i know that sounds awful and haughty but it’s true. he just hasn’t found any people he “connects” with and since he tends to be a solitary type anyway, he finds, with his life as busy as it is anyway, no real desire to seek out community within the ward. don’t get me wrong, he is pleasant and gives great, well-received lessons but he also feels a type of isolation.
from my standpoint, in some ways it seems that this reflects more about him than it does the community. i think it would be beneficial for him to reach beyond his love of discussing ideas and being challenged intellectually, and to see an opportunity to learn from others. i’d love for him to take some lessons from the mechanic in the ward :) basically, i feel like we find what we are reflected back to us through community and that can be helpful.
perhaps this example isn’t relevant to your particular situation, nate, but i hope if nothing else you will decide to either choose to care or accept that you really don’t care and stop feeling guilty :)
peace,
paloma
#17,
I think we’re using ‘need,’ differently. You say that God doesn’t ‘need’ our love because (1) he won’t cease to exist without it and (2) he doesn’t condition his love on our returning it. I agree with both points 1 and 2.
However, I still say God ‘needs’ our love because I don’t think he ever gets over it when we refuse to give it. Yes, he has a fulness of joy because he has all the joy that is possible to have. But he never ceases to feel the loss. Although us mortals can get over loss, I don’t think thats a feature of the eternal world. I hope not.
Epictetus, the great Stoic roman philosopher, wrote about this in his work “The Enchiridion”. (at least 3 public domain translations are online).
The Apostle Paul spoke some against Stoics, but they do have a few things in common with Christianity.
You can’t control the thoughts of others, only your own. A basic tenet of Stoicism is that you shouldn’t worry about what you can’t control.
I’m also a bit confused about Nate’s original post. Is he more concerned about the _accuracy_ of others’ thoughts, or the _content_ of others’ thoughts about him?
As long as others think correct things about us, why worry? If others don’t think anything (good or bad) of us because they just don’t have information about us, why assume you have a responsibility to inform others about you?
Does Nate want them to have accurate information, or to be informed of only his good qualities?
Nate: suggestion: go google “Enchiridion” and read it, and if you agree with it, it will solve your anxiety in this matter.
I found The Enchiridion to be a good thing because it helped me put some Gospel principles in everyday language, and put the Gospel to use in everyday applications. Worry about yourself, and what you can control about yourself, and don’t try to control others. The only good way to influence is by our actions, and by controlled and righteous words.
Stoicism is about not worrying that others can control you. You are in control of the essence of you, your mind and your spirit. And no matter what others do or say, you control how you will react. You choose your reactions. You can’t choose or control others’ thoughts, words, deeds.
Adam, #22:
I agree with the two points you list. However, I prefer “want” to “need” for them. I’m sure that God continues to feel the loss. In my own life, I’ve found joy through the atonement and through love now, but I alienated my children in the past. It’s been several years since I’ve since I saw some of them and I grieve this loss every day. To my surprise, I found that you can have great joy and grief simultaneously. Except for the guilt, I believe this is what God feels.
GreenEggz, #23:
Thx for the reference to “The Enchiridion.” Daniel K. Judd compared and contrasted both Stoicism and Gnosticism with the gospel in his talk, “The Great Plan of Happiness.” KBYU will rebroadcast it on 8/4 at 6am and 8/23 at 6pm. Audio is available at: http://byubroadcasting.org\edweek\2002\asx\Judd.asx. Transcript isn’t available.
“To my surprise, I found that you can have great joy and grief simultaneously.”
Yes. Wouldn’t want it otherwise. The Balm of Gilead surpasses the waters of Lethe.
Correcting #24 “…compared both Stoicism and EPICURIANISM with the gospel…” starts at 0:36:00.
Everybody seems to be making something deep and profound of this whole “I really don’t care what they think of me,” but seriously, isn’t it just a guy thing?
i don’t know that i was trying to make anything deep and profound in response to nate’s comments. i was just trying to give my experience and thoughts on the matter.
your comment seems a bit dismissive.
heather,
No, it’s not just a guy thing. Living your life based on what others can or should think of you is just plain wrong, for men or women. “Doing the right thing” is/should be the goal of life. Then good and honest people will naturally have a favorable opinion of you. People aren’t perfect, therefore their perceptions and opinions are imperfect. Other people’s opinions should never be the rule or measure of how we conduct ourselves or how we judge ourselves. Jesus said we should let our light shine, but he also said don’t do things just to be seen doing it (ie, to influence their opinions of us.) The scriptures exhort us to do the right thing no matter what the unbelievers or mockers say or think.
Peer pressure, even in the church, can be bad/good, positive/negative. No one should go along with things just to be popular or to fit in, or to not make waves, or to not offend others. Oftentimes doing the right thing does offend people, even in the church. Oftentimes, the mediocre go-with-the-flow mormons mock those who try to do the right things.
If living up to others’ opinions causes you to _raise_ your standards, and _improve_ your walk, then fine. Then the next step would be to do the right thing for the right reason, and not just based on what others think. But most often, trying to please the majority (even in the church) and live to their expections leads to mediocrity. Remember, the _majority_ of members are _inactive_. And the majority of active members don’t do all we’re suppsed to do. Going along with the majority and their opinions (for no other reason than they are the majority) is generally a bad thing.