Daily Universe, December 1992
Editor's note: This article first appeared in the Southern Shofar, a publication for Jewish people in the Southeast.
Brigham Young University, in Provo, Utah, is the university of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, more commonly known as Mormons. On Oct. 27 I gave an invited paper there on "The Metaphysics of Gender in Levinas." The next morning I led a graduate seminar discussion on the significance of family studies. In the afternoon I gave a second paper on "Derrida's (Mal) Reading of Levinas." On the 29th I gave a shorter version of the gender paper at the University of Utah, 30 minutes away in Salt Lake City.
Both public lectures at BYU were well attended. After each, insightful and penetrating questions were asked. This is because for the past two years a large inter-departmental faculty reading group has been studying and discussing the philosophical works of Emmanuel Levinas. Other scholars have spoken on Levinas at Brigham Young these past two years. My appearance was special, I think, because of my religious commitments as well as my scholarly work. It turns out that Mormon scholars are interested in both the ethical and religious dimensions of Levinas's thought.
It was an unusual treat for me to speak to an audience familiar with Levinas's writings. These Mormon scholars genuinely want to learn from this French Jewish thinker. They want to put his thought to work in their work. Theirs is not simply a quest for knowledge for the sake of knowledge. It is also an ethical and religious quest, which is precisely the original task of higher education: to build mind and character at once.
Truth mattered
What was striking about the Mormons I met, both faculty and students, was their earnestness. Here truth mattered. Truth was not a game, not even the burnt-out game of upmanship. At BYU, like many other religious seminaries, including our own yeshivas, scholarship serves life. The question is not how to make the most money, but how to live the best life. One seeks truth because it sets one free for goodness, justice, relationship with God. Unlike many other more narrow-minded seminaries, truth at BYU is pursued in the full light of modern scientific and humanistic discourses. In the Jewish world, Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch called this approach: "Torah im derech eretz," Torah and the world.
This (month) a contingent of BYU scholars will be presenting papers at a session on Levinas at the annual Boston meeting of the Association for Jewish Studies. This is a first. They will argue that Levinas's thought can serve to mediate the quality/quantity debate which rages unresolved and unending throughout the social sciences. I'm to comment on these papers. Whatever the strength of the argumentation, and however social scientists respond, I am already persuaded of the importance of the attempt.
I am no expert on Mormon history or theology. In the Encyclopedia Britannica one finds that the Church was founded in 1830 in New York State by Joseph Smith. It represents itself as a restoration of Christianity, though mainstream churches vigorously deny its validity and regard Mormons as heretics. Joseph Smith claims to have received new revelations from a heavenly messenger named "Moroni." The Book of Mormon, and other sacred texts, record the new revelations.
Impressed
I was not subjected to missionizing. During my stay in Provo we discussed very little theology, except when I raised questions, which were invariably answered frankly and politely. It is clear that Mormons are concerned that outsiders get a good impression. I got one.
For me the proof of any religious pudding is neither theological correctness nor right sentiments. For me the proof is in action, in moral and spiritual behavior. Does a particular way of coming close to God, i.e., a particular religion, produce good people? From what little I saw, Mormons pass muster.
The friendships I made during my short visit confirmed Dennis Prager's observation that religious people of different religions have more in common with each other than do religious and nonreligious people. I truly enjoyed sharing for a couple of days the aura of reverence and service within which the Mormons live their lives. (One must not forget, however, the observation of Rabbi Joseph Telushkin's mother, that the only happy people she knows are those people she doesn't know well. Still, I look forward to deepening my new relationships.)
Many Mormons compare Utah to Israel. Indeed, the Mormons think of themselves as Israel. They call non-Mormons "gentiles." There are Star of David patterns on their "ward" (= church) windows. If "imitation is the sincerest form of flattery," then Jews find themselves much flattered in Utah.
Thoughtful Mormons envision themselves as religious founders, like the early Israelites, keeping journals so that future generations will know what the early days were like. Mormon teen-agers spend thousands of their own dollars to missionize in distant countries for one and two year stints.
One senses a dignity in the air, a uniting sense of purpose, a determination, a reverence. Just as we do not just believe in Judaism but are Jews, in Utah . . . people do not just believe in Mormonism but are Mormons. In such society, one feels the presence of the Invisible. It moves me to realize that lecturing on Levinas at BYU was an event, however small, in the sacred time of the Mormon. I treasure the memory.
God bless.