Virtue and Self-Reliance

One summer, my parents’ ward held a special Sunday School class for the kids who had come back from college for the summer.[fn1] The Sunday School class was essentially a basic financial life skills class, the kind of thing that every college student (and most of the rest of us) needs, but that is woefully undertaught. The teacher, a member of the bishopric iirc, was a financial planner. He talked to us about budgeting, about saving, and other simple, practical skills.

I haven’t thought about that class in years, but my memory was jogged as I read (on Twitter) about a combined priesthood-Relief Society lesson on self-reliance.

I don’t know about your stake, but recently, mine has gone all-in on self-reliance. We had the combined lesson a couple weeks ago,[fn2] and at the end of this month, the stake is having a self-reliance devotional. And then we’re going to have a weekly self-reliance group that people can go to if they feel like it.

Now, I’m of two minds[fn3] about this. On the one hand, I’m a fully committed modern American. Frankly, helping people learn the basics of economic independence is unquestionably a good thing. Our social safety net has way too many holes and traps. It is super-valuable and super-helpful, but also super-difficult to navigate.[fn4] I mean, thank goodness it’s there—it is truly a blessing for those who need it—but it’s better to not have to rely on it.[fn5]

And I don’t think there’s anything wicked or anti-spiritual about addressing money at church. To the extent we believe that there is nothing that is purely secular, money is part of our spiritual lives. The Gospel should suffuse both the transcendent and the mundane parts of our life.

On the other hand, though, economic self-reliance can be done poorly. Even harmfully. The special Sunday School I went to when I was in college was good—it was pitched specifically as a practical and useful set of skills.

But the idea of self-reliance can become dangerous when we transmogrify it into a spiritual virtue. Why? Because it’s almost precisely the opposite of what our scriptures teach. The scriptures command us to care for each other, to rely on and support one another. Moses’ followers depend on God for their daily manna. The children of Israel find salvation as a community. Jesus commands the Apostles to feed His sheep. After His death, the Apostolic church practices communitarian economics. The Nephites rise or fall collectively. The D&C restores Apostolic economics, and even into Utah, the church experiments with various types of communitarianism.

I want to reiterate that none of this argues against teaching self-reliance at church. It’s a good thing, and, as a practical matter, a necessity. But it has limited moral valence, and is certainly not a spiritual virtue. Our brothers and sisters who can’t make ends meet are not spiritually inferior to those of us who can, and aren’t in a worse position than us when it comes to salvation. [fn6]

In fact, as we look at camels and needles, they may be in a better position.

[fn1] At the time, the church encouraged college students on summer vacation to go to their home ward, not to the local singles ward. I have no idea why, or, for that matter, whether that’s still what the church encourages, but even without that directive, I wasn’t interested in the singles ward in my parents’ stake.

[fn2] (which I missed—the Primary didn’t have a pianist, so I filled in)

[fn3] At least.

[fn4] For a first-hand account of the practical difficulties of navigating the U.S. social safety net, you could do far worse than reading Tracy’s recent book.

[fn5] That’s something we who are U.S. voters should work to change, but that observation’s outside the scope of this post.

[fn6] As best I can determine, the self-reliance push isn’t just financial, but also helping us work on spiritual self-reliance. On that front, I’d level the same response and critique: spiritual self-reliance isn’t a bad thing, but we can’t ignore the communal part of spirituality.