I think that one of the reasons for this is that sf/f tends to be much more character based than any other form of literature. In Sanderson’s Mistborn, the thing that affected me the most was Vin’s transformation from an abused street urchin to a person with strengths, abilities, friends, loved ones, and a sense of purpose in her life. In Card’s Ender’s Game series, the way that Ender saw the world and the way he struggled with the knowledge that he’d killed off an entire race of sentient beings deeply affected the way that I see others–and myself. In both of these cases, the emphasis on character and character growth makes the art seem much more real, much more meaningful, and much less preachy and pretentious.

In a similar way, the endowment ceremony in the temple can also be thought of as primarily character based, and focusing on character growth and development. The principles and ordinances contained in the ceremony don’t happen in a vacuum, or happen for their own sake, but are all tied in to Adam and Eve and their experience.

The gospel is nothing without someone to grow in it–eternal progression is an empty concept without the one who experiences the progression. Therefore, if we want to draw out that experience, one way we could do it well is to create deep, believable, honest characters and focus on their personal growth. This is why I think that LDS writers do so well in the genres of sci fi and fantasy–these are some of the two most character based genres in literature right now.

In fact, I think the temple is a sort of ultimate form of experiential art. There’s lots of rich symbolism with very little interpretation built in. It’s art you have to figure out for yourself, art with no singular meaning but multiple and flexible meanings. As I said in the post, I think creating similar effect in our literature, drama, etc. would allow us to avoid the didactism so often found in Mormon art, mainstream or otherwise.

Gideon: You had me up until art became focused on creating spiritual experiences. Of course that’s one way that art can function (and I’m suggesting a way we could perhaps do that better), but even art that doesn’t focus on “spiritual” experience (as we define it in church) can still be experiential. I think the contrast is between focusing on the meaning of the art vs. the experience thereof which creates meaning.

For me the most touching Mormon experience is that of movement in Temple worship. Our experience from room to room, representing eternal progression, allows new spiritual realities and new understandings that can occur from such things as materials chosen or new and varying proportions of space. The act of standing up, waiting, and entering another realm of existence provides a space of learning and ritual that is as important as the ritual itself. This crossing of the threshold into a new and more sacred space aids in spiritual clarity and heightens both experience and awareness. These thresholds provide opportunities for progression from the profane to the sacred, beginning with the exterior door, and ending at the veil.

The original concept for the Mesa and Alberta Temples beautifully combined this movement, space, and material selection with the symbolism of progression. For Mesa, you moved along an axis towards the Celestial room, always returning to the axis and moving upwards until the goal was reached. In Alberta, you circled the building, from quadrant to quadrant, always upward, until you reached the Celestial room in the center. As you progressed, the wood finishes in each room became darker and richer, interestingly the opposite of the white experienced in most Celestial rooms today.

Removing these thresholds lessens the experience of purposeful progression. Fortunately, the move recently with smaller temples has been to add at least one of these actual thresholds of movement back into the ceremony.

Second: Even with Gideon’s observation that art by immersion may not work so well, I’d like to point out that the Spirit descended in the form of a dove only AFTER that immersion took place. The immersion wasn’t even in that instance the spiritual part.

I would add a faith in progress, or eternal progression too, but I am not so sure this can be done consistently well. After all, progress is a heresy in modern literature, obsessed with deconstruction and tearing down, rather than building because that is a “worn out” theme, as old as mankind. I wonder if the literati culture really has room for a structure that we can succeed in.