tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66114051960947142202024-03-14T03:47:08.046-06:00Tiresias, ModeratedChristopherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15437446356877845822noreply@blogger.comBlogger64125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6611405196094714220.post-5899656214102643782023-12-30T15:30:00.016-07:002024-01-01T21:43:16.426-07:00Delivered<p>What a train wreck of a year. So long, 2023. And good riddance.</p><p>Today I’m thinking about the word “deliver.” What does it mean? Google says it means "to be set free" from the Latin verb "liberare," but now I am wondering what exactly I am being set free from, and why my spiritual deliverance sometimes feels like bondage. Google can't answer <i>that</i> question for me. It has been a brutal year for me, and I am left pondering if I am missing something. Singing Christmas carols and watching nativities has brought me more questions than answers this year. Will my faith in Christ's deliverance hold strong if I am born into yet another new year of heartbreak and challenges? "Oh come, oh come Immanuel," I sing with renewed fervour, but what if He never comes?</p><p>At Christmas, we celebrate two parallel deliveries in the birth of our Savior. The first is literal. Birth is called a “delivery.” Mary delivered her Son with her own flesh, and wrapped Him in swaddling clothes, and laid Him in a manger. The second delivery we celebrate is more spiritual than physical. Christ delivers us <i>spiritually </i>with His flesh, swaddles us in the garment of His priesthood, and gathers us to His bosom the way a Mother receives her child, or like a hen gathers her chicks. It is an experience meant to parallel the birth of a child. Rebirth is as real an experience as our own miraculous birth from our mothers.</p><p>Delivery can also be a cruel experience, for both the mother and the child being delivered. I have witnessed it with my children, standing there like a helpless idiot at the suffering of my wife as my child remains too long wedged between worlds. All of my children ended up in the NICU because of the trauma of their birth, gasping on their own meconium. Some days I feel like I am also stuck in the birth canal, fighting for my life, choking on my own crap, heaved and contracted by the slow rhythm of days that shoves me out of the amnion and into what feels like a world of cold oblivion. </p><p>Most weeks I am lost in the midst of my labor pains, unaware of the exceptional pains of my great Deliverer, the tearing of His flesh or the gushing of His blood that are required weekly for me to receive new breath, a new spirit, and a new life. But on New Year's Eve, I take a moment and recognize that Jesus and I have labored together through a lot this year, through another 365 circle around the sun in a timed contraction that brings me closer to the ever dilating cervix of my mortal exit. This has been terrifying for me, to face my own mortality and waning, but despite what it feels like, I have not been alone in my suffering. A mother in labor cannot be separated from her child. Neither Christ be separated from me.</p><p>Like the Lord’s people waiting for deliverance from the Romans at Jerusalem, all the world has been taxed. The tax is at times grievous to be borne. We all live and work and scroll our phones in a world run by usurpers. The irony is that we worship a God that’s completely absent from the pantheon of our oppressors. This tests my faith to its limits, because my God seems so powerless here in a system run by whoever has the most soldiers. How can I put stock in a sacrificial lamb in such a place as this? How can this brother nailed to a cross save me in a world already boasting in their victory won with warriors and weapons? I am mocked for believing in a God who appears to have lost the war. My victors make merry that when I most needed strength, I am reaching for a God they are crucifying before my very eyes. They inscribe on his cross, “Behold, the king of the Jews.” Or perhaps in my case, "Behold, the king of this poor repressed bisexual Mormon." There is no victory for me here. Or so it seems.</p><p>Christ does not immediately deliver me from them, this nation of selfish despots and grandiose tyrants. His kingdom is not of this world. This is always frustrating to me, and so my suffering continues. Though I hold onto my belief in Christ's eventual victory, I am often unable to feel anything else except the daily ache that I must carry with me, the relentless loneliness—my deepest, loneliest of hurts. It is hard to praise God when all I feel are the pangs of a wound that does not heal. But this cross I carry connects me to Him. Sometimes the tenor of my worship is more of a lament than a praise, but my God understands this even better than I do. "Is there any other way?" "If it be possible..." and “How long, O Lord?” are as holy prayers as anything else in the scriptures. They are prayers the God of all has uttered Himself as He groaned beneath my load.</p><p>In years like this, carrying the burdens I have now, I am annoyed and desperate at the news that Christ’s deliverance will not take me out of the fire. It was a rude jolt for me in recent years to gradually fall out of the comforting faith of my youth in which obedience alone brought blessings and safety. But the truth cuts deeper. A baptism is not just a cleansing baptism of water, but a purging baptism of fire. In some ways, Christ's deliverance is an extraction out of the womb of my comfortable innocence that puts me directly into the birth canal of my great purging—the sanctification that comes when I pass through this burning, dilating ring of fire. That is one meaning of deliverance that packs a punch. Though covenants with Christ can bring comfort, they can also bring pain. Both those things are true. But in the crucible of my faith, I'll admit that sometimes all I can feel is the pain.</p><p>Deliverance. Delivered. De-livered. In the myth of Prometheus, his punishment from the gods for stealing fire from mount Olympus was to be bound to a rock while an eagle swooped down at him daily to eat out his liver until it grew back again the next day. The savage cycle of eagles tearing open his flesh daily feels disturbingly relatable. Like Prometheus, I am also bound to this rock, de-livered by the daily grind of discipleship that tears at my bowels. But that is not the definition of de-livery Christ is talking about. To be delivered is not just to be insanely mutilated. No one would continue on such a path. Chapels and temples dedicated to this God wouldn't have anyone in them at all. </p><p>And here is my declaration of faith: Jesus Christ is the rock we are tied to, but He is <i>not</i> the torture. He is the Deliverer. Binding myself to Him is not a pointless ravaging, but the purposeful purging of my natural man. Sometimes it grows back just as quickly as it is removed by the eagles, but daily repentance and taking up the cross of discipleship brings me peace and reconciliation. It is a work I will continue to engage in willingly, (though at times "<a href="https://speeches.byu.edu/talks/jeffrey-r-and-patricia-t-holland/however-long-hard-road/">turning a rather steely eye toward heaven</a>" as Elder Holland puts it.) It is the joy of the saints, the comfort of the comfortless, that which always looks like madness to those watching on the outside of it.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAYPAodpB6Bm9kQPjzput8FlxX_yVYenynQI5w87VQ1Mamyyyg5Ew8J5IiMgkqa0xmz_T89UDeyFo55yQR2LqZy4QNdbtdNDEFbYd48YEZuApMGvmET4zoZgkueIiLoYSpcBuOxScr-bewP_WLcB_iGaFC4cLecK3alu1nodg7qQuBqODXLT_kIkQaK5bj/s500/prometheus.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="369" data-original-width="500" height="472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAYPAodpB6Bm9kQPjzput8FlxX_yVYenynQI5w87VQ1Mamyyyg5Ew8J5IiMgkqa0xmz_T89UDeyFo55yQR2LqZy4QNdbtdNDEFbYd48YEZuApMGvmET4zoZgkueIiLoYSpcBuOxScr-bewP_WLcB_iGaFC4cLecK3alu1nodg7qQuBqODXLT_kIkQaK5bj/w640-h472/prometheus.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Prometheus,</i> by Patrick Rasenberg</td></tr></tbody></table><p>So passes another day being de-livered by the eagles. Another year closer to my delivery as a Son of God. This is a difficult process, but it is not without joy or devoid of meaning. What gives my suffering meaning? What makes "all the difference" on this "road less traveled by?" </p><p>It is the love of Christ. I can feel Him here with me. This is the path toward love. He is de-livered and delivered alongside me, like a mother giving birth to Her child, or like a Prometheus at the sacrament table regenerating for another go with the eagles. He is here with me in the sacred spaces of my innermost heart. I would rather spend a lifetime of purging with Him here than face a lifetime of comfortable luxury without Him. His love is perfect. It dazzles me. I am drawn to it again and again. Learning to love the way He loves breaks my heart wide open again and again with my incompetence, but I tie myself to this rock willingly, because this is the rock that bleeds for me. This is the rock that delivers me, the only sure foundation in a world of fiery darts and tempestuous whirlwinds and reliable unreliability. (Helaman 5:12) This is the rock that delivers me from the absurdity of my inevitable death and sin.</p><p>So here at the end of another year, I am reminded once more that "the days are accomplished that [I] should be delivered." (Luke 2:6) And we all will be. So I say Merry Christmas to that, and a very Happy New Year.</p>Christopherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15437446356877845822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6611405196094714220.post-90590799917059663992023-01-17T14:27:00.076-07:002023-01-22T07:26:17.722-07:00Gathering Israel or Spreading it?<div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">President Nelson said, “The Gathering of Israel is the most important thing taking place on earth today.”</span></div><p><span face="sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">I like the phrase "gathering of Israel" because it suggests that <i>we</i> are the ones out there searching, not everyone else. If we are out there gathering, then we are the ones with the deficit. We are called to gather the people and truths we are missing. We are seeking wholeness. This should invite greater humility in how we interact with others because they have something to offer <i>us, </i>not just the other way around. Relationships come into sharper focus, instead of PR and marketing campaigns and trying to maintain a certain image.</span></p><div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I sometimes think of it as "spreading Israel" instead of gathering it. Framing it this way, however, missionary work tends to give me intense feelings of anxiety and guilt as I try to spread myself around, but always bump up against my own pride. And while there are aspects of sharing in the gathering process (Christ still asks us to be the light, the salt, the city on the hill, etc.) that doesn't mean we are asked to be door to door salesmen. Though we may have an excellent product, if we are only there to sell and never to buy, we won't come away with any sort of lasting relationship.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Instead, we are seeking our own salvation outside of ourselves, which is precisely what love makes us do. "He that thrusteth in his sickle with his might, the same layeth up in store that <b>he</b> perisheth not, but bringeth salvation to <b>his</b> soul." (D&C 4:4)</span></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Thinking of ourselves as spreaders of Israel rather than its gatherers, we might miss the most exciting part of the gathering—<span id="docs-internal-guid-b737ef46-7fff-3bd3-bce2-39598e077766" style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">the miracle of our </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">own</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> redemption that comes from participating in the gathering process! The part where </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">we</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> get to repent and change, not just everyone else</span>. The primary indicators of success for the spreader are numbers of baptisms or likes on social media, <b>but</b> <b>the indicator of success for the gatherer is simply an increase of love and a change of heart.</b></span><div dir="auto"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-size: medium;">Our efforts at gathering Israel may bring healing and conversion to others from time to time (which is always a joyful bonus we can expect) but most importantly the work of gathering heals and converts <i>us</i>, the laborers in the vineyard. As we learn in Jacob 5, grafting branches not only gives new life to others by connecting them to Christ through the ordinances of the priesthood, but it also brings new life to our own very old and VERY high maintenance olive tree, saving us from the inevitable decay and death of our own stagnation and pride.</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-size: medium;">Gathering Israel should bring a spirit of life, flexibility, and newness to our congregations. It should invite humility and sharing, rather than smugness and salesmanship. It is the pathway to love. I will admit that I say all this to console myself because I am actually a terrible spreader. If God's missionary work really follows a business model that focuses on marketing and statistics (like it sometimes did for me as a full time missionary in the mid 2000s) I know I would flunk the program (and probably not be <i>that</i> unhappy I did.)</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-size: medium;">But as it turns out, I am actually a pretty good gatherer. Not that I am not still awkward and clunky and full of flaws, but that when I try to gather I am forced to face up to my own deficits, and so I end up picking up more truths than I was initially trying to spread. Gathering gives me the opportunity to learn how to </span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>carefully (and with the Spirit) find new ideas from all kinds of people and weave them together with the truths I already cherish. This alone makes it worth it for me.</span><span> </span>From my Latter-day Saint bubble, I once left on a mission as a 19 year old kid thinking I was going out to save the world, but I ended up finding the missing pieces I needed to save myself. While I did help some people come unto Christ through faith, repentance, and baptism, the main story was that the people I met as a missionary saved <i>me</i>. That was the miracle.</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-size: medium;">So what are we gathering? Everything and anything good! New ideas, new truths, new kinds of people that fit into the body of Christ. This requires a change in US as much as in THEM (whoever THEM is supposed to be, anyway.)</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-size: medium;">As we learn to gather Israel and unlearn the work of spreading it (or worse, scattering it!) the process becomes a collaboration instead of a transaction. We form friendships instead of treat people or groups as "projects." Marketing and PR are no longer our biggest concern, and honest dialogue and relationships become foremost in our minds. Our hearts are</span><span style="font-size: medium;"> more open to recognizing our flaws, both as individuals and as a collective, and we repent of them because we know it's a process of change <b>in ourselves </b>to gather those people we need, along with their fresh perspectives, in order to be made whole. (And that includes everyone.)</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-size: medium;">So for me this </span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>year, that's my goal. To gather the truths and relationships that I need in order to be made whole. This time, I am doing it for me and my own salvation. I may still be awkward at it, and my own pride and fear</span> will certainly keep getting in the way, but for me it's worth the effort.</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-size: medium;">It probably still won't convince me to buy a "gather" sign for my kitchen, though.</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQawyy-0uyRoMo-uGN4UW96F8CxuGQYuvyloTJTSjJ275NWbt4V0t9yoATqMtlFjycg0u7Gsi_hKfPu4yQ8Nz1CHAb-suXS8iSe1LXEfepKTvpXi5hPpilJq63VqdH9brrQo4r5x8UCpaPRzHaakPW4ednsWo3uVAJxrvQfE-g-Z_fIcxCKlStDTkCow/s679/gather.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="679" data-original-width="679" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQawyy-0uyRoMo-uGN4UW96F8CxuGQYuvyloTJTSjJ275NWbt4V0t9yoATqMtlFjycg0u7Gsi_hKfPu4yQ8Nz1CHAb-suXS8iSe1LXEfepKTvpXi5hPpilJq63VqdH9brrQo4r5x8UCpaPRzHaakPW4ednsWo3uVAJxrvQfE-g-Z_fIcxCKlStDTkCow/s320/gather.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div></div><p></p>Christopherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15437446356877845822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6611405196094714220.post-21508638706309537502022-08-28T16:12:00.029-06:002022-09-01T08:52:54.227-06:00"How Long?" Bringing Back the Lament<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMkY-6BGYo6kpogDgTjGJDEDSLQFrXcJOUHVz28_k9Z8qOPJ3Imug1TQ8sVGI7cLSz_WbQ0puf5nHUvjuvBQvWW_bzprrtZK_5VNu6CW5hd7IsejlEzK3--5ZDsZWU6_ivTMdLnFqraOVJTqDw7rciOR_0cMt1k73Ax61cScdqASrx9KzIklPKxpq4qw/s566/agonyed.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="378" data-original-width="566" height="429" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMkY-6BGYo6kpogDgTjGJDEDSLQFrXcJOUHVz28_k9Z8qOPJ3Imug1TQ8sVGI7cLSz_WbQ0puf5nHUvjuvBQvWW_bzprrtZK_5VNu6CW5hd7IsejlEzK3--5ZDsZWU6_ivTMdLnFqraOVJTqDw7rciOR_0cMt1k73Ax61cScdqASrx9KzIklPKxpq4qw/w640-h429/agonyed.png" width="640" /></a></div><br />As a registered nurse, I sometimes work with patients that have been diagnosed with a terminal illness. One of the most common questions from them is also one that takes a fair amount of courage for them to ask out loud: <i>How long?</i><p></p><p>It is also one of the most difficult to answer. <i>How long </i>depends on a lot of things. Some patients outlive their prognosis considerably, others may pass long before the estimated time. It's often a guessing game. All we know is that there will be an end, and that it won't be long.</p><p>Unlike most medical treatments, in palliative care the focus is not on curing the disease. Rather, we focus on symptom management until the end. <i>Comfort care</i> we call it. All medical treatments focus on providing comfort for the patient rather than removing the actual causes of affliction.</p><p>In a sense, we all are terminal. There is no cure for mortality, except through death and the promise of an eventual resurrection. We all have been designated as "comfort care measures only." There are some spiritual diseases that can be cured, certainly. Repentance does wonders, for one thing. But generally speaking, we are here to experience for ourselves spiritual and physical death. Spiritually, we are in a fallen world that has limitations on what we can do, and we face mortal challenges that cause us pain, suffering, and sorrows. If we are in tune to this reality at all, we might, in anguish of spirit, ask our Lord and Physician, "How long?"</p><p>How long must we suffer? How much time do we have? How long until this is all over?</p><p>This is usually asked when circumstances are such that we are forced to face our diagnosis in some way because we are in great pain. We might spend a lot of time and energy <i>not</i> facing our mortality and sins, of course, avoiding our spiritual disease until at last something happens and we have to confront it in ourselves. Trials come to all of us, and sometimes the symptoms of the disease of mortality can be pretty severe. </p><p>The question, "How long" is very scriptural. It is a normal, even necessary step. The lament is a part of our journey towards our Physician, the Savior Jesus Christ. When we ask that question we are in good company.</p><p>For example, when Joseph Smith was in Liberty Jail in perhaps the lowest point in his life, he asked the Lord that question. "O God, where art thou?...<i>How long</i> shall thy hand be stayed, and thine eye, yea thy pure eye, behold from the eternal heavens the wrongs of thy people and of thy servants, and thine ear be penetrated with their cries?" (D&C 121:1-2)</p><p>Alma asked that same question "<i>How long</i> shall we suffer these great afflictions, O Lord?" (Alma 14:26) after seeing the people he converted thrown into a fire and was himself imprisoned and suffered great cruelty at the hands of his oppressors.</p><p>Job asks his unhelpful friends, "<i>How long</i> will ye vex my soul and break me in pieces with words?"</p><p>Habakkuk asks, "O Lord! <i>How long</i> shall I cry and thou wilt not hear!"</p><p>Numerous prophets were very familiar with the lament of <i>How long?</i></p><p>Out of all scripture, however, it is the Psalms that use the phrase <i>How long? </i>the most.</p><p>Traditionally, we know the Psalms are hymns of praise, but we sometimes forget that they are also hymns of lamentation. The Psalms blur the line between lamenting and praising God. In fact, the two opposing ideas can actually happen in the same prayer. Can we really learn to lament the reality of our circumstances and praise God at the same time?</p><p>We live in a culture that eschews the lament. "Don't be so dramatic," we say to the person who is in process of rending their garments and covering themselves with sackcloth and ashes. "Don't you know things will be alright?" "If you just had more faith, you could see the hand of the Lord in your life." We conceal suffering, teaching our primary children: "No one likes a frowny face. Change it for a smile!" "Scatter sunshine all along the way!" We call honest, soulful anguish the "ugly cry." The lament is pushed away in our interactions with each other. We hide our deepest sorrows, our most painful wounds, from each other.</p><p>Sometimes, the lament needs to come first before we can rejoin the ward choir praising God. In my experience, a stifled lament will always get in the way of our journey to Christ. I am convinced that faking joy will eventually make our worship hollow. God does not want us to pretend away our suffering. That will deaden us spiritually as much as anything.</p><p>Christ, our perfect example, taught us how to truly lament: "My God, my God, why has thou forsaken me?" In Gethsemane, in the act of atonement, Christ did not kneel down to praise His Father. He knelt down and lamented to Him. </p><p>Telling someone in their own personal Gethsemane to praise God instead of allowing them to lament goes against Christ's example and, unless we allow a friend or family member the appropriate time to lament, could become spiritually toxic. Continuing to hide our sorrows will divide us from each other instead of knit our hearts together in love.</p><p>As much as I wish we could, we cannot skip the lament on our path of discipleship. We cannot praise God without first recognizing and acknowledging the sorrow, the pain, the anxiety, and the human weakness that He delivers us from. He does this in His time, not ours. </p><p>That does not mean we turn away from Christ in our sorrows. On the contrary, looking to Christ in our suffering is the very essence of the lament. We turn to Him when there is no one else to turn to. It is a part of looking to <i>His</i> suffering and beholding <i>His</i> wounds, weaving our narrative of suffering with His. Remember the Nephites lamenting because of the loss of their loved ones in the destruction in fires, earthquakes, etc. When Christ came down, He first asked them to behold His wounds. We can behold His suffering even <i>before</i> He heals us of our own wounds, because His wounds are our wounds. Having faith in Christ means connecting our suffering to His.</p><p>Do latter-day saints know how to lament?</p><p>I have a six year old daughter who is an expert at lamenting. It is not a skill I have. To my detriment, I am more of an expert at concealing and discounting negative feelings, but I have learned this is not helpful when someone is truly sorrowing. If I come in armed with explanations and resolutions and sunshine to shine on her problems while she is still lamenting, I make the problem worse. The howls get louder because obviously I can't see her suffering. I have learned that I need to get down in the sorrow with her, even if I think things will be alright. I have to mourn with her. I have to support her in her lament, to validate the six year old sorrow she is feeling. The lament is a part of healing, and trying to taking it away from her does more damage than good.</p><p>In my limited experience, more often than not I see us hiding the lament from each other. We skip that part. We bear our testimonies about how Christ is with us in the <i>resolution</i> of our problems. That part is obvious. But it is harder to bear our testimonies that Christ is with us while we are still in the thick of it, when He is silent, when He seems invisible to us, when it feels like we have to trudge our path alone, and we are mired in the mud. (Psalm 69)</p><p>Perhaps we fear that if we are not feeling peace and joy in the gospel, we are doing it wrong. Or that we are somehow unworthy of the blessings. Sometimes we feel alone because there must be something wrong with us if we feel this way, especially when we feel like we are the only one who isn't having a nice time at church. When everyone else is wearing their Sunday best faces, how can we show up at church with a face full of sackcloth and ashes? Or worse, maybe we fear the the Lord has really abandoned us after all.</p><p>Is our suffering even welcome at church?</p><p>Each of us made a covenant at baptism that we would mourn with those that mourn, and comfort those who stand in need of comfort. We made a covenant to share each other's burdens. (Mosiah 18) </p><p>Can we do this when we consistently hide our burdens from each other?</p><p>Perhaps our culture could use an adjustment. In my opinion, I think we need to learn better how to mourn with those that mourn. "Blessed are those that mourn." We need to restore the lament as a vital, holy part of our worship. "How long," should not be seen as a lack of faith, but as a sacred prayer.</p><p>Sister Amy Wright in this last General Conference states:</p><p></p><blockquote><p>"Oftentimes we can find ourselves, like the lame beggar at the gate of the temple, patiently—or sometimes impatiently—“wait[ing] upon the Lord.” Waiting to be healed physically or emotionally. Waiting for answers that penetrate the deepest part of our hearts. Waiting for a miracle.</p><p>"Waiting upon the Lord can be a sacred place—a place of polishing and refining where we can come to know the Savior in a deeply personal way. Waiting upon the Lord may also be a place where we find ourselves asking, “O God, where art thou?”—a place where spiritual perseverance requires us to exercise faith in Christ by intentionally choosing Him again and again and again. I know this place, and I understand this type of waiting."</p></blockquote><p></p><p>"Waiting upon the Lord can be a sacred place."</p><p>Some of my most sacred prayers I have offered in my life have been angry prayers. Prayers that came from a place of intense suffering. Those hot angry tears when the heavens felt like brass and when the suffering continued in spite of my best attempts to live the gospel—when I felt forsaken and downtrodden and forgotten and left in extreme anguish of spirit. Looking back, it was in those moments that I have connected with Christ the most, when I have tasted in some small way the bitter cup of Gethsemane and known that He understands what it is like to suffer. He suffered so that "he may know how to succor his people in their infirmities." (Alma 7) Like Paul, my allotted suffering has become holy to me because it was in it that I understood better what my Savior suffered for me.</p><p>When we sing, "Who, who can understand?" we find the answer: "He only One." (Hymn 29 Where Can I Turn for Peace) Christ's words to the lament of Joseph Smith in Liberty Jail was this: "The Son of Man hath descended below them all. Art thou greater than thee?" (D&C 122:8) Our physician is the only one who knows how to provide "comfort care" in our long, slow, painful palliation. But He is with us to the end.</p><p>If you are lamenting, let yourself. Lament to the Lord. Connect your suffering to His. Without any resolution on your horizon, still mired in the mud and sinking, waiting for the miracle that doesn't seem to arrive, when all your faith feels vain, let yourself lament. Cry unto the Lord. "How long!" This is a sacred prayer. Your lament is a vital part of faith in Christ. You are in a sacred space. You are connecting yourself to Him in a way that is every bit as meaningful as any prayer of praise because you are connecting directly to Christ's atonement. He is a man despised, rejected, and acquainted with grief. (Isaiah 53) This is your path to become like Him, and you do not have to walk it alone because you are never closer to Christ than when you are walking the lonely path He trod.</p>Christopherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15437446356877845822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6611405196094714220.post-17398666827858416422022-06-18T08:37:00.000-06:002022-06-18T08:37:56.828-06:00Father's Day and Finding Balance<p>Last month for Mother's Day, I shared my opinion that the greatest gift men could give their wives and mothers for Mother's Day is to wake up and behold their suffering. This Father's Day weekend I am wondering if there's a corresponding invitation for men.</p><p>I have to conclude that maybe it's the same one: to wake up and behold our OWN suffering, and and see the trouble that comes when we see each other as a role instead of as a person.</p><p>With the social pressure men already feel, that "true" masculinity never shows weakness or is emotionally vulnerable (or even admits there is a problem at all) it takes courage to speak about ourselves in ways that aren't considered overtly masculine. It takes courage to acknowledge our own suffering as men and seek support in it. While masculinity is a good, crucial, and even divine part of who we are, there are some aspects of cultural masculinity we have inherited that hurt us, both men and women. It is especially problematic when false binaries based on gender stereotypes highjack a sacrament meeting or Sunday School class.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm6ersnRozqS6GyFBX7ghc6qWFbqhOe4QoCRv73KzPlWQBq1xzulnwkfYKS5cID533W69F6uMkXBIuLgLRGXMBWplUTtdy6TMBlE6t15PcL8zW1o_-zJzTpe_bM0PBdi39EfO23f6jHXT_w5gHNRl3sR5i1ElUvnkPUCNxCKIzmdM4eAdqN-qgCi7ytQ/s553/Fathers%20day.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="553" height="578" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm6ersnRozqS6GyFBX7ghc6qWFbqhOe4QoCRv73KzPlWQBq1xzulnwkfYKS5cID533W69F6uMkXBIuLgLRGXMBWplUTtdy6TMBlE6t15PcL8zW1o_-zJzTpe_bM0PBdi39EfO23f6jHXT_w5gHNRl3sR5i1ElUvnkPUCNxCKIzmdM4eAdqN-qgCi7ytQ/w640-h578/Fathers%20day.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p>Now I am going to say something a little bit controversial here, but I think sometimes our gender role fixation built up around post World War II American middle class family dynamics is akin to a modern day golden calf.</p><p>Don't get me wrong, I believe in the Proclamation to the World on the Family, and I embrace the teachings of modern day prophets about marriage. I believe that "gender is an essential characteristic of individual premortal, mortal, and eternal identity and purpose." But the model for men AND women that should be lifted up for us to behold, on Father's Day and Mother's Day (and always) should not be based on any particular cultural gender construct. There is nothing in the scriptures that convinces me of that, and plenty of real life experience to convince me otherwise.</p><p>Instead, the model that should be lifted up is Christ.</p><p>Christ showed us that a person can develop a balance of "masculine" and "feminine" characteristics in oneself without having to rely on a complementary opposite sex spouse to be made perfect/complete. In Christ, we all can learn to become whole individuals, to be "at-one" with ourselves through Christ's at-one-ment, rather than turn into lopsided men and women who can't hardly function without the other one filling in the gaps. And this actually happens. It makes for terrible relationships. The way we make that balance work for us will be as unique as we are, but it must always be a balance.</p><p>I will be quick to point out that it is never helpful to judge individuals or leaders when we fall into this kind of idolatry and lose focus on Christ as our model as men and women, but it is helpful to call out the wicked systems that make it happen. We can start by recognizing that a lifetime spent in patriarchy hardens men and encourages toxic masculinity, abuse, addictions, and shame. This is because the feminized traits that we ALL need as men to be made whole are devalued and even feared. This leads to a myriad of social ills.</p><p>Christ's invitation is to help heal all that. His invitation is for men to receive His priesthood and exercise it in order to become more tender, to witness suffering and minister to it, to weep, talk about feelings, show affection, nurture youth—to become what some social constructs might define as "feminine." Through priesthood service, we can learn how to balance feminine traits in ourselves while still holding onto our masculinity with an appropriate sense of balance. For those who are fathers, being an active part of raising children can also help us develop those traits naturally.</p><p>While so much of patriarchal systems teach men to focus on efficiency and productivity over feelings and connection, to dominate in social hierarchies at all costs, or to amass wealth and seek after individual accomplishments, many men choose to reject that model and reorient themselves towards a balance of masculine and feminine qualities. Fatherhood can help make that happen, but it doesn't happen automatically. It isn't even instinctive. The natural man has always been "an enemy to God." </p><p>And that's why I honor the many men, especially my own father, who deliberately work to protect a space for community and the feminine collective spirit to flourish. I am grateful to know men who know how to do this very well, and even wear out their lives trying to make it happen.</p><p>No father is perfect at this. "We have learned by sad experience that it is the nature and disposition of almost all men, as soon as they get a little authority, as they suppose, they will immediately begin to exercise unrighteous dominion." (D&C 121:39) We know Christ's priesthood "cannot be controlled not handled, only upon principles of righteousness." (vs 41) This is a near impossible task in a power structure that is totally invested in encouraging men to do exactly the opposite of what Christ invites us to do. But we keep on trying, anyway. </p><p>I see the suffering of men as they try to provide for their families without getting consumed in the process. I see the struggle of men who confront a system that attempts to turn our divinely ordained diversity into 9-5 drudgery, making us a cog in an economic machine that everlastingly tries to separate us from our wives and families. I see the suffering of men who are taught by the devil to fear emotional vulnerability and to run away from beholding our own weakness.</p><p>But I also see the many good men who have chosen fatherhood in the fullest sense of the word: men who use their privilege in a patriarchal society to sacrifice and serve to help foster a place for families to flourish, transcending nonsensical gender labels in order to restore masculine/feminine balance in our communities, in our marriages—and most of all in ourselves. </p>Christopherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15437446356877845822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6611405196094714220.post-49460851361563255022022-05-06T19:02:00.065-06:002022-05-07T19:10:43.927-06:00Mother's Day and Raising Lazarus<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Parenting is <i>hard</i>. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Having some experience being the stay at home parent, one thing I learned about taking care of kids is not only how much <i>suffering</i> is involved in being a caregiver, but how <i>invisible</i> you feel in that suffering. A person doesn't really need someone to tell you how wonderful you are, or how you have some natural ability to do things another person just doesn't want to do—things that feel <i>anything</i> but natural, like cleaning up vomit at 4AM or spreading peanut butter on pickles. Telling a person they are somehow <i>divinely designed</i> for hardship could end up making them feel even more invisible in their suffering than before. </div><p style="text-align: justify;">No one likes a pedestal. Sometimes what a person would really like is to be <i>seen</i> in their suffering and then have some real <i>help.</i></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Sometimes I wonder if on Mother's Day men end up giving talks or sending cards that are more about making <i>ourselves</i> feel more comfortable with the status quo of gender dynamics than they are about validating the real difficulty of motherhood. So what would be helpful? I think Mother's Day is an opportunity for us all, especially men, to behold the suffering associated with motherhood, and then step up to do what we can to help. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">In the Garden of Eden, we might consider God's words to Eve as a kind of prototype Mother's Day talk, a precedent for how to approach the topic of motherhood. It went like this:</p><p></p><blockquote>"Unto the woman [God] said, I will greatly multiply thy sorrow and thy conception; in sorrow thou shalt bring forth children." (Genesis 3:16)</blockquote><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">No platitudes or candy-coating there. Try slapping that on a Hallmark greeting card and sending it out for Mother's Day. But the point, I think, is that the first thing God did was acknowledge the suffering that comes with being a "mother of all living." While men have a corresponding sorrow mentioned a few verses later, only women's sorrow is <i>multiplied</i>, because Eve's suffering turns into much more than just what a woman experiences in actually bearing children.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9ecxSnUaFB9RWXbVrev3akW8ZY5Xj2Z_we5TMPThLLw4bREnRMscjkLYUUPyUxh2PCMjcg6XVeXUGLeH2N1DOEDHh5kxYTkSyjNlLxrYD7anO4311SXfyoVbsLSnhlayxp_N4dmh8WmM_eal3MHEgvV7Rz7yddvMOqTbxo0PWv0x3QBBBBslIALNZHw/s583/High%20Five.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="430" data-original-width="583" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9ecxSnUaFB9RWXbVrev3akW8ZY5Xj2Z_we5TMPThLLw4bREnRMscjkLYUUPyUxh2PCMjcg6XVeXUGLeH2N1DOEDHh5kxYTkSyjNlLxrYD7anO4311SXfyoVbsLSnhlayxp_N4dmh8WmM_eal3MHEgvV7Rz7yddvMOqTbxo0PWv0x3QBBBBslIALNZHw/w320-h237/High%20Five.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">As men on Mother's Day, we get to choose whether to minimize the suffering of women and mothers in order to make ourselves more comfortable about it, or to stand as a witness to their suffering, to validate it and acknowledge it the way God did for Eve in the garden. Witnessing their suffering first may help us to know how to be a better support.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I don't think I am being controversial when I say that Mother's Day tends to minimize suffering. Men stand in line at Costco to throw some flowers or a nice meal at their wives' or mothers' suffering and hope for the best. Though motherhood certainly is a glorious part of the plan, a Christ-like act, a selfless endeavor, a tremendous triumph of love and creation, someone has to stand up and say that wiping noses and breaking up fights and staring into the abyss of your own inadequacy as you create and raise up actual people just <i>sucks </i>sometimes<i>. </i>And the suffering doesn't end when children grow up, either.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Perhaps we can acknowledge that suffering is as much a part of delivering us <i>physically,</i> the way our mothers do, as it was for Christ to deliver us <i>spiritually</i>. This parallel suffering and deliverance between birth and rebirth is referenced by Elder Holland in his talk "<a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/general-conference/2015/10/behold-thy-mother?lang=eng">Behold Thy Mothe</a>r!" and has me thinking of what it means when we promise to stand as witnesses of Christ. Maybe that can also mean witnessing the suffering of others, the way Christ did. For men on Mother's Day, perhaps that means especially witnessing the suffering of women, and maybe doing a little more trying to alleviate their suffering, and a little less of contributing to it.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I have noticed in myself that there is something uncomfortable about witnessing suffering, and I think this is especially common for men. Too often we want to fix it, explain it, reconcile it, contextualize it, or incorporate it into something more palatable to our own male experience. Perhaps this might even be because we feel some measure of guilt to recognize that we are actually complicit to women's suffering, because we are doing things (or not doing things) that directly contribute to their pain. But other times our discomfort might not be our fault necessarily, but come from simply living in patriarchal systems that tend to hurt women but benefit ourselves.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">But most of the time, suffering has no words and no explanations. Some pain has to simply be felt and some wounds have to be witnessed by others before they can be fully healed. For example, there is no easy resolution to the fact that creating a human child hurts a woman a heck of a lot more than it hurts a man. The act of birth can literally tear flesh. There is no theological explanation for that inequality.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">For hundreds if not thousands of years, men made themselves scarce during that sacred, painful act of delivery for their children, unable to stomach the anguish of their wife and behold the blood and horror of it all. Birth was something to be witnessed only by women, and men had no part of it. That has changed now. What can a man learn witnessing the suffering of childbirth? Maybe some humility.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">For me, I remember how useless and bewildered I felt in that final, excruciating act of creation performed by my wife for each of our five children. Before I watched the birth of my first child, I had conjured up in my mind an idea that creation of human life is some kind of equal partnership between men and women, but it turns out that all I could do in that moment was just stand there like an idiot and witness something that was so one sided that it made my one night's tiny half cell contribution almost laughable.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Importantly, not all of the pain of motherhood is physical pain. As God says, sorrow "multiplies" from conception. I saw this first hand during the pregnancy of our last child, when my wife's emotional and mental pain was so intense she was hospitalized in the psychiatric ward. Just as I felt helpless during the actual labor, I also felt helpless then, visiting her in the hospital with some ridiculous cupcakes, trying to understand an emotional burden that was simply beyond my understanding. But at the very least, I could be with her and witness her pain.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Furthermore, the pain of a woman does not always correspond to being a mother at all. For some women, the pain includes <i>not</i> being a mother or a wife, or simply not fitting the mold of a patriarchal society at all. For some the pain involves an abusive relationship, past trauma, or simply the pain of being overlooked. Whatever the suffering is, as brothers, fathers, husbands, bishops, ministers, we need to wake up and see it, and not minimize it into Mother's Day platitudes for our own convenience.</p><p><b><u>Waking up Lazarus</u></b></p><p style="text-align: justify;">In the scriptures, Christ spent much of his time waking up men. In the garden of Eden, the relationship between Adam and Eve began with Adam asleep while Eve waited for him to wake up. This seems to be a trend in many relationships, including mine. In another garden, Gethsemane, Christ's disciples were also found asleep, the way Adam was, when He asked them to witness His suffering as He performed for them the harrowing act of spiritual delivery, the atonement, in much the same way that our mothers delivered us through the suffering of their own bodies.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">The atonement of Christ took place in two stages. The first, as I mentioned, was witnessed by men in the Garden of Gethsemane and seemed to be focused on the physical and emotional pains and sorrows of all humankind, which caused Christ to bleed from every pore. It was a bitter cup that even Christ shrunk away from. He asked his disciples to watch with Him three times, but each time He found them asleep. He said, "What, could ye not watch with me one hour?" Apparently they could not. Their spirit was willing, but their flesh was weak.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">The second act of the atonement, we learn, took place on the cross. This was specifically witnessed by women, including His own mother who watched and waited with the Savior until He announced, "It is finished." These two acts of the atonement included two separate witnesses, male and female. Significantly, there were no women asleep at the cross. The final act of spiritual delivery was witnessed by a demographic that perhaps knew better than men something about watching and waiting and witnessing the pains of giving birth as they watched Christ spiritually bear us so that we could be "born again."</p><p style="text-align: justify;">But what about those sleepy men? And how are we like Christ's disciples in the garden? Men who receive the priesthood take upon themselves a covenant specific to them, inviting them to wake up:</p><p></p><blockquote>"O that ye would awake; awake from a deep sleep, yea, even from the sleep of hell, and shake off the awful chains by which ye are bound...Awake! and arise from the dust...Awake, my sons; put on the armor of righteousness. Shake off the chains with which ye are bound, and come forth out of obscurity, and arise from the dust." (1 Nephi 1)</blockquote><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">So much of priesthood leadership in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is an invitation for men to wake up and behold the suffering of others, especially women. Three men are called to sit on the stand each week and supervise the breaking and passing of the emblems of Christ's suffering to His people, the way Peter, James, and John witnessed the body and blood shed for us in the garden of Gethsemane. This is an invitation that perhaps, this time, men will not be found asleep as they consider the ways Christ suffers with His people. I am not convinced we are doing this yet, but I do believe the priesthood has the potential to help men change the world, starting with themselves, and to see firsthand the wounds of patriarchy and then work to heal them, to spur men to get over themselves and move the world toward gender equality and Zion.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">The final mortal miracle of Christ according to the gospel of John is also His most impressive: raising Lazarus from the dead. Lazarus is the brother of two of Jesus' closest friends, Mary and Martha. These two sisters send for Him to come heal their brother, but instead of coming right away, Jesus purposefully tarries a few days. When He finally gets ready to return to Judea to heal Lazarus, Jesus goes out of His way to explain that Lazarus is not dead, but <i>sleeping</i>:</p><p></p><blockquote>"Our friend Lazarus sleepeth; but I go, that I may awake him out of sleep. Then said his disciples, Lord, if he sleep, he shall do well. Then said Jesus unto them plainly, Lazarus is dead. And I am glad for your sakes that I was not there, to the intent that ye may believe; nevertheless let us go unto him." (John 11)</blockquote><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Upon reaching Mary and Martha, their grief was so great that Jesus "groaned within Himself." Lazarus had been dead and buried four days, and Martha came running to Jesus saying "Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died." While Martha was comforted by Christ's testimony that He was the Resurrection and the Life, Mary's grief was so great that she could only sit within the house. She was inconsolable.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">When Jesus commanded that the stone be moved away, Martha's first concern was for the smell, saying "Lord, by this time he stinketh: for he hath been dead four days." But in spite of the impossibility of such an act, to bring to life a body so far gone in decomposition, Christ succeeded in raising Lazarus from the dead, to unbind him from the grave clothes and untie the napkin on his face.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Waking up men is something Jesus specializes in. I believe there is much symbolism in this story of Lazarus, a reminder that Christ has the power to wake men out of sleep even if that sleep is so deep they are actually dead and rotting. Lazarus is a metaphor for all men in Israel whose sisters weep outside the tomb, hoping against hope that they can be woken up by Christ's call to "Come forth!" This call, as I mentioned, comes in the form of priesthood service.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">In the latter days, I believe Lazarus wakes up by degrees. Jesus taught, "He who is greatest among you, let him be your servant." The burial clothes Lazarus is bound in could remind us of the robes of the priesthood, and that each time men repent and put off the natural man and exercise their priesthood, overcoming the universal tendency for unrighteous dominion (D&C 121) that results from gender hierarchies, and respond to the call to minister to help relieve suffering, we all get a little bit closer to Zion.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">In that process of raising Lazarus, many will need to be comforted. Some women might be more like Martha, content with the current explanations about the role of women, with hope that things will be better in eternity the way Martha was comforted by Christ's testimony to her. But some women might be more like Mary, whose pain was so great that she "remained in the house" and wouldn't come out for that Mother's Day sacrament meeting. Sometimes the explanations simply do not help. But whether we are ministering to a Mary or a Martha, our task is the same: we need to wake up.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">When Mary and Martha suffered, it says "And many of the Jews came to Martha and Mary, to comfort them concerning their brother." This is something we <i>all</i> can do to prepare ourselves for the day that Lazarus will be fully raised from the dead. Christ's Second Coming cannot happen until Lazarus is awake. Though Christ tarries today like He did in coming to Bethany, the sleeping men caught under the spell of patriarchy will eventually wake up, and we will witness with wonder Christ's power to perform His work and succor His people.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIsYbD4sjY8jT9MoSmhauo5O7aiU9qB_1wq3z_pPnADinhmFo9ZqEej8cHyk840JQsHvccZTZemg-VTZ1inWgOAQNgyiPf3ft3d5hWcqWlxtj-z-M8TKcEOeI5AecNVtr3FBTHf2bX8FgHW3hASreKjq6Kyqw80QuzZ2xxblgRGL-rZypcQLYqsC6h-Q/s900/Lazarus.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="681" data-original-width="900" height="484" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIsYbD4sjY8jT9MoSmhauo5O7aiU9qB_1wq3z_pPnADinhmFo9ZqEej8cHyk840JQsHvccZTZemg-VTZ1inWgOAQNgyiPf3ft3d5hWcqWlxtj-z-M8TKcEOeI5AecNVtr3FBTHf2bX8FgHW3hASreKjq6Kyqw80QuzZ2xxblgRGL-rZypcQLYqsC6h-Q/w640-h484/Lazarus.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"The Raising of Lazarus after Rembrandt," Van Gogh, 1890</td></tr></tbody></table>Christopherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15437446356877845822noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6611405196094714220.post-78834972299211886242022-02-06T16:20:00.009-07:002022-04-10T18:54:31.698-06:00Tower of Babel<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjLuJjK7iOU66XryDLXXoJlW_U8-44YyEu5omvkQpoX2-3ajZUkmR2BiTxwlZMmBY8qYTH7AKLLwLvuIcSkxPTBoeD0cbhivAVPKQi31vp5fgTGSeFUIhh4FaOk9GYrJndC-4q65y0WhGF52Bwp3eo5k0HdAvcXrzQFG1ehRchgIgape6G8d0OEa3b-Sg=s1200" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="878" data-original-width="1200" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjLuJjK7iOU66XryDLXXoJlW_U8-44YyEu5omvkQpoX2-3ajZUkmR2BiTxwlZMmBY8qYTH7AKLLwLvuIcSkxPTBoeD0cbhivAVPKQi31vp5fgTGSeFUIhh4FaOk9GYrJndC-4q65y0WhGF52Bwp3eo5k0HdAvcXrzQFG1ehRchgIgape6G8d0OEa3b-Sg=w400-h293" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The (Great) Tower of Babel, Bruegel the Elder, 1563</td></tr></tbody></table><br />What is the difference between building Zion and building the Tower of Babel, when both stories are about trying to build our way to heaven? How do we know which work we are engaged in? We can know by whether or not we are listening to each other.<p></p><p>The people in the Old Testament were trying to get closer to God. I doubt we are supposed to take the story literally, that these people were actually dumb enough to think they could build a tower high enough to reach heaven, but there is good symbolism there.</p><p>"'Go to,' the people said, 'let us build us a city and a tower, whose top may reach unto heaven; and let us make us a name, lest we be scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth.' And the Lord said, 'Behold, the people is one, and they have all one language; and this they begin to do: and now nothing will be restrained from them, which they have imagined to do. Go to, let us go down, and there confound their language, that they may not understand one another's speech.'" (Genesis 11:4)</p><p>In today's polarization, we are likewise confounded in our language. Sometimes, we legitimately do not understand one another's speech. When I talk with someone about certain political issues, I sometimes wonder if we are speaking in foreign tongues. So many things break down in translation. "Freedom." "Common good." "Rights." "Responsibility." We have lost the ability to communicate different perspectives with much degree of comprehension or common ground, and I appreciate that it is as much my fault as anyone else's.</p><p>Why would God confound us, members of Christ's church trying to build His kingdom on the earth? Sometimes, I think, it is because we have forgotten that we are building Zion where there are "no poor among [us,]" and have instead been building a tower of Babel in its place.</p><p>For a long time, and emerging out of a complicated cultural framework in the early 1900s, we had at last developed a solid core name to be known by, an unofficial "Mormon" identity that involved a certain culture, politics, language, and which abided by grammatical rules of what it meant to speak properly about being a latter-day saint. Those who didn't speak that language were, to our detriment, often pushed out. Our identity eventually became less and less about our belief in Christ and his gospel, and more to mean a certain political orientation and certain set of social expectations. At the time, it was easy to work together this way, all of us predominantly located in the intermountain West and superficially united in the same cultural language. But the polarization of our world has changed all that. It has pointed us to the fracture lines in our foundation. Like the Salt Lake City Temple, we need a renovation. </p><p>As we internationalized and faced more complex social issues at home, our makeshift language that we constructed as a defense against the world "lest we be scattered," lacked the vocabulary to move forward. We became mired in an identity that tends toward exclusivity rather than inclusivity. From here on out, if we are going to move forward we are going to have to adapt and focus on our common faith in Christ regardless of our social or political views. We need to value our differences, instead of marginalize them. In short, we are going to need to learn to speak one another's languages.</p><p>In the day of Pentecost, there was an outpouring of the sign of the gift of tongues. I believe we need this gift now more than ever. Not necessarily literal languages, but we need ways to interpret each other's differences with edification and rejoicing. Every day I lack this gift! But with each of us and our thick pioneer accents that hail from a multitude of different motherlands, we must learn to understand one another. Our ways of gesturing and communicating will vary depending on our life's experiences and a variety of political and social backgrounds, but taking time to listen to someone who speaks differently is going to be necessary work. It will enrich our church with diversity. It is the gift of interpretation of tongues. Without it, there will be no Zion, only the Babel of the 6:00 news.</p><p>The common language, the one we shall never throw away because it is the everlasting alphabet of our Savior, is the gospel of Christ. It is the language of Zion, the means to make a society consist of the "pure in heart" and where there are truly no poor among us. Christ's gospel language demands a rhetoric of bold defense for the most vulnerable among us, rather than focusing on ourselves. Christ's gospel is the language of service, inclusion, and love. Without learning to listen with love, our work will look less and less like Zion and more and more like the Tower of Babel, or perhaps even like Lehi's vision of the great and spacious building.</p>Christopherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15437446356877845822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6611405196094714220.post-31682218815226207822022-02-01T00:48:00.009-07:002022-02-01T08:27:36.472-07:00On Convoys and Caring<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh1QTSiubxH-pfEALbtZNHloov4R2wRbjRSqSyEXIfmWMLkVvpIQy1blZ3ARIn6qn52poNuvLM22snVmaBf8-9DrpnDIWUIgLsRmcOEL4QiGXUEZi99kIEczGlV6B6G0myPfk3Iu3HwurNcItmC2G2fDqHZ26Z97tCL8uqEoIIelkqdtcv3yy0yVrtBRg=s650" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="650" data-original-width="650" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh1QTSiubxH-pfEALbtZNHloov4R2wRbjRSqSyEXIfmWMLkVvpIQy1blZ3ARIn6qn52poNuvLM22snVmaBf8-9DrpnDIWUIgLsRmcOEL4QiGXUEZi99kIEczGlV6B6G0myPfk3Iu3HwurNcItmC2G2fDqHZ26Z97tCL8uqEoIIelkqdtcv3yy0yVrtBRg=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br />We talk a lot about a health care system because that's what it is. It's a system. Like any other, it is based on efficiencies and statistics and bottom line dollars. We analyze bed capacity and staffing and projections of possible admissions, equipment needs, budgets, vaccination rates, and skill sets. Like any system, it has hierarchies and values, and choices must be made every day about which values have priority.<p></p><p>So it is not surprising that some people feel lost, unheard, and invalidated in this system. It is a real problem. More than anything, I am concerned that many people are losing their trust in this system altogether, especially their trust in health care providers, as legitimate questions about a rapidly changing pandemic come about as quickly as the tidal waves of information and misinformation that try to answer them.</p><p>When we have a question about the wiring in our houses, we go to an electrician. When we have a question about migration patterns of dolphins in the Gulf of Mexico, we ask a marine biologist. But for some reason, when it comes to our own bodies, more and more we are turning to the people on the internet, many whose credentials are inflated or entirely misrepresented, and then turning around to call the ones who have spent their entire lives studying the human body and epidemiology untrustworthy. What is going on here? Are some people just idiots? Or could there be some problem with us in healthcare?</p><p>Now, I am hardly some veteran, experienced nurse over here by any means, but I have done some thinking and tried really listening to a lot of people with different perspectives than mine, and while I still think many are totally quackers, I have come to the conclusion that not everything is their fault. I think part of the blame is with us. It is my opinion that much of the pandemic fallout shows us that our healthcare system could use some tweaking.</p><p>I hear many people who feel like their concerns about vaccines and side effects often go unanswered as we rush them through the system like a production line in a factory. The drive to vaccinate has always been about numbers, statistics, and a race against time, and to some degree rightly so. But we all know that one of the biggest problems in this pandemic has been that people are not feeling heard or seen. Some people feel talked down to or ignored by their health care providers in the rush to protect the public and stop the spread, or just because we don't have time or energy to explain the same thing one more time. Some people feel like they are even treated like the enemy because of their health beliefs. Some honest questions are met with derision or a brush of the hand instead of an attempt to give thoughtful answers. This has to be, in part at least, our own fault. The metaphorical call bells are going off somewhere else in the ward and so we triage, we prioritize, and sometimes we just don't have time to explain why we are doing what we are doing, Mr. Jones, so please just sit down and take your dang medicine because we don't have time for your shenanigans.</p><p>Right now a trucking convoy for freedom, with a lot of my friends hollering their support, is a symptom to this problem of not feeling seen or heard. The pressure has been building for a long time. It is hard to listen to and see the answers from someone when you don't feel listened to or seen by them first. It speaks to a demographic who hasn't had their concerns acknowledged for two years. In my church we teach that </p><p></p><blockquote>"No power or influence can or ought to be maintained...only by persuasion, by long-suffering, by gentleness and meekness, and by love unfeigned; by kindness, and pure knowledge, which shall greatly enlarge the soul without hypocrisy, and without guile—reproving betimes with sharpness...and then showing forth afterwards an increase of love toward him whom thou hast reproved, lest he esteem thee to be his enemy." </blockquote><p></p><p>As I see many who now esteem scientists, government officials, and even healthcare providers as their enemies, I wonder if we need to re-evaluate how we do things.</p><p>Any system like ours naturally thrives on administration and bureaucracy. We all know this. Rules and policies and rollouts and shareholders are what steer Alberta Health Services, not the benevolent nurse who holds hands and validates feelings. This does not mean administrators do not have their place. We need administrators and science informed policies and quality control and someone to balance a budget. But it isn't enough. It is not a balanced system if we don't carve out and protect a space for caring and compassion and listening and nurturing and a whole lot of patience. And I think this is what is missing today.</p><p>In any system there is a Yin and Yang of feminine and masculine qualities to make things run smoothly, but more often than not, the masculine qualities of efficiency and quantifiable production will beat out the feminine qualities of the compassionate, caring nurse every time. Because newsflash! We are living in a patriarchal system. We value masculinized characteristics over feminized ones. It's the very air we breathe, and healthcare is a pretty good case study for it. The administrative qualities will rise to the top and the nurturing qualities of caring will remain unpromoted at the bottom.</p><p>After the physician strolls in and gives the diagnosis and writes the prescription, he will have to move onto the next one, because this is an assembly line model with a waiting room out there full of other patients, and with specific billing procedures to follow. Most policies are formulated with the business model in mind. Almost all physicians I know are furious with recent changes in our province that make it even <i>more</i> like an assembly line, with artificial quotas and red tape that put unnecessary restraints on a physician's ability to take time and care. Meanwhile, on the other side of the team, nurses are facing the cutting block in virtually every budget meeting, and it is a constant fight to even keep our place in the system at all! Some suggest that humans in healthcare could be replaced with an App. Obviously, this is an imbalanced system. This is not news to anyone who works in health care, and we generally work out that balance between efficiency and caring in our practice as best we can.</p><p>Every nurse I know starts out caring deeply about people. They are naturally drawn to a profession that values listening, taking care of people, talking with them, alleviating suffering, and teaching. But more often than not, the system doesn't allow much time for that. When you are short staffed on the floor and the bells are ringing, the expectation is that you get the job done, even if it means treating people like pieces of meat in a factory as if everyone just needs a pill and a wipe and then you can send them out the door as fast as you can because the hospital is in overcapacity again. A nurse can quickly become jaded in such a system. There is a good reason you might get greeted by a tired, crusty, burnt out nurse who doesn't have time for your questions. It isn't that she or he doesn't care. They probably cared too much. But when you are treated like a cog in a factory, it will get to you eventually, and it isn't necessarily our fault.</p><p>Mind you, there are so many heroic caregivers that go above and beyond every day to take time to see the people instead of the numbers. But it is largely unsustainable in our current model. Anyone who cares deeply about people in this system all the time will burn himself or herself out. So you learn to ration your feelings and your caring, because compassion is not an inexhaustible resource. The time taken to explain treatments and answer questions and provide education about medications including vaccines to a blustering Mr. Jones is about maintaining an attitude of caring, sometimes superhuman acts of caring, and more often than not, this is the part that gives out well before the physical exhaustion sets in. </p><p>This side of health care, good nursing care, cannot be valued properly when the entire system is based on a masculinized business model where the bottom line is efficiency and people's health become the commodity. The pandemic has put even more pressure on us, and the gaps are glaring at us even more than they were before.</p><p>There is so much about our health care system to love. Socialized health care for all is something I am fiercely enthusiastic about. But I know not everything we are doing is working great right now. For one thing, voting for policies and governments that continue to gut the healthcare and education system in the name of freedom and a dollar will not work for me anymore. For another thing, I despair to see more and more people I know turning to the wild west of the internet for their scientific and health information, wading through garbage because they don't know the difference between politics and peer review. But I can't blame them. There is a reason they don't feel comfortable to turn to their own health care providers for clarification. How would they even get an appointment? To me that is the most alarming thing.</p><p>As I watched this past week's freedom convoy, battling between feelings of charity and disillusionment, I began to wonder what freedom and caring even means anymore. What it means to me. What is freedom without caring? Without truth? Without responsibility? As caregivers drown in the impossible task of single handedly educating a nation, of listening to people mired in conspiracy fears and trying desperately to earn back the trust of a demographic that has become more and more disillusioned, and all this while we face the unrelenting workload of saving lives in a short staffed and burnt out fifth wave, it becomes obvious there will be no convoy on their way to Ottawa demanding support for nurses and healthcare providers anytime soon.</p>Christopherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15437446356877845822noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6611405196094714220.post-52304634061208222072022-01-15T21:25:00.021-07:002022-01-30T08:04:15.587-07:00"It Shall Be Well With Him"<p> <span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">"And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity." (1 Cor. 13:13) It</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"> has been helpful this week (for me anyway) to look at these three Christian virtues as they are situated in time. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">1. Faith</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In a lot of ways, faith looks into the past. It is the evidence of things not seen, the substance of God's works as they have unfolded to us previously in human experience, either anciently as recorded in the scriptures, or in our own more recent family and personal experiences. Faith is a power of action. We build on past faith by "experimenting on the word," (as Alma puts it) which comes to us "like a voice from the dust" from the past to propel us forward into the unknown. Faith is not blind believing, but acting on past evidence. In some ways, faith is always dependent on the past. It is the "faith of our fathers [and mothers,]" the foundation upon which we, their children, must build. It is our first step in the gospel that connects us to God, but every step of faith we make, as soon as it is taken, becomes another part of the past upon which our discipleship is built.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">2. Hope</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If faith arrives to us from the past, hope always points us to the future. In Spanish, "to hope" is the same verb as "to wait." It is future tense, waiting with conviction for better things. It is the power that helps us see beyond the mortal muddle we are in, whatever feeling or emotion that drags us down in our lives. We hope for a future time where negative emotions or experiences can be resolved. We hope that some day we can sit down together in heaven through Christ, in a state of peace and total acceptance and with a perfect restoration of lost loved ones and lost blessings. Hope is the "anchor to our souls." (Hebrews 6:19) It is what helps us to make sense of less than ideal circumstances. Hope looks forward towards the ideal of what we and our fallen world can become in Christ.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">3. Charity</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But, of course, a life cannot be lived in either the past or the future, because it must be lived in the present. The most important time frame is now. We cannot focus our living on the experiences of the past, nor to the hope and idealism of the future at the expense of today. However much we would like to escape the discomfort of the present, to the suffering of the human experience around us on any given day, focusing solely on the past or future does not allow space for the crowning Christian virtue, which is charity, the pure love of Christ. Without His love today, our faith and hope in Christ is "sounding brass and tinkling cymbal," for without charity, we are "nothing." (1 Cor. 13) And so our lives must be spent trying to ground ourselves in the present, connecting with the beauty, humanity, and suffering of ourselves and the people around us by practicing love.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Charity is given to us only as we seek for it, pleading "with all energy of heart" that we might be filled with this love. (Moroni 7) Unlike faith and hope, which can be cultivated in solitude, love is relational. It forces us to connect to each other so that we can knit our hearts together in love. (Mosiah 18) It is what we are commanded to practice with each other now. Right now. Today.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Love is now. Love is not based on a person's past, or our past interactions with any person, because Christ's love does not allow itself to be clouded by how people once were. Neither does pure love look forward to the future, to some future state of a loved one, hoping that someday this person will be something other than what they are right now in order to love them. Just as Christ is present with us in each moment through His atonement (that perfect manifestation of His love) the pure love of Christ helps us to love and accept one another how they are </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">now</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. Love does not demand that another person be different than they are in order for us to resolve our own feelings of tension or discomfort about a person's behavior. Love embraces that tension. Love hurts because it comes at a cost, which is the cost of our own growth, to expand ourselves more in order to include another person more completely in the orbit of our love. In other words, love is our work and willingness to grow so that we can better love another person.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Too often what I call love is not actually love, but another version of hope and faith. I think this is common. In other words, we love people because we hope they will change into something they are not, into what we think they should be. Hence we withhold love in the present tense by projecting our love for them onto the future, some time when they are more worthy of our love. Other times we love someone for what they once were, drawing on our love in the past tense, because of memories and experiences we shared together in better times, and so we have faith that things will work out for our relationship like they have done in other situations. Make no mistake, faith and hope can be good things, important and extremely vital things. With Christ, faith and hope are often the building blocks of love.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But every crisis of love comes to us in the present. It is charity that "never fails," not our hope or our faith. Love sees people without their baggage and without any expectation or ulterior motive from us for their change. We see each other for who they are. We listen to each other for what they are feeling in this moment. Love validates them in the present. It is what we are all so hungry for, because to be human is to hunger for this kind of love.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Christ loves us while we are yet sinners, that even if we should never cease to be sinners, His love would not falter at all. It is a constant the way the sun is, for it shines for us every day in the present. He suffered for us not based on our potential, but because of who we are right now, in this moment. We do not work to be worthy of His love someday, gaining love by degrees until we have cleaned up and shaped up and attained the fullness of His love. His love is already full. Christ loves us perfectly, infinitely, exactly how we are now.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">How can I learn to love another person with this kind of charity? I believe it is the greatest task one can attempt to undertake, to learn to love someone exactly how they are without trying to manipulate or love them into submission. Learning to love another goes beyond my feelings for them. It is renovative. It is radical. It changes the world precisely because it changes myself, starting with my own heart. Love disrupts my natural tendencies, fundamentally making me a new creature. It makes me put away my "natural man"—all my insecurities, my fears, my ulterior motives, my comfort, my pride—so that I can be filled instead with Christ's love.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">What I have learned about myself, for all my lengthy words and deep thoughts and circular arguments and righteous desires, however noble they may be, is this: I need this love in my life. I lack it. Every time I am called to put it into practice, I come up short. I feel the weight of my discipleship so much more when I try to act on it, than when I try to explain it or talk about it in the abstract. One can only know how impossibly heavy this task is by picking it up and trying to heft it for themselves. Charity is my biggest yearning and greatest potential for strength, but it is also my greatest weakness. Reading about the love of God in the scriptures points me to my need for repentance, to change my heart, clear away the overgrown brambles of my own fear and pride, so that Christ's love can take root.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Before I did this study exercise about charity, I believed that my love could change people. Perhaps, to my shame, that was what attracted me to it. It still can, I suppose, but now I am learning that it is not at all in the way I thought. I admit that I sometimes thought of charity as a kind of weapon. I wanted to obtain it mostly so I could use it to my advantage. I imagined, "If only I could love someone enough to change them." Studying about charity has taught me that the pure love of Christ isn't used to change other people. It is used to change me! Every opportunity to love someone is an opportunity for me to be changed, not the other way around.</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I allow Christ's love into my heart, it makes me new. That is where the renovation occurs, not in some other person whose behavior or way of being happens to make me uncomfortable. Charity changes the world because it changes the heart of the person reaching for it.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In reality, being the self centered animals we are, I also have come to realize that charity is truly impossible. There is always some lingering animal fear that pops out of me, some selfish thought which interrupts it. Charity is the unattainable ideal of dreamers. As long as I am housed in mortal flesh, I am unable to generate this kind of selfless love on my own. But this is exactly why it is a miracle wherever it is found! And truly, I have seen it. I have felt it. Because my love is always tied up in my base and animal desires, Christ gives me His love, instead. When I pray for it, I am given opportunities to feel it, to see someone the way He sees them. Even if it only flashes into my heart for a moment, it leaves marks that permanently change me. Mine are simple moments that become recorded in my spiritual memory: an unexpected ice cream cake, a tupperware bowl of macaroni, a late night knock at a wooden door, the touch of a hand. These were times I was on the road to Emmaus and felt my heart burning.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"And whoso is found possessed of [charity] at the last day, it shall be well with him." (Moroni 7) I want to experience Christ's love not just once, but over and over again. I want that gift, to see someone with His love so that it changes me into something I am not, something more than I am. I already know I am a stubborn, insecure, anxious, prideful person with a fragile and easily deflated ego, and I know I become defensive and uncomfortable in the face of human vulnerability, especially my own. This has been a difficult but much needed discovery.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But I know His love changes me. It situates me not in the past, which is fraught with the evidence of my weakness, nor in the future, which is already looking like it will involve more of my failures. Choosing charity focuses me on the present, on the opportunities that are around me right now, because it is in the present where His grace is found, both to give it and receive it. Charity is the yoke we take upon ourselves when we take His name upon us. It includes the yoke of His grace that is both easy and light, but also impossibly difficult. But for now, it is sufficient for me to know that th</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">ere is an unlimited supply of Christ's love to accompany me in what I will have to face today.</span></p><br />Christopherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15437446356877845822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6611405196094714220.post-35384757330788087982021-12-20T18:50:00.002-07:002023-07-11T06:47:26.059-06:00David's Hallelujah<p><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEX9zgABKofSNVOG8nyHeSIleINyy0ednh1o_U3b6RSnW8TGIDFOyGb8xYEDPhb-47bdM7RbVKbGNDldi2MUiXqlqF7xBqYhSwHvepoCvHsitFLZowbzhsCIAX6h-sAGidZQ0qKtgC6BbwHj8wSUvAem3YB2jpPocnS3Y4aaF0ndEChLriD5GYDX8iDQ/s1024/820px-Gerard_van_Honthorst_-_King_David_Playing_the_Harp_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="820" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEX9zgABKofSNVOG8nyHeSIleINyy0ednh1o_U3b6RSnW8TGIDFOyGb8xYEDPhb-47bdM7RbVKbGNDldi2MUiXqlqF7xBqYhSwHvepoCvHsitFLZowbzhsCIAX6h-sAGidZQ0qKtgC6BbwHj8wSUvAem3YB2jpPocnS3Y4aaF0ndEChLriD5GYDX8iDQ/w257-h320/820px-Gerard_van_Honthorst_-_King_David_Playing_the_Harp_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg" width="257" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">King David Playing the Harp. Honthurst, 1622</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">One of the titles Christ uses in the scriptures is “Son of David.” </span></span><p></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-da924544-7fff-d8cc-a4d1-7793749ed35f"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This Christmas I was pondering that title. Why would Jesus, the one perfect man, choose a title that ties him to a man as imperfect, complicated, and flawed as David? True, David started out as the boy who once faced Goliath and won, but he still ended up the man who looked when he shouldn’t have looked, and then went on to hide his sin. His actions even led to what amounted to murder. Why would Christ choose to be born in Bethlehem, in the city of David of all places? David seemed like an immensely inappropriate candidate for this title, despite his many beautiful, desperate psalms pleading for repentance. What was it about David that Christ thought worthy of making a key part of His title?</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">From the union of David and Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah the Hittite that David committed adultery with, and she whose rightful husband David sent to the frontlines to die, came Solomon and the line of kings. Ultimately, from THIS complicated marriage came the line that brought us Jesus Christ.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Surely Christ should have come through the line of someone more worthy. Someone like Nathan, the prophet sent to call David to repentance for his sin. He seemed a decent fellow. I am sure there were plenty of other guys who didn’t whore around quite so much, men who didn't kill their lovers’ husbands quite so much.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">But He didn’t.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">David was indeed a paradox. He did both amazing and awful things.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Not unlike each one of us.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">All of us have a little bit of David in us, I think. We all have, once upon a time, fought our own personal goliaths and won. Some, like me, have made covenants with God in spite of the considerable goliath of same-sex attraction. Many still strive to keep it together, often against great opposition </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space-collapse: preserve;">midst </span><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space-collapse: preserve;">immense trials of faith.</span></p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And yet we are also weak. Painfully so. Some of us struggle with temptations and sins not unlike David. Many of us have found ourselves more than once on the rooftop. Like David, I think we all could write psalm after psalm pleading for a Savior who would one day redeem us from our sins.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And then it finally happened.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.” (Luke 2:11)</span></span></p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">All of us have a Bethlehem. A miraculous birth. A silent night. Metaphorically, in our spiritual lineage and from the very unholy union of our divine spiritual selves to our natural man, a Savior is born. Despite whatever Bathsheba’s we might have, despite whatever addictions, sins, and mess-ups we might fall into, we each individually have a Savior “born unto us.”</span></span></p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This Christmas and always, Christ chooses to be born again through you. Imperfect and complicated you.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Christ does not condemn us of our mortal shortcomings. He made us this way. He knows all about your “natural man.” He knows exactly what it is like to fight against the weaknesses of the flesh, and He has the power to forgive. What can we do to obtain this gift? What He expects from us is simply to not give up on Him as our God. We keep trying even if, like David, we spend a lifetime trying to get it right. All he asks is that we turn away from the false gods of the world, whatever they might be for you, anything that would lead you away from the priesthood covenants that bind you to Christ.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Jesus Christ asks each of us to keep looking to Bethlehem, to the city of all your mistakes, where “the hopes and fears of all the years are met” in the birth of Jesus Christ. The Son of David. The Son of Christopher. The Son of You.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The little stone we need to pick up and sling at our personal Goliaths this year is always the same one. It is the little stone of Jesus Christ, the one that made its arc through generations of messes and landed in Bethlehem, in the "House of Bread." Jesus can turn your little stones into bread for you.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">What was David’s “secret chord that pleased the Lord?” It was that he simply didn’t give up on Christ. That is the music we feel running through us. Even though the Savior David yearned for wouldn’t arrive in His city for many centuries, he didn’t give up. </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And He was born to die for Him. And for you.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">In the words of Leonard Cohen’s song, “Hallelujah.”</span></span></p></span>Christopherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15437446356877845822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6611405196094714220.post-71142948824210238402021-12-10T11:23:00.043-07:002021-12-10T20:31:01.459-07:00Converting to The Church of Jesus Christ of Present-Day Saints<p><i></i></p><blockquote><i> "...And we believe that He will yet reveal many great and important things pertaining to the Kingdom of God." (Article of Faith 1:9)</i></blockquote><p></p><p>This week I am pondering what it means to have a testimony of a church that is always changing. When we say, "I know the church is true," to which church are we referring to? The church as it existed yesterday? The church how it was in 1983? The church of a pre-pandemic 2019? If we mean the church today, what does that mean if the church is different tomorrow?</p><p>When I taught the gospel as a missionary, I remember well the enthusiasm of the new convert. Many newly baptized members were willing to take their old beliefs and throw them out the window. They walked away from their old church, old teachings, old books, old friends, and old socio-political alliances to eagerly embrace a new worldview. As the church continues to change through revelation, I wonder if we are doing the same?</p><p>I have on my bookshelf a lot of old church manuals. Many of them mean a lot to me. I learned the gospel from those old curriculums, and I gained a testimony for myself from many of those mid-century quotes. I trusted them. And yet, going through them now, I have read things and thought about old interpretations that don't resonate with me anymore. Some make me very uncomfortable. And why shouldn't they? If I am still living in the church of 1992, how can I embrace an ongoing restoration? Old interpretations have given way to new ones, and thank heavens for that. And in the future, our understanding will change again. That's what having a testimony of revelation means, as long as each step is a step closer to Christ.</p><p>Does this mean we can't trust the church's correlation department? Should I throw all those manuals away? Well, maybe. Probably. But I don't find it helpful if we just categorize previous teachings as "wrong" and current ones as "right," because I see how our light grows by degrees and our understanding has grown not from wrong to right, but rather from a darker shadow to a lighter one, and today we still "see through a glass darkly." </p><p>But I do think we can abandon some things. For example, we can stop trying to make sense of the "patriarchal order" when it hasn't been mentioned in a single conference talk for over twenty years. We can divorce ourselves from other spiritual millstones, too, like young earth creationism, and some of our anti-evolution, anti-science rhetoric. Digging around in old manuals can bring unnecessary hurt, and preaching them in Sunday can bring unnecessary doubt, especially to our youth. We can throw out our old interpretations of polygamy and the priesthood ban. And when we know more, I can't wait to throw away our current understanding of both gender and race, too, so we can embrace something even better. </p><p>I believe our testimony should be based less on church as much as on the revelation that powers it. I think we can take seriously the mandate to seek revelation on everything that is being taught, and we can have confidence in this process when we do it with a spirit of unity and love. We are taught that it is very good to ask questions and seek for answers in faith. Accepting hook, line, and sinker every sentence that comes from the correlation department as if it were written by the finger of the Lord on Sinai just doesn't give us the same opportunities to exercise faith. </p><p>For context, before there was Israel, there was just Jacob wrestling with the angel. Every problematic lesson plan can be our own personal invitation to wrestle with the angel. Some questions can take years. Others may even take a lifetime.</p><p>I used to think, back when the phrase "hastening the work" became popular that it meant God would change the world, but somehow leave me and my church intact. I felt pretty good where I was back then. I had all the answers I needed, or so I thought. Now I realize the Lord meant hastening His work <i>in me.</i> In my community. In the mainstream church itself. And now I believe changing me, and changing <i>us, </i>is prerequisite for God to change the world, because how can He gather Israel if the gathering place doesn't have the capacity to hold them all?</p><p>The official declarations in D&C regarding polygamy and the priesthood ban in this week's Come Follow Me lesson remind me that the restoration is ongoing. I also believe that not every degree of light and knowledge gets an official declaration and is canonized, either. As things become more clear by degrees rather than by official declaration regarding complicated issues, such as race and gender, we can still believe in the church, that it is not a static structure, but a developing one. We can have spiritual maturity enough to see that the church can be right on one thing and out to lunch on another, and yet still be the Church of Jesus Christ. This is because it is simultaneously the church of the latter-day saints, and we continue to live in problematic gender and racial contexts, and while still in them we work with Christ who gets us where we need to be.</p><p>I know this can be hard pill to swallow, especially for those hurt most by sexist, racist, or homophobic policies that existed (and likely continue to exist) in the church. For me, I take some degree of comfort knowing that God can work with imperfect people, because that means He can work with me. When I choose to "let God prevail" in flawed church leaders and members, I am better able to let God prevail in myself and my own imperfect life. </p><p>Sometimes, this has less to do with staying in the church in order to change it from the inside (which to me is just a setup for disappointment and resentment) and more to do with staying in the church to change<i> me, </i>because <i>I</i> need the growth that comes from forgiveness and patience. I need to let my gospel experience change <i>me</i> before I can expect it to change everyone else<i>. </i>Even more importantly, I have enough experience being wrong about a multitude of things to think twice about relying on myself to interpret complicated issues. I believe following a prophet and staying connected to the body of the church keeps us emotionally, temporally, and spiritually stable.</p><p>We have been reminded several times in recent General Conference talks that the Restoration is <i>ongoing</i>. Meaning the church ten years ago was less restored than it is today, and in ten years it will be even more restored. One might fairly ask, what's left to restore?</p><p>That's the million dollar question, not just for prophets, but for all of us. We tend to interpret restoration to mean restoring things that existed anciently in the original church structure. But I think that has mostly already been done. Some things, like polygamy, have already been removed, making us less like ancient Israel, not more. Increasingly, I think <i>restoration</i> means restoring things that weren't there before. Maybe things that have never existed among God's people, not ever. As demonstrated in Official Declarations 1 and 2, that may mean things like gender and racial equality.</p><p>As human beings, we tend to cling to what we know. We who grew up on 1970s and 1980s CES and Sunday School manuals—ones that taught us that a woman's place is in the home, or that evolution and the gospel are not compatible, or that God was behind the racist priesthood ban—we have a lot of catching up to do. This can feel scary. It was perhaps more comfortable for us to let the manual do all the work, to guide us only to those questions we already knew the answers to. But if we can't trust the manual, what can we trust?</p><p>We can trust the Holy Ghost.</p><p>The new Come Follow Me curriculum invites us to examine our doctrinal baggage and make adjustments, however painful they might be, by using the Holy Ghost to keep us in line with revealed truths from our <i>current </i>prophet. The new curriculum peels back almost two centuries of scriptural narratives and invites us to study, work, and seek for answers using our most current interpretations of scripture. It is an invitation to be an active part of the Restoration, an <i>agent</i> in its unfolding instead of a passive <i>recipient</i> of it. It is a bottom up approach to revelation, rather than a top-down one.</p><p>I am excited to be a part of this as it happens in the Old Testament, which for me is the most exciting book of scripture, mostly because it is also the messiest one. I know not everyone loves the Old Testament, but I like it because when I see the mess of Israel, it helps me put my own mess into proper context. Reading about the hot mess that was God's people, and even seeing that hot mess reflected in the church today, reminds me that I truly belong in this very ancient, very dysfunctional family. If Israel were to read like a pious "museum of saints" I may think I could never belong in heaven with them. Reading the mess of Israel reminds me of all the reasons why I need a Savior.</p><p>This year, I look forward to converting once again to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, at least as it exists in the year 2022. I will need the enthusiasm of a new convert to do this, and channel their willingness to let go of my preconceived ideas and beliefs. I pray for the humility to allow the Holy Ghost to penetrate the decades of lesson manuals that have been build up around my heart and mind, sometimes working like a much needed protection, but other times like a barricade to further revelation. I will try to let the Spirit sort out what parts of that fence to keep, and what parts should be thrown away.</p>Christopherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15437446356877845822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6611405196094714220.post-5455793991520655662021-11-21T02:06:00.013-07:002021-11-24T08:47:46.525-07:00On Pandemics and Prophets<p><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Listening to the prophet is as important in a pandemic as any other time, if not more so. But what does that mean, exactly? Can a prophet, whose job is to keep as safe spiritually, also act as a medical authority? Can he speak with authority about politics? Can we listen to him about spiritual matters, but ignore him when it comes to temporal ones?</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Prophets often talk about laws and temporal affairs, especially when they see how certain political issues will have spiritual consequences. After all, they are "seers." They <i>see</i> things. This includes prophetic knowledge that is both spiritual and temporal. In a time when divides in our church over masks and vaccines are causing spiritual damage to our congregations at least as much as the ongoing physical loss, their voice is vital to maintain unity, navigate truth, and show us correct principles that can heal our wards and stakes. Their teachings point us to Christ.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And yet, I don't believe that when the prophet speaks "the thinking is done." I know what it feels like when you struggle to agree with something and someone comes in and instead of listening to what you have to say they fly at you with a bludgeon telling you to "follow the prophet!"</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I know the hurt. I have felt it at certain times in my life when some of my political and social views did not line up with the church, like when I was a student at BYU during the church's campaign with Proposition 8. I can validate that feeling of confusion and hurt, especially when members marginalize you because you have a different perspective.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This is a learning experience for all of us. For me, it is a reminder to balance seeking truth with compassion. I am still trying, and I am truly sorry when I fail at this, because I still remember that feeling of rejection when you find yourself outside of the status quo of prophetic authority.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">For context, here is the quotation that I heard a lot and had to wrestle with at a difficult time for me during Proposition 8, especially when it was hurled at me like some kind of spiritual weapon:</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></p><blockquote>“You may not like what comes from the authority of the church. It may conflict with your political views. It may contradict your social views. It may interfere with some of your social life…[but] your safety and ours depends upon whether or not we follow.” (President Harold B Lee)</blockquote><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This quotation means something different to me now than it did then. I still believe it is true, but now I believe getting to that place of truth and safety is less about blind obedience and more about experiencing a "wrestle in the spirit" as we learn to truly listen and work through our differences with each other and with God, and learning to do this with integrity and faith.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I know that for many years and for many members, following conservative radio and websites and following the prophet looked a lot like the same thing. For years, members felt it was always "those liberals" who struggled to follow the prophet. And maybe so. But in the end, that wrestle was good medicine. At least, it was for me. It deepened my faith and taught me compassion. It stretched me in soulful ways and kept me in a place of tension that brought me closer to the Savior. Following the prophet became less about changing my opinion and more about changing ME. Wrestling with difficult questions in the gospel helped me grow, and holding li</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">beral views in a conservative church was a catalyst for much of that growth.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Now, what's good for the goose is good for the gander. For complicated reasons I don't fully understand, a vaccine has become a political lightening rod. After a discouraging political saga including Trumpism and an increasingly polarized newsfeed, the shoe is on the other foot. The prophet is now, in </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">the strongest and most consistent messaging possible, urging us to comply with public health measures and government mandates, and this has been a hard pill to swallow for many conservatives friends.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">No longer does the voice of the prophet align with the conservative news pundits and talk show radio hosts that were our closest allies during the cultural wars for religious freedom and traditional family values. But perhaps they weren't the horse we wanted to hitch our Zion wagons to, after all? At any rate, we know we can't keep one foot in Zion and the other one in Babylon any longer.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I am generally a positive person, and I want to first say that most church members I know have fallen in line, heeding the counsel of the prophet. Recognizing their quiet faith and obedience should not be lost to a vocal minority. Besides, I don't believe at all this is a "goats and sheep" type scenario, anyway. There is so much good in every single one of my friendly neighborhood anti-vaxxers to avoid categorizing any of them as apostate or unfaithful. They are good, decent disciples of Christ, every last one of them. Whoever is without fault here, cast the first stone.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But let's just say, I don’t hear the phrase “follow the prophet” taught quite as vigorously as I did in 2008. For some, that's because it's hard to say with an unmasked straight face.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Again, I know the difficulty in following a prophet when it conflicts with your political views. I know the pain, and I can validate that difficulty and intellectual stretching. But</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"> here is the thing: I learned for myself that it is not faith if everything you are asked to do is what you would do anyway. Where is the growth in that?</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Today, my testimony is that marriage is ordained of God. My faith came because I kept listening to and wrestling with prophetic authority. I want to share my testimony of prophetic authority with the same people who lent their testimony to me when I needed it, because following the prophet has richly blessed my life. It has given me protection at a vulnerable time.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I admit that I feel hurt and little surprised as I watch the same people who taught me to follow the prophet even “when it contradicts your political and social views” apparently unable to do the same for me, a registered nurse, when it is their turn. My feelings are sometimes raw as I witness a letdown of my community that chooses not to do what they once demanded me to do so persuasively. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">For many members, especially LGBT members, following the prophet meant to turn away from a fundamental part of their identity, to exercise considerable faith to accept a teaching that contradicted feelings that ran so much deeper than politics. And then for us to not even put a piece of fabric on our faces? And what a disappointing attitude about the miracle that is a vaccine! Seeing us balk at something so simple when others gave up so much is difficult for me.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Actions speak louder than words. Today, the message from some (though not all) is less about obedience and more about convenience. From some (though not most) church members, the message is this: “Follow the prophet, but only when it doesn’t interfere with your political views.” When the message comes from a respected member in a position of authority, for the spiritually immature youth it can undo a decade of primary lessons to “follow the prophet” in no time flat.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We can’t be surprised if, when all this is over, our youth do exactly that—ignore prophetic counsel in favor of their own feelings or political orientation, especially when it comes to issues far more complicated than saving people’s lives by getting vaccinated.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So please, if you still don't agree with vaccines or masks, keep wrestling. Do what the prophet asks by going to the right sources. Seek good information. Just as you told me once that spiritual questions need spiritual answers from God, scientific and medical questions will need scientific and medical answers from peer reviewed sources.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Now, as much as ever, "your safety and ours depends upon [it.]"</span></p>Christopherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15437446356877845822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6611405196094714220.post-42950074060253301292021-11-05T09:00:00.168-06:002021-11-11T10:59:51.922-07:00What Is To Be Done?<p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg05udnnRzorUhbkOGoHLCEIMaVQ7VAWnUf75xCr2_GRTp44rl0mjxPBnuZzNX4b56EgkGR92JpWDj2wioaGm0G4W6bEuNKqd1D-LFMVid4XSVI-aN-jVIPANz4FdrdNGBkbPkKvReIPaHv/s995/Pilate.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="995" data-original-width="794" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg05udnnRzorUhbkOGoHLCEIMaVQ7VAWnUf75xCr2_GRTp44rl0mjxPBnuZzNX4b56EgkGR92JpWDj2wioaGm0G4W6bEuNKqd1D-LFMVid4XSVI-aN-jVIPANz4FdrdNGBkbPkKvReIPaHv/w510-h640/Pilate.jpg" width="510" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ivanka Demchuk, <i>Pilate Condemns Jesus</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br />As always, we are living in a world of a million complexities. As we witness the roiling political and ideological waters—this latest frantic recruitment into teams—and as our different ideologies narrow us and break us into "all manner of -ites," and as the world prepares for its foretold and inevitable spiralling conclusion, we might feel like Joseph Smith did facing such divisions when he wrote, "What is to be done?" (JSH 1:10)<p></p><p>What can we preach in such a climate? Where do we start after so many earthquakes of social and political change? How do we renovate the temple that is ourselves? "These fragments I have shored against my ruins." (T.S. Eliot, <i>The Wasteland</i>) How can we preach our old cherished latter-day saint ideals and shore up "these fragments" of belief against the ruins of a culture that is shifting, and old ways of knowing that are rapidly crumbling away? </p><p>How do we move forward in such a time?</p><p>At some point, now or later, all of us will be faced with the great and terrible questions and forced to look into the eyes of the beast of the world's impossible binaries, the winnowing down of our lives into one choice or another, in which neither solution truly captures who we are. How do we choose between church and our loved one who is hurt by it? How do we choose between conformity and identity? Between family and sexuality? Between obedience and our mental health? Between politics and prophetic counsel? Between history and our traditional faith narratives? In my mind, these are just some of a million derivatives of the same basic and timeless question: How can we preach the heavenly ideal while respecting and acknowledging the pain, complexity and disappointment of a mortal life spent dabbling in a cave full of shadows?</p><p>And just to belabor a point, how do we teach eternal families and celestial marriage when so many find ourselves in family arrangements and personal situations that bring so much disillusionment and pain? How do we choose between teaching a gospel of joy and peace and blessings, while also preaching a gospel of suffering, growth, and sacrifice? How do we navigate so many competing narratives on history, psychology, theology, and science? Do we bury our heads in the sand and persist in our old narratives of celestial idealism? Or do we focus instead on teaching a narrative of how best to endure a lifetime of pain, abuse, and disappointment, and somehow manage to make this all sound very sane and desirable to ourselves and to our children?</p><p>The way forward in these impossible spiritual predicaments, these crises of faith, to me it is not to frame it as a choice between one or the other, between good and evil, ideology vs reality, since there are innumerable devilish decoys in both, and our own biases and human limitation can only ever lead us to eventually choose between one evil over some other lesser one. As Joseph Smith learned, "it had never entered into my heart that all were wrong." (JSH 1:18) Neither can the answer be found by an appeal to intellectual authority or tradition alone, however well they may have served us in the past.</p><p>Rather, we are faced, again and again, with a choice between Christ, and everything else in the world that is <i>not</i> Christ.</p><p>By preaching Him, instead of choosing between either idealistic or humanistic narratives, we rightfully end up preaching both the malady <i>and</i> the cure. This is how healing begins. We teach and preach the divine validation for every mortal struggle, the everlasting embodiment of every mortal pain and complexity. No matter what you are going through, Jesus Christ is the resolution for the tension we all face in this mortal experience. He is the narrative that includes us all, the Alpha and the Omega, the whole alphabet that we might use to speak or write what we think and feel. He is infinite, as He has borne every human suffering which anyone can experience. He is our way out of every possible human paradox, the Rock of Ages who clefts wide open for us to fit our sorrow in, the answer to every life chock full of tangled questions. </p><p>Christ knows how to appear to each of us in our own unique sacred groves, but as Joseph Smith learned, this comes only after the unique crucible of our question has been formulated and articulated, sometimes after hours and even years wrestling in the dark over it. In that moment we exercise our faith to call out to Him, He is the light that breaks through. He can overcome every demonic fight for our souls in a world hell-bent on recruiting us to a side. Christ alone asks us to join "none of them." He is the Light, the Life, and the Way. He invites us to take His name upon us, to become a member of His body, because no other name we could call ourselves can quite cover the gamut of diversity and difficulty of human experiences.</p><p>I have watched friends and loved ones walk many paths that are not Christ (and I am not talking just about those who stop attending church. There are a million and one ways to sidestep Christ at church.) I have walked those paths, too. I imagine I am still walking some of them. At times, we all might follow our more cherished ideological pathways to their inevitable conclusion in order to learn that they don't achieve a resolution to the question within ourselves. Nothing this world offers can fully resolve what it means to be a child of God in a lone and dreary world. Sometimes we must experience this knowledge for ourselves, by trial and error. </p><p>When faced with a difficult path in our discipleship, we might ask, "Isn't there some another road besides this one?" Even Christ shrunk from the bitter cup and asked if it were possible that it be removed. Eve asked, as we all do, "Is there no other way?" Especially in our greatest suffering, anything may feel more comfortably suited to our tired feet than this burning road through the wilderness to the promised land, and so we might temporarily seek for something more comfortable, whether it be gospel of conformity and platitudes, or a gospel of rebellion and disillusionment. Both are easier than personal growth with Christ. Both are easier than walking His lonely path that passes by Gethsemane.</p><p>But every path that is not Christ eventually becomes a brick wall. Every ideological breakthrough, even when it may feel new to us, degrades over time to yet another version of the same old, well played human drama wrapped up in new packaging. It leads to the same, because only Christ can walk with us though our life beyond this one. Only He can keep walking with us beyond our own mortality and to a new life and resurrection.</p><p>Once we have chosen Christ and have yoked ourselves to Him by covenant, we will still have our work cut out for us. It is not a once and done experience. We will continually find ourselves required to choose Him again and again, as each and every alternative is placed before us. Some alternatives may hold greater appeal to one than to others. There is always something else at church that may temporarily hold our appeal. But when the loaves and the fishes inevitably dry up, will we follow the Savior all the way? Will we take up our cross and follow Him to Calvary?</p><p>One of the hardest tasks and greatest responsibilities as disciples of Him is to stand as a witness of Christ "at all times and in all places." For those of us who spend a lot of time standing around with other latter-day saints, we may be surprised and even disheartened to find how frequently our witness of Christ is needed. There are sometimes more members of the body of Christ converted to the cultural, political, or social aspects of our church than there are converted to Him whose church this is. Truth be told, at different times this is all of us.</p><p>In the end and after so many words, my commitment to Christ means more to me now than it did one year ago, or five years ago, or ten years ago, or twenty. I imagine the crucible of doubt comes more than once to all of us. At least, it has for me. While I would never go so far as to say I am grateful for my trials, I also know that my time spent underwater has made my faith in Christ all the more meaningful, because after acknowledging better the depths and the waves, now I see better the miracle: that with Christ, I can walk on water. </p><p>When I stay focused on Him and not on the boisterous waves around me, and though I will inevitably sink at times, His hand is always there.</p>Christopherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15437446356877845822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6611405196094714220.post-17808784294953576882021-10-17T21:27:00.013-06:002021-10-17T21:37:50.158-06:00The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints<p></p><blockquote><p>"I promise you that if we will do our best to restore the correct name of the Lord’s Church, He whose Church this is will pour down His power and blessings upon the heads of the Latter-day Saints, the likes of which we have never seen." (President Russell M. Nelson, October 2018)</p></blockquote><p>I reluctantly took up the challenge to try and use the proper name of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints more. My initial thought, I confess, was that there just seemed to be so many more important things going on than our name.</p><p>I thought I understood the reason, three years ago. I get it, President Nelson. It helps us focus more on the Savior and our identity as Christians. It helps others understand who we are, and gives Christ the center stage. "But," I protested, "how we act should already be doing that, more than what we call ourselves." The ensuing rollout of that initiative that kind of turned our name into a marketing tool annoyed me, because I thought we need something so much more than marketing PR project to fix the shenanigans and what I saw as decidedly un-Christlike behavior going on in my church.</p><p>But thinking and engaging with that request to use the full title taught me something unexpected. I feel differently about it now, and not for the reasons I thought I would. For me, focusing on our name brings to the forefront a tension that just fits the latter-day saint experience.</p><p>The tension is not just because it is so dang long to say, though there is that, but also because there is an obvious conflicting claim in the name itself. The little preposition "of" in the title suggests ownership. "Of" can be possessive. In Spanish, which is my mission language, we don't say, "John's house." We say, "The house of John." So the name of the church claims that the church "belongs to" not only Jesus Christ, but that it also belongs to the saints.</p><p>So, whose is it? Is it the Church of Jesus Christ or is it the church of the latter-day saints? How can it be both?</p><p>Jesus taught, "And how be it my church save it be called in my name? For if a church be called in Moses’ name then it be Moses’ church; or if it be called in the name of a man then it be the church of a man; but if it be called in my name then it is my church, if it so be that they are built upon my gospel."</p><p>And yet, for some reason, the church has our names printed right alongside Christ's.</p><p>I have often heard it said that "The church is perfect but the people in it aren't." But that doesn't make any sense when you think about it. The church is definitely not perfect. The policies, the teachings, the structure, even the ordinances are sometimes changing and adapting, and certainly the church as an institution makes plenty of mistakes along the way. I literally can't think of anything about the church that I would feel comfortable calling, "perfect." President Nelson even quoted Joseph Smith in the last conference regarding temple ordinances saying, "This is not arranged right, but we have done the best we could under the circumstances in which we are placed." You could say that about a lot of things in the church. "This is not arranged right." While it is the Church of Jesus Christ, it is at the same time also the church of a group of very flawed latter-day saints.</p><p>The title of the church suggests that the tension is not really between imperfect saints and a perfect church, the way we often frame it, but rather between <i>imperfect saints and a perfect Christ</i>. We both claim ownership in this wild experiment that is the church. What happens when you become co-owners of a church with a literal God, with Jesus Christ Himself? What drama unfolds when you frame our relationship to the church this way? What happens when Christ shares His responsibility and priesthood with imperfect women and men, and lets them learn to practice His power to heal and bless? What chemical reaction happens when Christ is connected and paired, for better or for worse, with a group of deeply flawed men and women? What happens when He asks weak and simple people to be His hands?</p><p>Well, looking back on the past 200 years, a lot of stuff happens. Not all of it good. It's perhaps like teaching a five year old how to drive a car. We spend a lot of time in the ditch. But with Christ in the front seat directing things, we can expect to see good things. Like growth and learning. Repentance. Change, albeit at a glacial pace. Certainly not rapid growth, especially with such a large, international, and diverse group that are not always listening to the teacher. But steady growth.</p><p>I believe and have a testimony that this is the Church of Jesus Christ, but I also know it is, right now, also the church of the latter-day saints. That combination is complicated. Christ has made an ancient promise to gather Israel in the last days, and He is doing it through an imperfect group of people, and not always even the most qualified ones. Sometimes even fairly stupid ones, like myself, who perhaps most need this opportunity to grow up.</p><p>Accepting the invitation to be co-owners of this church makes it inappropriate for us to sit back and "let Jesus take the wheel" while we just keep showing up and let things happen on their own. I can't rely on others, either, even if I really like them. If this is really my church, too, it should not be a passive experience. Our actions truly determine the direction this ship goes. We can speak up and act and engage, and most of all, learn to love and include and minister to the marginalized. We must learn to serve in all the ways Jesus would.</p><p>And that is really hard to do.</p>Christopherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15437446356877845822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6611405196094714220.post-88010210764263729882021-10-07T23:49:00.395-06:002021-10-11T10:39:14.208-06:00A Wrapping Paper Church<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIGtBmbovN623az-yxj7wMj9W3SmaZqIWe94TP9BOSC5h2_Z3psP_hMWmX24BJ8vTjgG5mieRkgVmP4zumWH9DyW5_58kr6PZmRKRMqgBLh3bxUG7ZRz5IQB4ZYqDNY-LgmqtAOIlrS2CW/s300/gift.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="281" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIGtBmbovN623az-yxj7wMj9W3SmaZqIWe94TP9BOSC5h2_Z3psP_hMWmX24BJ8vTjgG5mieRkgVmP4zumWH9DyW5_58kr6PZmRKRMqgBLh3bxUG7ZRz5IQB4ZYqDNY-LgmqtAOIlrS2CW/w187-h200/gift.jpg" width="187" /></a></div><br />I am terrible at wrapping presents. I really am trying to be better, but sometimes it feels like such an unnecessary hassle, and for that reason I have been known to bypass convention and just skip that part. It's just wrapping paper, right? My lame present is thrust into the receiver's lap (sorry Becky) and they look at it and say thank you and that's it. That's the present. There is no performance, no ritual, no expectation, and no mystery. They either like it or they don't. It takes seconds to decide. Sometimes I go so far as to leave it in the plastic bag with the receipt in case they want to take it back to the store. We don't actually need wrapping paper or any of that commercial crap anymore. We're beyond that. Right?</div><div><br /></div><div>Well, it turns out, gift presentation is actually a bigger deal than I thought, and I'm coming around to this truth. I have learned that you lose something when you take that presentation part away. The magic just isn't there. The way in which a present is given can be as much a part of the gift as the gift itself. Especially for the kids.</div><div><br /></div><div>Case in point: last month, my in-laws gave my son his birthday present in a gigantic box. It was pure genius presentation, and walking through the door with a box that barely fit through it was a major part of the thrill for him. He whooped and danced and pranced around it, and thus the ceremony of opening his present had begun. When he tore the wrapping off the box and opened it, there was another box inside it. And then another. The comedy and build up of getting to the real present through a series of well-taped, sealed up boxes held marvelous tension and expectation for this boy. Would the present at the end be worth all this work? As the boxes became smaller and smaller, I could see doubt creep into his face, and sometimes even a hint of frustration that he hid well with a forced smile for Grandma (particularly when he got to the final envelope layered with packing tape!) and I could sense his growing question—what if what's inside is a huge let down? What if he keeps opening and opening and the final gift isn't worth it? Or worse, what if when the last box was opened, there is nothing in there at all?</div><div><br /></div><div>Luckily for him, it was worth it. It was an Amazon gift card buried and sealed at the end of all those boxes, and he whooped for joy again because that was exactly what he wanted. (Thanks Mom and Dad.)</div><div><br /></div><div>God gives us gifts like that, I think, where the wrapping is a part of the gift itself. He knows a lot about giving "good gifts" and that involves providing us with good wrapping paper. Christ comes to us in layers, revealed to us over time as we grow, like a series of nesting dolls.<span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">Jesus taught, "If a <span style="background-color: white;">son asks for bread from any father among you, will he give him a stone? Or if he asks</span><span style="background-color: white;"> for a fish, will he give him a serpent?" </span>(Luke 11:11) In truth, Christ is the</span> good gift from the Father. In fact, He is every good gift. He is everything we can ever get from the Father, be it stone, bread, fish, or serpent. Or how about all of them put together? Jesus Christ is the bread of life, but he is also the "stone of stumbling and rock of offense." (1 Peter 2:8) He is the fish that breaks our nets to overflowing, but he is also the serpent on the staff. He is everything we could ever want, and everything we never knew we needed.</div><div><br /></div><div>Christ reveals Himself not in a plastic bag with a receipt still attached, because His cost is truly beyond our comprehension, neither is His gift something that can be returned. He is not presented to us already reaching His full stature and glory on our baptism day. He is carefully wrapped, with layers of meaning and a lifetime of ritual. He is cloaked in a multitude of religious tensions and contradictions that alternately comfort and provoke us as we grow. This is as much a part of the gift as He Himself is. He is both the process and destination, the Alpha and the Omega. He is form <i>and</i> substance, both the wrapping and the gift. He reveals Himself to us most fully in His church, the Church of Jesus Christ with all the wrappings. He is found buried within a priesthood structure "after the order of the Son of God" that He specifically organized when He was on the earth, and that He chose to restore again through Joseph Smith. For whatever reason, He chooses to present Himself to us in the symbolism and layers of interpretation as found in priesthood ordinances and covenants. "In the ordinances thereof is the power of godliness made manifest." (D&C 84)</div><div><br /></div><div>A significant part of the wrapping is the church. This is a wrapping paper church consisting of the international body of Christ made up of its imperfect members. It is designed to match a spiritually diverse people and a broad spectrum of maturity and immaturity. For better or for worse, it matches us today. Christ presents Himself as the individualized unopened gift to every person who takes upon them His name. He matches our understanding and our yearning, and He grows only as fast as we do.</div><div><br /></div><div>My kids, when they were babies, always liked the wrapping paper best. They crinkled the paper and toddled off with the box, and sometimes the present itself was tossed aside or lost in the thrill of the tissue paper. What did they know about the cost of that Fischer-Price playset, or the possibilities of a remote control airplane? They were content with just the box. But as they grew older and matured, the expectation and joy over what was in the box grew, too. That is not unlike our experience with the Church of Jesus Christ. The box and wrapping that Christ reveals Himself in can be our initial intrigue, we might love the church before we love the Son whose church it is, but it is meant to point us to the real gift of Jesus Christ inside. Making the church the focus of the gift is a sign of spiritual immaturity.</div><div><br /></div><div>More and more, I am learning that our experience in the church of Jesus Christ is like unwrapping a present. Traditionally, we are a people who love ritual, tradition, and culture. In other words, we love the wrapping paper—the ward potlucks, the classic jokes over the pulpit, the holy foyer banter, the suits and ties and the big hairdos, the roadshows and dances, and all our recipes for green jello and funeral potatoes. Digging deeper we get to a more meaningful layer of the gift—our sacrament meetings, inspiring talks, and beautiful hymns; and a lifetime pledged to serve and minister "to the one" through countless callings and assignments, both formal and informal. But as my son learned on his birthday, we must keep unwrapping. As wonderful as it is, or as important as each box is, we are not at the gift yet. There are many more layers to go.</div><div><br /></div><div>Lately, we have been forced in this pandemic to peel the church back further and focus on the basic ordinances and covenants of our faith, even if it is just pieces of bread and cups of water on a paper plate in our living rooms while church meetings are on hold. But even those things, as sacred as they are to us, are only another layer of wrapping paper still to be removed in order to reveal what the gift truly is. Beneath the swaddling clothes and lying in the manger of all our sacraments, and waiting for us on the other side of that slightly parted veil that separates us like wrapping paper, is the final gift. The gift is Jesus Christ Himself.</div><div><br /></div><div>In the last year and a half, I have been unwrapping this present with renewed vigor, maybe even with some degree of desperation at times and because of some galling questions. We all have been forced to do this, I think, in one way or another. The church has been peeled back, and then it was peeled back some more. The time spent in our chapel-sized box was reduced, then taken away completely. The giant box we loved to play with has been unwrapped a little more and now the gift looks smaller and perhaps even unfamiliar to us. More simple. Less pomp and more circumstance. We are left with the expectation, the tension, and perhaps even the discomfort of wondering what might be left at the end of all this, how much further the unwrapping will go, and what will be revealed as the ultimate heart of our faith.</div><div><br /></div><div>The tension of opening yet another layer can be painful, especially when we need more than just showy wrapping paper and another box to get us through our trials. Some have gotten to this point—yet another box within a box within a box—and wondered if this process of unwrapping the Savior in the Church of Jesus Christ is really worth it. Who wrapped this thing, anyway? And why can't we just skip to end? Let Him appear to us now; we don't need Him to reveal Himself by degrees and clothed in ritual and metaphor. Sometimes, I admit, I just want to see <i>Him</i>. Yes, I have found some of His boxes beautiful, like that one experience I had at a youth camp, or that one lesson that was just what I needed to hear on that particular day, or my mission miracles, or that opportunity to serve that created a bond of love with someone completely unexpected. These are some good boxes. But as I grow, I know I need more than that. "Ask and ye shall receive." Turning my focus away from the wrapping paper and onto Christ has helped deepen my faith in the gift wrapping of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. My faith has grown in both the wrapping and in Christ as He reveals Himself to me in this church. He has helped me find joy again in it.</div><div><br /></div><div>I recognize that I am the type to pause and get caught up in admiring the shiny paper and beautiful patterns. In my discipleship, I know there have been times when I have focused so much on the wrapper and the pretty box that I forgot to keep on digging for the gift. Sometimes, like my kids used to do, I have toddled off with a piece of wrapping paper and called it Jesus. At least, I thought it was until I realized the wrapping I was holding wasn't enough to get me through a particular trial or question, and I had to go back to opening the gift further to find more.</div><div><br /></div><div>While some things about this church are beautiful and inspiring, we all can recognize that there are some boxes, cultural boxes, ones that are not divine but have been added by men to the unwrapping process. Others maybe weren't wrapped very well, like of the way I wrap a present with bulky corners and crooked paper and an ugly tape job. Some boxes are completely unhelpful. Learning to separate the godly from the ungodly, the good boxes from the bad in this church, is a part of the process.</div><div><br /></div><div>Sometimes we get to a box like my son did, and it is labelled Fischer-Price and we are turning 11 and we hate baby toys, and we wonder why Grandma and Grandpa would get us such a stupid present. Sometimes the gift wrapping of the church can feel like that, especially when we all parrot off baby milk questions, the kind we already know the answers to, and shy away from the harder, meatier questions that would make us grow and extend the margins of our understanding of who Christ is. I have even balked at boxes within boxes that I have come across labelled homophobia and patriarchy, as well as messy church history, and have almost stopped digging when I found them, because I couldn't imagine a Savior coming out of those particular boxes.</div><div><br /></div><div>But with faith and determination I still keep showing up. I keep unwrapping this gift I was given, and I keep finding more boxes. Some of those boxes are taped up tightly, impossibly so, like that envelope my son found at the end that was layered in packing tape. Because of the stubbornness of our traditions I am learning that some boxes, like patriarchy, aren't going to open until we are collectively trying to open them, and are collectively ready for them to open.</div><div><br /></div><div>But going through the process of unwrapping Christ with my questions has helped me grow. Most importantly it has connected me to someone who knows more about injustice and suffering and bureaucratic red tape than I ever could. I still feel powerless and without scissors to cut my way through these tightly sealed boxes, and sometimes I wonder if this must be it, the present of the Church of Jesus Christ is done giving. It can never open any further. And then I want to weep because sometimes the crinkling of opening this gospel gift has lost its joy and it sounds more and more like the crinkling of disillusionment, and I wonder why I wasted so much time opening this box labelled baby toys. Or maybe, as some warn me, it's anthrax. </div><div><br /></div><div>But we are not done unwrapping this gift yet. I have evidence based on the scriptures and on my own past experiences that there are so many things more beautiful and more healing to come, and in the latter days we need to work together to get to the end.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have discovered beauty and meaning in some wrapping paper I previously could not understand, or was even repulsed by. Truth grows by degrees, and so does light. I still have confusion with some of the wrapping, and some boxes I am convinced should never have been there in the first place. But this is not the end. The restoration is ongoing and the complete body of Christ is still making itself manifest, both in us and through us. And sometimes the wrapping paper is more like a mirror, a way to learn difficult things about ourselves.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am reminded over and over that the wrapping paper itself is not the gift. Even the most basic doctrines, the most essential ordinances from baptism to temple, are still just the wrapping paper to the eternal gift of Jesus Christ. How long does it take to get to the bottom of this? Will it ever end? Are we going to be stuck singing the millionth verse of "If You Could How to Kolob" forever because "there is no end to unwrapping?" Is the gift worth the struggle of opening it? And always there is this nagging question, "Will I leave this world having wasted my time on an empty box?"</div><div><br /></div><div>The most important thing I have learned as I persist to unwrap this present is that I am not only unwrapping my Savior, but I am also unwrapping myself. I am making discoveries, often painful ones, about who I am, and about my weaknesses and strengths. I am also learning my limitations, and how much I need Christ. I see myself reflected in the patterns, some that are ancient and others that are entirely new. I have found myself in the wrapping paper in ways that are sacred to me.</div><div><br /></div><div>Like the time I saw myself dressed in white with Becky in the temple, and we saw ourselves reflected eternally in those two mirrors on either side of that beautiful box that is a sealing room. We opened the box almost 15 years ago and learned, to our chagrin, that it may or may not have belonged to Pandora. We can never unopen that box—it has changed us forever in painful yet meaningful ways. As it turns out, it has not only been about getting to know Christ, but also about getting to know ourselves. It has been about learning love. It has been about finding connection to the Savior, less through joyful experiences than the painful ones, the kind that point me to His tokens of suffering and help me to hear, as Joseph Smith did in his hardest trial, a voice whispering to me, "Art thou greater than He?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Christ's gift to me is not just Himself, but what I can become through Him. The gift is Christ, but only as far as I allow Him to be made manifest in me. "Now we are children of God; and it has not yet been revealed what we shall be, but we know that when He is revealed, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is." (1 John 3:2)</div><div><br /></div><div>He is the good gift from the Father. The best gift, in fact. I know that sometimes we wonder why this box we are unwrapping is labelled a stone when we asked for bread, but as we keep going we may find out how much we needed a stone, too. We might give a little shriek to find a serpent box when we were really just hungry for fish, but then again we may learn how much we needed a serpent. As John teaches, the most surprising part of the gift may be to see ourselves reflected in it, that we will reflect His light when we finally get to the end of opening this thing. We will see Him with our own eyes and touch Him with our own hands, and it will be all the more glorious because of all we had to go through to get to Him, because when we thought we were unwrapping Him, we were also unwrapping our best selves. </div><div><br /></div><div>That is the best part of the gift.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Christopherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15437446356877845822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6611405196094714220.post-72051973739053037482021-09-10T19:51:00.025-06:002021-09-14T05:41:53.660-06:00Let There Be Light<p style="text-align: left;">"Love is a spectrum</p><p style="text-align: left;">of refracted light—</p><p style="text-align: left;">not sorting the world</p><p style="text-align: left;">into black and white."</p><p>We live in a world of dappled light. Nothing is ever perfectly bright, nor is it ever completely dark. It is a world of shadows, of waxing and waning cycles, of sunrises, of days that get longer and shorter, a mixture by degrees. I think it is also that way with ourselves. No one is completely good, nor is anyone ever completely bad. Nothing is ever black and white in a person. We are all a spectrum of light, and we fluctuate in cycles of increasing or decreasing light all of the time.</p><p>“Let there be light.” Separating the light from the darkness is a work that began at creation and is ongoing. I believe we are meant to be a part of that work with God today. Where do we start? Of course, we must start with ourselves. We begin by accepting that we are not all good or all bad, but that we are all growing, learning to differentiate the dark from the light by experiencing opposition in all things, and exercising our agency in order to discern better the light. Like the stones of the brother of Jared, we can sanctify and refine ourselves through repentance to better reflect the light of Christ. We make choices that can give more light to those around us, or take it away. Our choices are the prism that either lets the light through, or blocks it out.</p><p>Therefore, I believe it is no skill to point out the darkness in another person, since it exists in all of us in obvious ways. We are invited by Christ to withhold judgement against another, since we all live as creatures of darkness as well as creatures of light, and focusing on anothers’ mistakes usually makes us blind to our own. In a world of shadows, motes can look like beams, and beams can look like motes. Categorizing another person, especially ourselves, as either good or evil can cause us to lose focus on Christ, and all the ways he works through the shadows in us, separating our light from the darkness in our hearts. For that reason, it is dangerous to categorize even the most depraved person as entirely evil, neither can we consider the most righteous apostle as entirely good. Doing so minimizes the role of Jesus Christ. With Christ as our model of perfect light, we can all sort the light from the darkness around us.</p><p>Elder Holland’s recent talk at BYU has given me the opportunity to consider his light and mine, and sort out all the degrees of truth and error that exist inside both of us. It has made me recognize my need for more light in my discipleship, as I struggle to feel charity for people whose perspectives are different from mine, including the perspectives of many who have expressed their polarizing opinions about what he said about SSA on social media. And it has also caused me to consider how Elder Holland, in my opinion, imperfectly reflected the light of Christ in his words.</p><p>There has been a flurry of reactions across social media as people rush to either defend or demonize him because of what he said. From what I have seen, most people are determined to take his talk and categorize it as inspired word of God come down from Sinai, or as hateful spite. As light, or as dark. But I see his words as neither. I have read his words and see some light in them, as well as some dark. Some of the things he said did not give light to what it means for me to be a gay latter-day saint. Some words were clumsy at best, and hurtful at worst. But what can I do when I find the words of an apostle troubling, or when I find myself disagreeing with him? Is it allowed to disagree with an apostle?</p><p>I believe our task is to use revelation, not to blindly accept everything, nor to reject it entirely, but to wrestle with what he said in order to find truth, and to separate the light from the dark, and to do so in a way that allows us to continue to love and sustain those imperfect people who are called to represent the Lord.</p><p>On many occasions, I have felt light and truth in the words of Elder Holland. Once, eleven years ago, my wife and I sat in his office in Salt Lake City by his invitation to share our experience about same sex attraction. We felt of his love and light. Since then, many of his conference talks have filled me with feelings of light. I personally believe he is a seer and revelator, and special witness of Jesus Christ. But that doesn’t mean I believe everything he says is insightful or prophetic. In his recent address at BYU I felt his genuine love and concern for those with SSA, but I also found some words that did not fill me with light, some things that in fact felt very dark to me, and that I disagreed with based on my personal experience with SSA. </p><p>Disagreeing, in this instance, does not mean I must throw away all the good things I know and have felt from him in the past. I know that he is not perfect, nor does he claim to be. Why would I try to join the clamor in social media that has chosen to create simplistic narratives of this apostle in order to categorize him as either the infallible prophet, or as depraved hater of gays? He is neither. He is a mortal man chosen and ordained to testify of Christ, and I believe he is doing his best. I choose to sustain him, and I forgive him for the same reasons I have to forgive myself—so that Christ can continue to work through flawed servants, that the light in both him and me can continue to grow. As Elder Holland said, “Imperfect people are all God has ever had to work with. That must be terribly frustrating to Him, but He deals with it. So should we.”</p><p>Elder Holland continues to explain: “And when you see imperfection, remember that the limitation is not in the divinity of the work. As one gifted writer has suggested, when the infinite fulness is poured forth, it is not the oil’s fault if there is some loss because finite vessels can’t quite contain it all. Those finite vessels include you and me, so be patient and kind and forgiving.”</p><p>I believe in the “divinity of the work” because I know that there is room in Christ for me. At times many of us, especially LGBT members, may feel like a drop of oil that is spilled from the sides of the imperfect vessel that is the church of Jesus Christ, its members and leaders. The darkness of homophobia and misunderstanding is difficult for many members and leaders to understand because most members and leaders do not know what it feels like to be gay. But over and over again, I have found that in spite of the limitations of the members in this church, there is room in Christ for me. There is room for you. I have a testimony that we can all fit in with Christ because of the bonds of perfect love, forgiveness, and infinite atonement. </p><p>For anyone who has felt like the finite vessel of the Church of Jesus Christ doesn’t contain them and their life’s experiences, I believe that as you share your light, like the stone touched by the finger of Jesus in the barges of the Jaredites you can help illuminate the shadows that persist in His church. You can make the broken vessel of His church more whole. The church can expand to become more inclusive—and is prophesied that it will; it will fill the whole earth. We have seen it happen, even in our lifetimes. The tent of the gospel will grow, but only as far as we, the marginalized, are able to stay in it. You can help others see what you see with the light you have worked hard to find. In my mind, that is the best way to “deal with it.”</p><p>I choose to continue to love and accept others in the LGBT community, exactly how they are, even when I disagree with some of them. I choose to love and accept myself, exactly how I am, even when I don’t always measure up. And I choose to love and accept Elder Holland, exactly as he is, even when he makes mistakes. We are all imperfect vessels trying to hold the light of Christ, and sometimes we spill, but we always have the potential to increase in our ability to shine the light of Christ and love others better and better “until the perfect day.” </p><p>I will also continue to sustain Elder Holland as an apostle by adding my light to his, and by shining my light on any dark he might have by sharing my experiences as a gay latter-day Saint as best I can, and in a way that works for me. To me that is what sustaining means. We all have something to share, a light that is uniquely ours, and by abiding in Christ it will grow until there isn’t any darkness left in this lonely, complicated world of shadows we live in.</p>Christopherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15437446356877845822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6611405196094714220.post-61192579309538975902021-08-15T19:55:00.001-06:002023-05-05T19:58:02.802-06:00The Prophet Said to Plant a Garden<p><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRuXP7cGmil0FfbDg3pcq6MdW970_IpGZMyUcpyKaUbycPHLUfic2lJ_iLnBaYznhKWcldXLRA6tUiCq81RAVjhvn7EVFa3Xe27ItIcQ9SV3GF5Caz7RmVBBBMf1VCmANTsX_MUMSsFeEe_4hagQUYvr5gV0nh7vHHPoJsmoSkbJDG17mpFIbTecDo3A/s344/Radishes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="344" data-original-width="304" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRuXP7cGmil0FfbDg3pcq6MdW970_IpGZMyUcpyKaUbycPHLUfic2lJ_iLnBaYznhKWcldXLRA6tUiCq81RAVjhvn7EVFa3Xe27ItIcQ9SV3GF5Caz7RmVBBBMf1VCmANTsX_MUMSsFeEe_4hagQUYvr5gV0nh7vHHPoJsmoSkbJDG17mpFIbTecDo3A/s320/Radishes.jpg" width="283" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />When I was growing up, every spring there was a family home evening in which we would get dragged outside to plant a garden. Our opening song, of course, would be, "The prophet said to plant a garden so that's what we'll do!" And we really had no other explanation except for that.</span><p></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-b5e169b7-7fff-d008-23b8-d4635956ce85"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The way we talked about it, I used to think it was about preparing for the Apocalypse. We had to learn to grow a measly row of potatoes and onions in case of a future famine, war, or some other physical crisis. It was always a little awkward when we tried to salvage a survivor bean or raspberry and realize we were toast in an actual famine. But as the world becomes more uncertain, institutional safeguards fail, and especially as climate change becomes more and more obvious, I don't discount that explanation at all.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">But since I have started picking up the gardening tradition again the past couple of years (I am not an expert gardener yet, by any means) I have decided that for me, gardening has been more of a protection against spiritual disaster than a physical one.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I have learned things digging around in the dirt. I have learned about living sustainably, and most difficult of all, all the ways I need to repent. I have learned about diversity. Respect. Humility. I have learned about the conditions required for abundance. I have seen how our spiritual pollution accumulates until it manifests as physical pollution, and how toxins build up over time until they make us sick. I have learned that you reap what you sow. Most of all, I have learned that all life is a miracle. Even weeds.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I confess that these lessons are not easy for me to hold onto in a world hell-bent on depleting every resource available for a dollar, and exhausting every speck of my energy to be a consumer of products. I know that I am complicit in all kinds of devilish systems, and I feel powerless in the face of them. But for me, for a few months of the year at least, I garden. I defy the wasteland and pluck peas. I believe President Benson was right, but not for the reasons I though, or perhaps even the reasons he thought. We need more gardens. It is healing. It is connection. It is hope.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">In the end, I believe we are not all that different from a carrot or a strawberry. "Dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return." I believe that we are actually just complicated plants that once broke free from the dirt and are now stuck walking, rooting our way back to earth, severed from the womb until we eventually wilt and withdraw back into it. The harvest is a part of that cycle. So is the burning. But spring comes again.</span></span></p><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div></span>Christopherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15437446356877845822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6611405196094714220.post-69930924259620319182021-07-19T19:28:00.113-06:002021-08-31T09:51:02.358-06:00Spiritual Scientist<p>Like many latter-day saints, I was taught in the church that the way to know if something is true or not is if it <i>feels right. </i>In talks and lessons I was told that the Holy Ghost speaks with a voice that we <i>feel </i>more than we hear, and so I learned how to "listen with my heart" and to trust my feelings. I believed that I could <i>feel</i> my way back to Heavenly Father. Growing up happy in the gospel as an easygoing and sensitive young boy, I quickly felt that the gospel was true, and that was enough. It was, I suppose, a great way to start learning about faith.</p><p>However, by the time I was a teenager, I started having some new feelings. These were confusing feelings, because they went against the teachings of the church, the scriptures, and the covenant path that I was expected to follow. These feelings were sexual attractions towards men. If feelings were really the way back to God, what on earth was I supposed to do with these ones?</p><p>I soon found myself at a crossroads between two contradictory feelings: my love for the church on the one hand, and my desire for a same-sex relationship on the other. Choosing between them was excruciatingly difficult. The two feelings seemed irreconcilable. How could I choose which feeling was right? Finding a way forward meant I had to look for a different path to find truth besides relying solely on my feelings to point the way.</p><p>I was just starting seminary when all this happened, and in the scriptures I made a surprising discovery: <i>they didn't teach me to rely on my feelings.</i> The scriptures did speak about feelings, of course—the "gospel of peace" (Ephesians 6) and the "happy state of those who keep the commandments" (Mosiah 2:41) 'the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace" (Galatians 5:22) etc. But those feelings corresponded to a confirmation, one that generally comes "after the trial of thy faith." (Ether 12:6) Feelings from the Holy Ghost can be a part of the process of learning truth by faith, but spiritual feelings are not the process itself.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHMc_IR08bydzqgTp7QEOAl0ac2v1XonPOXMrNAapuGuG1Vth7DOnyVpUUK9xQK1JnAmxAEYyrkhxkUABMTiDT9-veb-4dLCIjnH3JBMuCL15fkOXyzFjPG6NEAZydmQSft2MVaQ64qN_D/s2048/microscope.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1432" height="274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHMc_IR08bydzqgTp7QEOAl0ac2v1XonPOXMrNAapuGuG1Vth7DOnyVpUUK9xQK1JnAmxAEYyrkhxkUABMTiDT9-veb-4dLCIjnH3JBMuCL15fkOXyzFjPG6NEAZydmQSft2MVaQ64qN_D/w192-h274/microscope.jpg" width="192" /></a></div>So what is the process?<p></p><p>In the scriptures, I read that God invites me to "prove [Him] now herewith" (Malachi 3:10) and to "experiment on the word" (Alma 32:7) in order to find out for myself "if these things are not true." (Moroni 10:4) The invitation to find spiritual truths sounded not all that different from the scientific method I was learning about in high school.</p><p>I began to realize that living by faith is not always the same as following your heart. While expressing and receiving validation for my feelings in healthy ways was and is an important part of my mental health, it is not the way to accurately measure spiritual truths. We are taught that God speaks to us in our "mind and in our heart (D&C 8:2) and both methods are sources of <i>external</i> evidence that go beyond regular and expected human emotions. I read that faith is "the evidence of things that are not seen." (Hebrews.11:1) Faith is the "substance" of my hope, not merely hopeful feelings that come and go. </p><p>In saying this, I don't mean that faith is meant to invalidate our feelings, but to contextualize them, to help us to see ourselves beyond what we may feel at a particular moment. To a teenage boy, all this pointed me to evidences outside of myself, and motivated me to seek for faithful ways to reconcile my testimony with my sexuality. I did not have to choose one over the other. This empowered me at a time when I was trapped in a cycle of crippling fear and anxiety about who I was.</p><p>I have now come to believe that we do a disservice when we tell members who are struggling with their faith to simply follow their feelings. What if they deal with depression or anxiety? What if they feel like there is no place for them in the church? What if they feel like Heavenly Father couldn't possibly love them because of something they did? What if they feel not good enough? What if they feel disillusioned when they read criticisms about the church? How do we help each other reconcile feelings when they conflict with the gospel of Jesus Christ?</p><p>I believe that we must do better at teaching what faith really is—<i>that it is</i> <i>not a feeling</i>. It is a proactive choice to move forward in the dark, often without a clear witness of what the outcome will be. It is not about requiring or expecting a particular emotion as we do this. Sometimes we feel nothing, or even negative emotions as we move forward in the gospel—at least initially. While we should find ways to work through our feelings, whatever they may be, and seek to validate them as needed, sometimes with the help of a mental health professional, we can and must also learn to separate our mortal, transient feelings from our faith. When spiritual questions arise, as they are bound to do, God's invitation for us is to become a spiritual scientist with Him, and to engage directly with the evidence for ourselves. <b>Like science, questions without answers is how the process of faith begins.</b></p><p>C.S. Lewis wrote that faith is "the art of holding on to things your reason has once accepted, in spite of your changing moods." This is good counsel, especially for me at a time in my life when my feelings were frequently tied to my hormones. My feelings about God and His love for me, or that my church is guided by revelation, or that keeping my covenants is worth it—all of these have fluctuated greatly. The strength of my faith is not measured in my ability to feel blissful about something indefinitely. I am a human being. Even now, sometimes my testimony burns brightly within me and I feel it strongly, and other times it dims down to almost nothing. My feelings can be easily affected by what I read in my social media feed on a particular day, or by the actions or doubts of those close to me. But as I consider the evidence, giving it more weight than I do my unstable feelings and mortal biases, my perspective changes. I go from passive feeler and consumer of faith to an active participant in my own spiritual experiment—changing from an object to be acted upon, to an agent to act. (2 Nephi 2:26)</p><p><b>I believe strongly that science and faith are both evidence based belief systems. </b>The evidence is measured differently of course, with faith being the gathering of "evidence of things <i>not </i>seen"—the kind of things that may end up in a <i>personal</i> journal, as opposed to observable results that may end up in a <i>scientific</i> journal—but they both take us outside of our own bias, attempting to suspend our own preconceived ideas in order to measure the results that come only after rigorous testing. Furthermore, faith and science both invite others to replicate the experiment to determine the validity of the findings.</p><p>In both science and faith, evidence is not the same as proof. This is an important distinction, because they can be easily confused. It is neither the intent of science nor religion to prove anything. Anyone looking for proof in either the scientific world or religious one can lose their way in the experiment, and usually end up relying on simplistic narratives, avoidance of difficult questions, and a reliance on prepackaged platitudes and dogmatic certainties. This happens when we fall off either side of faith, as either rigid non-believer or rigid believer.</p><p>The underlying cause for demanding proof is always pride, and both disciples and scientists are vulnerable to it. If you refuse to change your mind or your heart in spite of growing evidence, you are no longer participating in the experiment with the humility that both discipleship and scientific research demands.</p><p>Nothing is ever settled, and one always recognizes the possibility of human error, but just as a scientist cannot throw away the weight of centuries of scientific evidence to make his own way, neither can the faithful treat lightly the weight of the recorded scriptural evidence from the great spiritual scientists: Moses, Isaiah, Nephi, Joseph Smith, and of course, the teachings of Jesus Christ. There is unity in their theories and incredible evidence to their works, and to ignore them in order to create one's own theory for living is the spiritual equivalent of dismissing Einstein as irrelevant in order to write your own equations and develop your own theories of moral relativity.</p><p>In my experience, when there are contradictions in faith, as there always are, this is an indication there is a need for further testing and experimenting. I have dealt firsthand with many troubling things in the church, and I have grappled with uncertainty and inconsistency for many years. Everyone must address them in their own way as they come up in their own lives. For me, these inconsistencies and contradictions are an invitation to move out of the classroom and into the laboratory. Go to it, Christopher. Try the Lord. See if He delivers on His promises. </p><p>These crises of faith may even be a sign that God believes in you enough to go beyond the theory of the classroom in order to do your own fieldwork. After a long struggle, the moment when we get to shout "Eureka!" for ourselves after grappling with a painful question becomes even more sweet and meaningful than if the answers were handed to us without ever having to engage in the process for ourselves.</p><p>The scriptures and living prophets provide us with the evidence we are asked to consider. It is the "evidence of things not seen." It isn't just whether we <i>feel</i> it is true or not. It is a matter of historical record. For example, the Book of Mormon itself is adamant that it is not just a book about feelings. It was extracted as tangible evidence written on gold that God remembers to keep His promises to gather His people. While we can believe or disbelieve the evidence, we cannot discount its existence.</p><p>I worry sometimes that many, especially faithful church members, talk about the whole gospel experience as some kind of "feeling" rather than simply accepting faith for what it is: an invitation to engage head on with the spiritual evidence offered to us. Faith is step 1 in the gospel, to study and "experiment on the word. The feelings and witness of the Holy Ghost do not normally come until step 4. This is a cycle that repeats itself with every new hypothesis that arises in our lives.</p><p>I also admit to feeling alarmed, even more so lately, that the religious people around me have even gone so far as to make their <i>feelings</i> the measuring stick for scientific claims, and even the key to interpreting current events. There is a reason why church members are frequently duped by baseless nutrition fads, vaccine hesitancy, and conspiracy theories. More than ever before, evidence is losing its importance in our society as we learn to filter it through our feelings and preconceived beliefs, preferring to believe only in the things that resonate best with us and rejecting the rest. Perhaps this is because we have been taught at church to believe that our feelings have more weight than the evidence. But how a person <i>feels</i> about controversial topics such as vaccines, or the presidential election, or a piece of spurious Mormon folklore, church history, or whether the earth is flat or round, is irrelevant. Spiritual truth, but also and especially scientific and historical truth, is ultimately determined by evidence, not by our feelings.</p><p>For my part, I take seriously the evidence of the historical record in the scriptures. I have read the witness of those that handled the golden plates and I believe their words have weight that cannot be dismissed. I also have read the written record of my grandparents and other ancestors who have gone before me, men and women who have tested the theories of the gospel against all odds and found them to be good, and wrote about their experiences. I have the monthly witness of people who live in my little neighborhood who get up on fast and testimony meeting to (hopefully) share real evidence from their own lives the truths they have learned in their own spiritual experiments. When my experience contradicts their evidence (which it does more than a few times) I can do my own fieldwork and find out for myself "whether it be from God, or whether [they] speak for [themselves.]" (John 7:17) Sometimes I change my mind, and sometimes I have to wait for others to change theirs.</p><p>For me, being gay and a faithful member of the church has been a very tricky experiment. I learned early on that while I do not necessarily need to follow my feelings, they cannot and should not be ignored. My attractions to men have not changed, and likely will not ever change as long as I have a mortal body to feel them with. To be clear, I am not advocating that anyone stuff away their feelings in order to live by faith. These feelings are what make us human, and denying them can lead to very real psychological damage. But, for me, there is always a way to keep my feelings "within the bounds the Lord has set."</p><p>By following along in this gospel experiment, I have learned that there is a kind of freedom that comes from "schooling my feelings" rather than letting them take control of my life. I interpret that phrase to mean I can take my feelings to school with me in my discipleship classroom in order to study them. I can be curious about them, let myself feel them without feeling shame, and I read in the scriptures and from the words of living prophets about other similar tests of faith, and see how my "truth" fits into the other truths I am learning about in the gospel. I have discovered some surprising results.</p><p>The first finding is that the church, speaking both generally as a culture and also ecclesiastically is, most definitely, not always right. Leaders and even prophets themselves can sometimes go amiss, especially about secular things—things like the age of the earth, the origin of man, or the origin of sexual attractions. We don't believe in infallible prophets, but for some reason we act like we do. </p><p>Instead, I have learned that God will "yet reveal many great and important things pertaining to the Kingdom of God." That means that incorrect doctrines, beliefs, and traditions will necessarily fall away and be replaced with more revealed truths. I do not have insight on what those changes will be, but I do believe this will be a painful process, and pride exists now in the church as it has at every other time when God has had a people. We cling to false gods and wicked traditions of our fathers as much as any other Israelite nation, and God will teach us, one way or another, how to repent. Refusing to give up these "wicked traditions" will scatter us as it always does, and regrettably it usually ends up hurting the most vulnerable. At times, they have hurt me. The church's policies, and especially the cultural practices in the church about homosexuality, past and present, have sometimes been wrong. There is clear evidence to support that. And so there is no reason to believe that we have it all figured out now.</p><p>But I have a growing body of evidence, supported and cross referenced by the literature, that I truly have a resurrected Savior who knows how to succor His people. I have evidence that God does His work of salvation in this church in spite of the imperfect people who run it. I have evidence that the "power of godliness" is manifest in the ordinances of the priesthood. (D&C 84:20) I have the witness of many miracles in my own life that I have recorded and refer to when my feelings try to take me away from my covenants and my Savior. I have a considerable amount of evidence, from my own life and from the records of my ancestors, that keeping temple covenants brings blessings. I have a growing witness that I am truly a son of God, and that I fit into His divine patterns of family even with my same-sex attraction. </p><p>On the other hand, I also have a large body of evidence that not everyone in the LGBT community finds their place in this church. In fact, most do not. Right now, the evidence suggests to me that this is not due to Christ's failure as a shepherd, or due to the lack of faith of latter-day saints with SSA or are transgendered (the faithfulness of our LGBT members who try their hardest to stay is overwhelming) but it is mostly due to our faith communities' lack of charity, our many insensitive cultural practices and teachings, and, regrettably, our persistent, lingering homophobia.</p><p>All this is based on my own experience. I recognize that there is enough evidence for another person to arrive at a different conclusion. There is more experimenting to be done. But I think, for now, God is content to leave some things open to interpretation. Too much evidence one way could be taken as proof, and this would remove our need to exercise faith and be tested, and the way we interpret and interact with the evidence often says more about us than it does about the evidence itself. The evidences we choose to ignore or step over in order to support our own ideas can condemn both the believer and non-believer equally well. I also recognize that as a gay man who has chosen to marry and been able to stay committed to his wife and children, I have considerable bias that shows up in my findings.</p><p>My feelings, all of them, are still an important part of who I am. I am grateful for the problem that brought me to test my initial hypothesis, which was to find out if a gay person like myself can belong to the body of Christ as much as a straight one. Nothing is proven yet, but I have more evidence now than I did when I started. I also have evidence that the church will need to make adjustments, some of them major ones, in order to make this happen better.</p><p>But in the end, Christ's invitation is always for all to "come and see." Come see the bubbling test tubes of a consecrated life, and look into the microscopes of His laboratory for yourself. Take samples from your own soul and bring them to the lab to decode them and decipher and see how they fit into Christ's tapestry of atonement. Read deeply and consistently from the published and peer-reviewed literature of the scriptures, whose authors "delight in plainness." They are written for us to understand. Come fit your story into the greater gospel conversation, and see if it broadens your understanding of eternal truths.</p><p>Whether it is same-sex attraction, depression, anxiety, or any other lens that comes with a particular set of feelings that affects the way we see the world, we always need more spiritual scientists. I believe that taking our place as scientists of faith will help us reconcile every valid and human feeling with the gospel of Christ to create a more perfect and inclusive theory of faith, one that will lead us toward greater unity.</p><p>There are some clinical trials that seem to test us beyond our mortal limits, but I have personal evidence that we are working under our Savior Jesus Christ, who is the greatest scientist of all, the Creator of the world. He has already worked out for each of us the unique equations in Gethsemane, and He won't give up on any of us until we all get it right. I believe this with all my mind, and also with all my heart.</p>Christopherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15437446356877845822noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6611405196094714220.post-56142245811781793772021-07-04T19:40:00.001-06:002023-05-05T19:48:19.158-06:00Hiking after the Fire<p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_R88WKLRLAdFZ77Z2PAXJf0G3DN8X-vK2HWwDJT1f3RoWFDAF0SfJLtVGh71DaEuj4sJwkfXSA44ytQP8sntqzbvJvC4DoWU5Dy1mMX1RONqneCoIM7pIt9hp3j10F2K-7KDGSAuk_f_j2tjKveYUpWaIkKJ4dk0NSwlF-BFDPpuEpkXxwBmVtJFFoQ/s1292/Forest%20fire.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="969" data-original-width="1292" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_R88WKLRLAdFZ77Z2PAXJf0G3DN8X-vK2HWwDJT1f3RoWFDAF0SfJLtVGh71DaEuj4sJwkfXSA44ytQP8sntqzbvJvC4DoWU5Dy1mMX1RONqneCoIM7pIt9hp3j10F2K-7KDGSAuk_f_j2tjKveYUpWaIkKJ4dk0NSwlF-BFDPpuEpkXxwBmVtJFFoQ/w640-h480/Forest%20fire.png" width="640" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />The first thing that hits you is the silence. There is no buzzing, no nattering or background chirping. The trees might as well be posts in the ground. Even four years later, they are locked in a silent scream. The experience is inorganic. It could be the moon. It is the silent numbness that comes before the mourning. It is apocalyptic, like the eerie silence after a nuclear bomb, of twisted metal and melted glass.</span><p></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-4e4f1045-7fff-5f2f-99a3-cb6a7869c40e"><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #050505; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It is hard to describe the difference between this kind of silence and the one that existed before it, the quiet growing. It is a sound that is felt more than heard. How does one measure the decibels of a thousand inaudible conversations between trees, or the quiet construction sounds of light being framed diligently into lumber? How might you record the sound of a butterfly's wings as it zips from flower to flower in the dappled light of a meadow? Or calculate the silent tension of animals hiding in the thick undergrowth, watching and waiting? All I can say is you notice it when it's gone.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #050505; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I wander off the path for a while and note that, even now, it is like walking through an ashtray. My son takes considerable joy out of kicking the soot up, and it follows behind us like a mist. The delicious smells of decay and growing, of sharp pine and humus, are replaced with stale memories. All oxygen that flows into our lungs is imported. The air is without satisfaction. The welcome shade of the trees is gone, and we are exposed to the scorching sky.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #050505; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I think to myself, How impatient, how unyieldingly cruel is a forest fire! I see how it leapt from tree to tree, sparing none, no time to fully consume any of them. It leaves them all behind, humiliated and with their skin still burnt and hanging. It has no regard for centuries of painstaking labor. It is a stone through a stained glass window, an arsonist let loose at an art gallery, a pillager without mercy. It takes so little time, so little effort to undo all that has been done here. Entire ecosystems falter to its destructive power, and the wildlife dwindles. Fireweed rushes in like a uniform to cover the shame of the naked earth that was once teeming with so much diversity. </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #050505; font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">A forest in a fire crumples like a Rembrandt or a van Gogh. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #050505; font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">But a forest is not really a piece of art anyway. It is a drama. Every child knows that both failure and redemption is written into the storyline. You can't have a good story without the struggle and the setback. Every villain has their day, every forbidden fruit is eventually eaten, and every child of God will yield to the animal inside them. But with fires so in life, there is always a resolution, however long or painful it might be.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #050505; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Time is grace, and seeds that lay dormant for years awake to weave new tapestries out of ancient patterns. Saplings rise all around me directly beside the bones of their ancestors, and old things are made new. Nutrients that were locked away in the forest canopy are returning again to the matrix of the soil to give life back to the young. Earth proves her power once more because in a forest there can be no real Armageddon. Only rebirth. </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #050505; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">You can always find hope in a forest.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #050505; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Nevertheless, it has taken me four years to write down the nagging question I have held onto ever since I beheld the aftermath: What if this is all more than metaphor? The Kenow fire in Waterton was caused by chance lightning that fell from the sky, but I still remember how dry it was that year, and how long the clouds held onto the rain. What if the fire wasn't meant to be? What if it was our fault? This year is already so dry. Record breakingly so. Is there a lightning bolt from heaven in store for us? Do fires, floods, earthquakes, wars and rumors of wars, seas heaving themselves beyond their bounds always come as part of a natural cycle? Are we following a natural course? When will my forest fire come?</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #050505; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The whole world feels like kindling now, and all around me I see sparks. We know the world is getting warmer, but even more than this I fear indifference, hubris, greed, and our insane divisions that are more persistent than ever as we retreat more and more to our fortresses. The world is drying up. Our abuses toward the earth, toward each other, could be reaching a point of no return. What happens when we no longer see the forest for the trees, when our collective spirit fades? Will rebellion always be given a second chance? Is it already too late to stop the blazes?</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #050505; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I know I am prone to melodrama, and not everything is as it seems. A fire is, after all, just a fire. Life heals itself. I return home sunburned and filled, hug and kiss my kids who race to meet me at the door, and run for my son a bath. Everything looks like it will be alright. But even here, safe in our fire-insured home, I can picture a lightning storm in a dry space, see it strike in my own dry heart, and I wonder if I am really trained to put out this kind of fire.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #050505; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOiGrfKq669BkkY5uYmBh2GoHm0loyHlRoYQDpxI6hVccTjHV3b0LQrawen_RKkPo1LWnMMGEzuqHlyAb1mTvfiFFrrBmYfMjJZPPOlQQKy_UgBp2zUo6HmM2yg9Z7q-oDAX90Z0cVXwLA5fZkHrF2ulRtfEDGHxBY-zEe4biAGcOKbQ9UTkqVN1-7Ug/s969/Trees.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="969" data-original-width="642" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOiGrfKq669BkkY5uYmBh2GoHm0loyHlRoYQDpxI6hVccTjHV3b0LQrawen_RKkPo1LWnMMGEzuqHlyAb1mTvfiFFrrBmYfMjJZPPOlQQKy_UgBp2zUo6HmM2yg9Z7q-oDAX90Z0cVXwLA5fZkHrF2ulRtfEDGHxBY-zEe4biAGcOKbQ9UTkqVN1-7Ug/s320/Trees.jpg" width="212" /></a></div><br /><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 6pt 0pt 0pt 0pt;"><br /></p><br /></span>Christopherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15437446356877845822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6611405196094714220.post-57524727495680303362021-05-21T12:37:00.027-06:002021-05-21T15:18:27.442-06:00Where, When I Languish<p><b> </b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF3VWVblo6A8fPqgXVKmIrC6NJPhyphenhyphenRMtIzdHcM5s_yCd14U7MPNqZ6pyFKMN8X9Yw2LLy8XtM2EooxJkF2B4Nyr0LyZ4XKsELwzY74pheOCUBWQS-U5ymgUE0fvxoYln6NnIZ6FP0HL3l8/s1836/winter+sucks.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="937" data-original-width="1836" height="326" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF3VWVblo6A8fPqgXVKmIrC6NJPhyphenhyphenRMtIzdHcM5s_yCd14U7MPNqZ6pyFKMN8X9Yw2LLy8XtM2EooxJkF2B4Nyr0LyZ4XKsELwzY74pheOCUBWQS-U5ymgUE0fvxoYln6NnIZ6FP0HL3l8/w640-h326/winter+sucks.jpg" width="640" /></a></b></div><b><br /></b><span face=""Google Sans", arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #202124;"><b>lan·guish</b> </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">verb</i><p></p><div class="lW8rQd" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; display: flex; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><div class="L1jWkf U3R6Ke" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: normal;"><div aria-hidden="true" class="xpdxpnd" data-mh="-1" jsname="jUIvqc" style="max-height: 0px; overflow: hidden; transition: max-height 0.3s ease 0s;"><span class="BNl2gb" style="color: #70757a;"><b></b></span><span class="BNl2gb" style="color: #70757a;"><b></b></span><span class="BNl2gb" style="color: #70757a;"><b></b></span><span class="BNl2gb" style="color: #70757a;"><b></b></span><span class="BNl2gb" style="color: #70757a;"><b></b></span></div></div></div><ol class="eQJLDd" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; display: flex; flex-direction: column; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 20px;"><li jsname="gskXhf" style="list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><div class="vmod"><div class="thODed eO6Jqe L1jWkf" style="line-height: normal; padding-top: 10px;"><div data-topic="" jsname="cJAsRb"><div style="float: left;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">1</span>.</div><div style="margin-left: 20px;"><div class="L1jWkf h3TRxf" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: normal;"><div data-dobid="dfn" style="display: inline;">(of a person or other living thing) lose or lack vitality; grow weak or feeble.</div></div></div></div><div style="margin-left: 20px;"><div style="margin-left: -13px;"><ul style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><li aria-hidden="true" class="xpdxpnd" data-mh="-1" data-topic="" jsname="z0mti" style="list-style: none; margin: 0px; max-height: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; transition: max-height 0.3s ease 0s;"><div class="csWlI AgHEyd" id="_TtKnYJufNYP3-gTQ_oCQCg42" style="display: list-item; font-size: xx-small; list-style-type: disc; margin-left: 25px; padding-top: 5px;"><div class="L1jWkf h3TRxf" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: normal;"><div data-dobid="dfn" style="display: inline;"></div><div class="vmod"><div class="H9KYcb" style="color: #70757a;"></div></div></div></div></li><li aria-hidden="true" class="xpdxpnd" data-mh="-1" data-topic="" jsname="z0mti" style="list-style: none; margin: 0px; max-height: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; transition: max-height 0.3s ease 0s;"><div class="csWlI AgHEyd" id="_TtKnYJufNYP3-gTQ_oCQCg44" style="display: list-item; font-size: xx-small; list-style-type: disc; margin-left: 25px; padding-top: 5px;"><div class="L1jWkf h3TRxf" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: normal;"><div><span class="mQo3nc SV5YOc hsL7ld" style="background-color: #f8f9fa; border-radius: 2px; display: inline-block; font-size: 10px; line-height: 18px; margin-right: 6px; margin-top: -1px; padding: 0px 6px; text-transform: uppercase;"></span></div><div data-dobid="dfn" style="display: inline;"></div><div class="vmod"><div class="H9KYcb" style="color: #70757a;"><b></b></div></div><div class="qFRZdb" data-dsk="true" data-dtpe="false" data-nlm="true" data-requery="false" jsaction="rcuQ6b:npT2md;Lesnae:X4aiyd;KyPa0e:yJjTGf;SJu0Rc:pnFSEb;NAozHc:Gmtrjd" jscontroller="PDhHxc"><div class="P2Dfkf vmod SkSOXb" jsname="KM35l" style="max-height: 30px; overflow: hidden; position: relative;"><div class="bqVbBf jfFgAc CqMNyc" jsname="deRYT" role="list" style="display: flex; flex-wrap: wrap; max-width: 100%; padding-right: 24px;"><div aria-hidden="true" class="k6UgDb" style="flex-basis: 100%; height: 0px; overflow: hidden; width: 0px;"></div><div class="qFRZdb"><div class="q3q3Oc KZ5T1 vmod s305xe YS49ff" style="display: inline-block; font-size: 13px; height: 24px; letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 2px; margin-right: 8px; margin-top: 6px;"><div class="pdpvld" style="color: #188038;"></div></div></div><div data-mh="-1" role="listitem"><div class="EmSASc gWUzU F5z5N jEdCLc LsYFnd p9F8Cd cO53qb rjpYgb gjoUyf" jsname="F457ec" style="background-color: #f8f9fa; border-radius: 32px; border: 1px solid rgb(248, 249, 250); color: #bdc1c6; cursor: text; display: inline-block; float: left; font-size: 13px; height: 22px; line-height: 22px; margin-right: 4px; margin-top: 6px; max-width: 250px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px 12px; position: relative; text-align: center; text-overflow: ellipsis; white-space: nowrap;"></div><div aria-hidden="true" class="gWUzU MR2UAc F5z5N AsWFZc Inx6Z I6a0ee En7IMd rjpYgb gjoUyf" data-ved="2ahUKEwib_q-GjNvwAhWDu54KHVA_AKIQ8Y0DMAB6BAgCECY" jsaction="Aq3Esf" jsname="Stv3Z" style="background-origin: content-box; background-position: 50% 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat; border-radius: 32px; border: 1px solid rgb(218, 220, 224); cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; height: 22px; line-height: 22px; margin-right: -24px; margin-top: 6px; outline: 0px; position: relative; white-space: nowrap; width: 22px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="-1"><span class="D1MTm dZmT4d z1asCe bjaP2b" style="color: #70757a; display: inline-block; fill: currentcolor; height: 20px; line-height: 20px; margin: 1px; position: relative; width: 20px;"><svg focusable="false" viewbox="0 0 24 24" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><path d="M7.41 8.59L12 13.17l4.59-4.58L18 10l-6 6-6-6 1.41-1.41z"></path></svg></span></div></div><div data-mh="-1" role="listitem"><div class="EmSASc gWUzU F5z5N jEdCLc LsYFnd p9F8Cd cO53qb rjpYgb gjoUyf" jsname="F457ec" style="background-color: #f8f9fa; border-radius: 32px; border: 1px solid rgb(248, 249, 250); color: #bdc1c6; cursor: text; display: inline-block; float: left; font-size: 13px; height: 22px; line-height: 22px; margin-right: 4px; margin-top: 6px; max-width: 250px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px 12px; position: relative; text-align: center; text-overflow: ellipsis; white-space: nowrap;"></div><div aria-hidden="true" class="gWUzU MR2UAc F5z5N AsWFZc Inx6Z I6a0ee En7IMd rjpYgb gjoUyf" data-ved="2ahUKEwib_q-GjNvwAhWDu54KHVA_AKIQ8Y0DMAB6BAgCECc" jsaction="Aq3Esf" jsname="Stv3Z" style="background-origin: content-box; background-position: 50% 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat; border-radius: 32px; border: 1px solid rgb(218, 220, 224); cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; height: 22px; line-height: 22px; margin-right: -24px; margin-top: 6px; outline: 0px; position: relative; white-space: nowrap; width: 22px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="-1"><span class="D1MTm dZmT4d z1asCe bjaP2b" style="color: #70757a; display: inline-block; fill: currentcolor; height: 20px; line-height: 20px; margin: 1px; position: relative; width: 20px;"><svg focusable="false" viewbox="0 0 24 24" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><path d="M7.41 8.59L12 13.17l4.59-4.58L18 10l-6 6-6-6 1.41-1.41z"></path></svg></span></div></div><div data-mh="-1" role="listitem"><div class="EmSASc gWUzU F5z5N jEdCLc LsYFnd p9F8Cd cO53qb rjpYgb gjoUyf" jsname="F457ec" style="background-color: #f8f9fa; border-radius: 32px; border: 1px solid rgb(248, 249, 250); color: #bdc1c6; cursor: text; display: inline-block; float: left; font-size: 13px; height: 22px; line-height: 22px; margin-right: 4px; margin-top: 6px; max-width: 250px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px 12px; position: relative; text-align: center; text-overflow: ellipsis; white-space: nowrap;"></div><div aria-hidden="true" class="gWUzU MR2UAc F5z5N AsWFZc Inx6Z I6a0ee En7IMd rjpYgb gjoUyf" data-ved="2ahUKEwib_q-GjNvwAhWDu54KHVA_AKIQ8Y0DMAB6BAgCECg" jsaction="Aq3Esf" jsname="Stv3Z" style="background-origin: content-box; background-position: 50% 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat; border-radius: 32px; border: 1px solid rgb(218, 220, 224); cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; height: 22px; line-height: 22px; margin-right: -24px; margin-top: 6px; outline: 0px; position: relative; white-space: nowrap; width: 22px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="-1"><span class="D1MTm dZmT4d z1asCe bjaP2b" style="color: #70757a; display: inline-block; fill: currentcolor; height: 20px; line-height: 20px; margin: 1px; position: relative; width: 20px;"><svg focusable="false" viewbox="0 0 24 24" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><path d="M7.41 8.59L12 13.17l4.59-4.58L18 10l-6 6-6-6 1.41-1.41z"></path></svg></span></div></div><div data-mh="-1" role="listitem"><div class="EmSASc gWUzU F5z5N jEdCLc LsYFnd p9F8Cd cO53qb rjpYgb gjoUyf" jsname="F457ec" style="background-color: #f8f9fa; border-radius: 32px; border: 1px solid rgb(248, 249, 250); color: #bdc1c6; cursor: text; display: inline-block; float: left; font-size: 13px; height: 22px; line-height: 22px; margin-right: 4px; margin-top: 6px; max-width: 250px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px 12px; position: relative; text-align: center; text-overflow: ellipsis; white-space: nowrap;"></div><div aria-hidden="true" class="gWUzU MR2UAc F5z5N AsWFZc Inx6Z I6a0ee En7IMd rjpYgb gjoUyf" data-ved="2ahUKEwib_q-GjNvwAhWDu54KHVA_AKIQ8Y0DMAB6BAgCECk" jsaction="Aq3Esf" jsname="Stv3Z" style="background-origin: content-box; background-position: 50% 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat; border-radius: 32px; border: 1px solid rgb(218, 220, 224); cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; height: 22px; line-height: 22px; margin-right: -24px; margin-top: 6px; outline: 0px; position: relative; white-space: nowrap; width: 22px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="-1"><span class="D1MTm dZmT4d z1asCe bjaP2b" style="color: #70757a; display: inline-block; fill: currentcolor; height: 20px; line-height: 20px; margin: 1px; position: relative; width: 20px;"><svg focusable="false" viewbox="0 0 24 24" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><path d="M7.41 8.59L12 13.17l4.59-4.58L18 10l-6 6-6-6 1.41-1.41z"></path></svg></span></div></div><div data-mh="-1" role="listitem"><div class="EmSASc gWUzU F5z5N jEdCLc LsYFnd p9F8Cd cO53qb rjpYgb gjoUyf" jsname="F457ec" style="background-color: #f8f9fa; border-radius: 32px; border: 1px solid rgb(248, 249, 250); color: #bdc1c6; cursor: text; display: inline-block; float: left; font-size: 13px; height: 22px; line-height: 22px; margin-right: 4px; margin-top: 6px; max-width: 250px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px 12px; position: relative; text-align: center; text-overflow: ellipsis; white-space: nowrap;"></div><div aria-hidden="true" class="gWUzU MR2UAc F5z5N AsWFZc Inx6Z I6a0ee En7IMd rjpYgb gjoUyf" data-ved="2ahUKEwib_q-GjNvwAhWDu54KHVA_AKIQ8Y0DMAB6BAgCECo" jsaction="Aq3Esf" jsname="Stv3Z" style="background-origin: content-box; background-position: 50% 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat; border-radius: 32px; border: 1px solid rgb(218, 220, 224); cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; height: 22px; line-height: 22px; margin-right: -24px; margin-top: 6px; outline: 0px; position: relative; white-space: nowrap; width: 22px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="-1"><span class="D1MTm dZmT4d z1asCe bjaP2b" style="color: #70757a; display: inline-block; fill: currentcolor; height: 20px; line-height: 20px; margin: 1px; position: relative; width: 20px;"><svg focusable="false" viewbox="0 0 24 24" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><path d="M7.41 8.59L12 13.17l4.59-4.58L18 10l-6 6-6-6 1.41-1.41z"></path></svg></span></div></div><div data-mh="-1" role="listitem"><div class="EmSASc gWUzU MR2UAc F5z5N jEdCLc LsYFnd p9F8Cd I6a0ee rjpYgb gjoUyf" data-enc="1" data-uti="1" data-ved="2ahUKEwib_q-GjNvwAhWDu54KHVA_AKIQ8I0DMAB6BAgCECs" jsaction="click:DAFmqe;" jsname="F457ec" role="button" style="border-radius: 32px; border: 1px solid rgb(218, 220, 224); color: #3c4043; cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; float: left; font-size: 13px; height: 22px; line-height: 22px; margin-right: 4px; margin-top: 6px; max-width: 250px; outline: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px 12px; position: relative; text-align: center; text-overflow: ellipsis; white-space: nowrap;" tabindex="-1"><div id="_TtKnYJufNYP3-gTQ_oCQCg46"><div data-au="//ssl.gstatic.com/dictionary/static/sounds/20200429/desire--_us_1.mp3" data-df="strongly wish for or want (something)." data-ex="he never achieved the status he so desired" data-hw="desire" data-lb="" data-tae="true" data-te="false" data-tl="en-US" data-tldf="" data-url="/search?safe=active&sxsrf=ALeKk02yreIkPsU5wnP7vhdTrIVexigSKA:1621611086881&q=define+desire&forcedict=desire&dictcorpus=en-US" jsname="sUPGue"></div></div></div><div aria-hidden="true" class="gWUzU MR2UAc F5z5N AsWFZc Inx6Z I6a0ee En7IMd rjpYgb gjoUyf" data-ved="2ahUKEwib_q-GjNvwAhWDu54KHVA_AKIQ8Y0DMAB6BAgCECw" jsaction="Aq3Esf" jsname="Stv3Z" style="background-origin: content-box; background-position: 50% 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat; border-radius: 32px; border: 1px solid rgb(218, 220, 224); cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; height: 22px; line-height: 22px; margin-right: -24px; margin-top: 6px; outline: 0px; position: relative; white-space: nowrap; width: 22px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="-1"><span class="D1MTm dZmT4d z1asCe bjaP2b" style="color: #70757a; display: inline-block; fill: currentcolor; height: 20px; line-height: 20px; margin: 1px; position: relative; width: 20px;"><svg focusable="false" viewbox="0 0 24 24" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><path d="M7.41 8.59L12 13.17l4.59-4.58L18 10l-6 6-6-6 1.41-1.41z"></path></svg></span></div></div><div data-mh="-1" role="listitem"><div class="EmSASc gWUzU MR2UAc F5z5N jEdCLc LsYFnd p9F8Cd I6a0ee rjpYgb gjoUyf" data-enc="1" data-uti="1" data-ved="2ahUKEwib_q-GjNvwAhWDu54KHVA_AKIQ8I0DMAB6BAgCEC0" jsaction="click:DAFmqe;" jsname="F457ec" role="button" style="border-radius: 32px; border: 1px solid rgb(218, 220, 224); color: #3c4043; cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; float: left; font-size: 13px; height: 22px; line-height: 22px; margin-right: 4px; margin-top: 6px; max-width: 250px; outline: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px 12px; position: relative; text-align: center; text-overflow: ellipsis; white-space: nowrap;" tabindex="-1"><div id="_TtKnYJufNYP3-gTQ_oCQCg48"><div data-au="//ssl.gstatic.com/dictionary/static/sounds/20200429/want--_us_1.mp3" data-df="have a desire to possess or do (something); wish for." data-ex="I want an apple" data-hw="want" data-lb="" data-tae="true" data-te="false" data-tl="en-US" data-tldf="" data-url="/search?safe=active&sxsrf=ALeKk02yreIkPsU5wnP7vhdTrIVexigSKA:1621611086881&q=define+want&forcedict=want&dictcorpus=en-US" jsname="sUPGue"></div></div></div><div aria-hidden="true" class="gWUzU MR2UAc F5z5N AsWFZc Inx6Z I6a0ee En7IMd rjpYgb gjoUyf" data-uti="1" data-ved="2ahUKEwib_q-GjNvwAhWDu54KHVA_AKIQ8Y0DMAB6BAgCEC4" data-visible="true" jsaction="Aq3Esf" jsname="Stv3Z" style="background-origin: content-box; background-position: 50% 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat; border-radius: 32px; border: 1px solid rgb(218, 220, 224); cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; height: 22px; line-height: 22px; margin-right: -24px; margin-top: 6px; outline: 0px; position: relative; white-space: nowrap; width: 22px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="-1"><span class="D1MTm dZmT4d z1asCe bjaP2b" style="color: #70757a; display: inline-block; fill: currentcolor; height: 20px; line-height: 20px; margin: 1px; position: relative; width: 20px;"><svg focusable="false" viewbox="0 0 24 24" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><path d="M7.41 8.59L12 13.17l4.59-4.58L18 10l-6 6-6-6 1.41-1.41z"></path></svg></span></div></div><div data-mh="-1" role="listitem"><div class="EmSASc gWUzU F5z5N jEdCLc LsYFnd p9F8Cd cO53qb rjpYgb gjoUyf" jsname="F457ec" style="background-color: #f8f9fa; border-radius: 32px; border: 1px solid rgb(248, 249, 250); color: #bdc1c6; cursor: text; display: inline-block; float: left; font-size: 13px; height: 22px; line-height: 22px; margin-right: 4px; margin-top: 6px; max-width: 250px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px 12px; position: relative; text-align: center; text-overflow: ellipsis; white-space: nowrap;"></div><div aria-hidden="true" class="gWUzU MR2UAc F5z5N AsWFZc Inx6Z I6a0ee En7IMd rjpYgb gjoUyf" data-ved="2ahUKEwib_q-GjNvwAhWDu54KHVA_AKIQ8Y0DMAB6BAgCEC8" jsaction="Aq3Esf" jsname="Stv3Z" style="background-origin: content-box; background-position: 50% 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat; border-radius: 32px; border: 1px solid rgb(218, 220, 224); cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; height: 22px; line-height: 22px; margin-right: -24px; margin-top: 6px; outline: 0px; position: relative; white-space: nowrap; width: 22px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="-1"><span class="D1MTm dZmT4d z1asCe bjaP2b" style="color: #70757a; display: inline-block; fill: currentcolor; height: 20px; line-height: 20px; margin: 1px; position: relative; width: 20px;"><svg focusable="false" viewbox="0 0 24 24" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><path d="M7.41 8.59L12 13.17l4.59-4.58L18 10l-6 6-6-6 1.41-1.41z"></path></svg></span></div></div><div data-mh="-1" role="listitem"><div class="EmSASc gWUzU MR2UAc F5z5N jEdCLc LsYFnd p9F8Cd I6a0ee rjpYgb gjoUyf" data-enc="1" data-uti="0" data-ved="2ahUKEwib_q-GjNvwAhWDu54KHVA_AKIQ8I0DMAB6BAgCEDA" jsaction="click:DAFmqe;" jsname="F457ec" role="button" style="border-radius: 32px; border: 1px solid rgb(218, 220, 224); color: #3c4043; cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; float: left; font-size: 13px; height: 22px; line-height: 22px; margin-right: 4px; margin-top: 6px; max-width: 250px; outline: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px 12px; position: relative; text-align: center; text-overflow: ellipsis; white-space: nowrap;" tabindex="-1"><div id="_TtKnYJufNYP3-gTQ_oCQCg50"><div data-au="" data-df="suffer from unrequited love for." data-ex="she's obviously still carrying a torch for Charlie" data-hw="carry a torch for" data-lb="" data-tae="true" data-te="true" data-tl="en-US" data-tldf="" data-url="/search?safe=active&sxsrf=ALeKk02yreIkPsU5wnP7vhdTrIVexigSKA:1621611086881&q=define+carry+a+torch+for&forcedict=carry+a+torch+for&dictcorpus=en-US" jsname="sUPGue"></div></div></div><div aria-hidden="true" class="gWUzU MR2UAc F5z5N AsWFZc Inx6Z I6a0ee En7IMd rjpYgb gjoUyf" data-ved="2ahUKEwib_q-GjNvwAhWDu54KHVA_AKIQ8Y0DMAB6BAgCEDE" jsaction="Aq3Esf" jsname="Stv3Z" style="background-origin: content-box; background-position: 50% 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat; border-radius: 32px; border: 1px solid rgb(218, 220, 224); cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; height: 22px; line-height: 22px; margin-right: -24px; margin-top: 6px; outline: 0px; position: relative; white-space: nowrap; width: 22px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="-1"><span class="D1MTm dZmT4d z1asCe bjaP2b" style="color: #70757a; display: inline-block; fill: currentcolor; height: 20px; line-height: 20px; margin: 1px; position: relative; width: 20px;"><svg focusable="false" viewbox="0 0 24 24" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><path d="M7.41 8.59L12 13.17l4.59-4.58L18 10l-6 6-6-6 1.41-1.41z"></path></svg></span></div></div><div data-mh="-1" role="listitem"><div class="EmSASc gWUzU F5z5N jEdCLc LsYFnd p9F8Cd cO53qb rjpYgb gjoUyf" jsname="F457ec" style="background-color: #f8f9fa; border-radius: 32px; border: 1px solid rgb(248, 249, 250); color: #bdc1c6; cursor: text; display: inline-block; float: left; font-size: 13px; height: 22px; line-height: 22px; margin-right: 4px; margin-top: 6px; max-width: 250px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px 12px; position: relative; text-align: center; text-overflow: ellipsis; white-space: nowrap;"></div><div aria-hidden="true" class="gWUzU MR2UAc F5z5N AsWFZc Inx6Z I6a0ee En7IMd rjpYgb gjoUyf" data-ved="2ahUKEwib_q-GjNvwAhWDu54KHVA_AKIQ8Y0DMAB6BAgCEDI" jsaction="Aq3Esf" jsname="Stv3Z" style="background-origin: content-box; background-position: 50% 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat; border-radius: 32px; border: 1px solid rgb(218, 220, 224); cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; height: 22px; line-height: 22px; margin-right: -24px; margin-top: 6px; outline: 0px; position: relative; white-space: nowrap; width: 22px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="-1"><span class="D1MTm dZmT4d z1asCe bjaP2b" style="color: #70757a; display: inline-block; fill: currentcolor; height: 20px; line-height: 20px; margin: 1px; position: relative; width: 20px;"><svg focusable="false" viewbox="0 0 24 24" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><path d="M7.41 8.59L12 13.17l4.59-4.58L18 10l-6 6-6-6 1.41-1.41z"></path></svg></span></div></div><div data-mh="-1" role="listitem"><div class="EmSASc gWUzU MR2UAc F5z5N jEdCLc LsYFnd p9F8Cd I6a0ee rjpYgb gjoUyf" data-enc="1" data-uti="0" data-ved="2ahUKEwib_q-GjNvwAhWDu54KHVA_AKIQ8I0DMAB6BAgCEDM" jsaction="click:DAFmqe;" jsname="F457ec" role="button" style="border-radius: 32px; border: 1px solid rgb(218, 220, 224); color: #3c4043; cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; float: left; font-size: 13px; height: 22px; line-height: 22px; margin-right: 4px; margin-top: 6px; max-width: 250px; outline: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px 12px; position: relative; text-align: center; text-overflow: ellipsis; white-space: nowrap;" tabindex="-1"><div id="_TtKnYJufNYP3-gTQ_oCQCg52"><div data-au="//ssl.gstatic.com/dictionary/static/sounds/20200429/mourn--_us_1.mp3" data-df="feel or show deep sorrow or regret for (someone or their death), typically by following conventions such as the wearing of black clothes." data-ex="Isabel mourned her husband" data-hw="mourn" data-lb="" data-tae="true" data-te="false" data-tl="en-US" data-tldf="" data-url="/search?safe=active&sxsrf=ALeKk02yreIkPsU5wnP7vhdTrIVexigSKA:1621611086881&q=define+mourn&forcedict=mourn&dictcorpus=en-US" jsname="sUPGue"></div></div></div><div aria-hidden="true" class="gWUzU MR2UAc F5z5N AsWFZc Inx6Z I6a0ee En7IMd rjpYgb gjoUyf" data-ved="2ahUKEwib_q-GjNvwAhWDu54KHVA_AKIQ8Y0DMAB6BAgCEDQ" jsaction="Aq3Esf" jsname="Stv3Z" style="background-origin: content-box; background-position: 50% 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat; border-radius: 32px; border: 1px solid rgb(218, 220, 224); cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; height: 22px; line-height: 22px; margin-right: -24px; margin-top: 6px; outline: 0px; position: relative; white-space: nowrap; width: 22px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="-1"><span class="D1MTm dZmT4d z1asCe bjaP2b" style="color: #70757a; display: inline-block; fill: currentcolor; height: 20px; line-height: 20px; margin: 1px; position: relative; width: 20px;"><svg focusable="false" viewbox="0 0 24 24" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><path d="M7.41 8.59L12 13.17l4.59-4.58L18 10l-6 6-6-6 1.41-1.41z"></path></svg></span></div></div><div data-mh="-1" role="listitem"><div class="EmSASc gWUzU MR2UAc F5z5N jEdCLc LsYFnd p9F8Cd I6a0ee rjpYgb gjoUyf" data-enc="1" data-uti="0" data-ved="2ahUKEwib_q-GjNvwAhWDu54KHVA_AKIQ8I0DMAB6BAgCEDU" jsaction="click:DAFmqe;" jsname="F457ec" role="button" style="border-radius: 32px; border: 1px solid rgb(218, 220, 224); color: #3c4043; cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; float: left; font-size: 13px; height: 22px; line-height: 22px; margin-right: 4px; margin-top: 6px; max-width: 250px; outline: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px 12px; position: relative; text-align: center; text-overflow: ellipsis; white-space: nowrap;" tabindex="-1"><div id="_TtKnYJufNYP3-gTQ_oCQCg54"><div data-au="//ssl.gstatic.com/dictionary/static/sounds/20200429/miss--_us_1.mp3" data-df="fail to hit, reach, or come into contact with (something aimed at)." data-ex="a laser-guided bomb had missed its target" data-hw="miss" data-lb="" data-tae="true" data-te="false" data-tl="en-US" data-tldf="" data-url="/search?safe=active&sxsrf=ALeKk02yreIkPsU5wnP7vhdTrIVexigSKA:1621611086881&q=define+miss&forcedict=miss&dictcorpus=en-US" jsname="sUPGue"></div></div></div><div aria-hidden="true" class="gWUzU MR2UAc F5z5N AsWFZc Inx6Z I6a0ee En7IMd rjpYgb gjoUyf" data-ved="2ahUKEwib_q-GjNvwAhWDu54KHVA_AKIQ8Y0DMAB6BAgCEDY" jsaction="Aq3Esf" jsname="Stv3Z" style="background-origin: content-box; background-position: 50% 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat; border-radius: 32px; border: 1px solid rgb(218, 220, 224); cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; height: 22px; line-height: 22px; margin-right: -24px; margin-top: 6px; outline: 0px; position: relative; white-space: nowrap; width: 22px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="-1"><span class="D1MTm dZmT4d z1asCe bjaP2b" style="color: #70757a; display: inline-block; fill: currentcolor; height: 20px; line-height: 20px; margin: 1px; position: relative; width: 20px;"><svg focusable="false" viewbox="0 0 24 24" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><path d="M7.41 8.59L12 13.17l4.59-4.58L18 10l-6 6-6-6 1.41-1.41z"></path></svg></span></div></div><div data-mh="-1" role="listitem"><div class="EmSASc gWUzU MR2UAc F5z5N jEdCLc LsYFnd p9F8Cd I6a0ee rjpYgb gjoUyf" data-enc="1" data-uti="0" data-ved="2ahUKEwib_q-GjNvwAhWDu54KHVA_AKIQ8I0DMAB6BAgCEDc" jsaction="click:DAFmqe;" jsname="F457ec" role="button" style="border-radius: 32px; border: 1px solid rgb(218, 220, 224); color: #3c4043; cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; float: left; font-size: 13px; height: 22px; line-height: 22px; margin-right: 4px; margin-top: 6px; max-width: 250px; outline: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px 12px; position: relative; text-align: center; text-overflow: ellipsis; white-space: nowrap;" tabindex="-1"><div id="_TtKnYJufNYP3-gTQ_oCQCg56"><div data-au="//ssl.gstatic.com/dictionary/static/sounds/20200429/repine--_us_1.mp3" data-df="feel or express discontent; fret." data-ex="you mustn't let yourself repine" data-hw="repine" data-lb="literary" data-tae="true" data-te="false" data-tl="en-US" data-tldf="" data-url="/search?safe=active&sxsrf=ALeKk02yreIkPsU5wnP7vhdTrIVexigSKA:1621611086881&q=define+repine&forcedict=repine&dictcorpus=en-US" jsname="sUPGue"></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></li><li aria-hidden="true" class="xpdxpnd" data-mh="-1" data-topic="" jsname="z0mti" style="list-style: none; margin: 0px; max-height: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; transition: max-height 0.3s ease 0s;"><div class="csWlI AgHEyd" id="_TtKnYJufNYP3-gTQ_oCQCg58" style="display: list-item; font-size: xx-small; list-style-type: disc; margin-left: 25px; padding-top: 5px;"><div class="L1jWkf h3TRxf" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: normal;"><div><span class="mQo3nc SV5YOc hsL7ld" style="background-color: #f8f9fa; border-radius: 2px; display: inline-block; font-size: 10px; line-height: 18px; margin-right: 6px; margin-top: -1px; padding: 0px 6px; text-transform: uppercase;"></span></div><div data-dobid="dfn" style="display: inline;"></div><div class="vmod"><div class="H9KYcb" style="color: #70757a;"></div></div></div></div></li></ul></div></div></div></div></li><li jsname="gskXhf" style="list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><div class="vmod"><div class="thODed eO6Jqe L1jWkf" style="line-height: normal; padding-top: 10px;"><div data-topic="" jsname="cJAsRb"><div style="float: left;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">2</span>.</div><div style="margin-left: 20px;"><div class="L1jWkf h3TRxf" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: normal;"><div data-dobid="dfn" style="display: inline;">suffer from being forced to remain in an unpleasant place or situation. (Oxford Dictionary)</div></div></div></div></div></div></li></ol><div><span face="arial, sans-serif" style="color: #202124;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span face="arial, sans-serif" style="color: #202124;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">Like many people I know, I have been languishing. I have been "lacking vitality, growing weak, and suffering from being forced to remain in an unpleasant situation."</span></span></div><div><span face="arial, sans-serif" style="color: #202124;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span face="arial, sans-serif" style="color: #202124;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">For the past few weeks I had been coping by finding purpose in one of the few refuges I had left, my garden. Having it all buried in snow, even though not unexpectedly (after all it happens just about every year) feels poetic, in the pathetic fallacy kind of way. Every perennial I have nurtured over the years is left hanging in uncertainty, and now I wonder which ones will withstand the long freeze. I wonder that about other things in my life, as well.</span></span></div><div><span face="arial, sans-serif" style="color: #202124;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span face="arial, sans-serif" style="color: #202124;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">So yeah, this pandemic has got me languishing. It has cancelled many things that made life meaningful for me: family gatherings, making plans for the future, little outings with my kids, vacations. It put a halt to church meetings and forbade me to sit elbow to elbow with people I love and respect, making it hard for me to feel belonging in my community of saints. It even cancelled the temple, which was my monthly lifeline for many years, connecting me to God and my family and giving me perspective and divine strength in my trials. </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span face="arial, sans-serif" style="color: #202124;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">For me, isolation is something I don't do well. Every apologetic attempt to gather in order to find strength and connection from loved ones is tainted by guilt, anxiety, and often brings with it less connection and more disconnection—a feeling of division with others who either believe the restrictions are a total conspiracy, or else they are an unbending standard. I have found myself feeling frustrated and angry with people I once respected and loved, both the rigid and the lax, something totally new for me who once saw only good in everyone. It has shone a light on my own surprising lack of charity, and on my own unwillingness to build Zion with people who see things differently from me.</span></span></div><div><span face="arial, sans-serif" style="color: #202124;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span face="arial, sans-serif" style="color: #202124;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">This whole thing—the pandemic, but also the entire political and social landscape of my church and community—has gutted me. Watching setback after setback has filled me with doubt. For my whole life I have been a diehard optimist. I was always cheerful in difficulty. I possessed a curious reserve of faith and hope in even the most difficult situation. I always thought I could do anything. The past few years have tested me in heart wrenching ways, and I have simply come up insufficient. I now have to live with that about myself.</span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span face="arial, sans-serif" style="color: #202124;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">Parenting, of course, has taken me to a new level of Dante's inferno. I don't need to go into details about that, the failures, isolation, and frustrations of parenting in a pandemic. Talk about "being forced to remain in an unpleasant place or situation." My poor kids.</span></span></div><div><span face="arial, sans-serif" style="color: #202124;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span face="arial, sans-serif" style="color: #202124;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">I have learned before about mental illness, specifically depression and anxiety, from close family who battle this kind of thing every day. They are veterans in this feeling of being stuck, this emptiness, this languishing. I feel newfound respect for them. For me, this is a new experience. It sucks.</span></span></div><div><span face="arial, sans-serif" style="color: #202124;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span face="arial, sans-serif" style="color: #202124;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">In the hymn, we sing:</span></span></div><div><span face="arial, sans-serif" style="color: #202124;"><blockquote><span style="font-size: 14px;"></span></blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><span style="font-size: 14px;">Where, when my aching grows,</span> </blockquote><blockquote><span style="font-size: 14px;">Where when I languish,</span></blockquote><blockquote><span style="font-size: 14px;">Where in my need to know,</span> <span style="font-size: 14px;">where can I run?</span></blockquote><blockquote><span style="font-size: 14px;">Where is the quiet hand to calm my anguish?</span></blockquote><blockquote><span style="font-size: 14px;">Who, who can understand?</span></blockquote><blockquote><span style="font-size: 14px;">He only One.</span></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote><span style="font-size: 14px;"></span></blockquote><p><span style="font-size: 14px;">Lately, I have been wondering what Christ knows about languishing. Does He, a God, <i>really</i> understand about uncertainty, about our mortal limitations and constant "need to know?" Does He understand what it's like to know what you <i>should</i> do, but are unable, for whatever mental and emotional reasons, to actually do it?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 14px;">I don't know the answer, but I do have enough faith to believe that Christ does understand uncertainty. I believe He faced it in the garden. I believe He continues to languish under the load of our collective uncertainty, as well as our stagnation, sorrow, and sin. I do not</span><span style="font-size: 14px;"> believe Christ was an omniscient being when He entered Gethsemane. He does not enter Gethsemane, either His or ours, as the triumphant Son of God, but as a sensitive, anxious, frightened mortal being. The voice I hear as He asked, "O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me" is not one that knows exactly how His trial will end, or how long it was meant to last, or if He could even perform the task at all. In my mind, it was a voice that trembled with bone breaking doubt. That vision of Christ is relatable to me. The record says He fell on His face under the weight of it all. He knows what it is like to be totally alone in that feeling, to have disciples falling asleep at the crucial moment He needed them. He knows what it is like to feel "exceedingly sorrowful, even unto death." (Matthew 26:38-39)</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 14px;">I don't know how much longer this pandemic will last. I don't know how much longer the other garbage my life is throwing at me will go on. And I have learned a bitter truth that some trials in life do not have a foreseeable mortal end. For all I know, they may go on forever.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 14px;">However, I believe Christ knows about the trials that feel neverending. Christ continues to suffer with us to this day, 2000 years after His Gethsemane. He has yoked Himself to us, even now, treading the winepress alone until every grape is turned to wine, and every dredge from our bitter cup is drunk. I have to believe He knows how to succor His people in their infirmity. (Alma 7)</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 14px;">As I languish "in my Gethsemane," I want to believe that He knows how to "reach me in my reaching." Looking out my window at the snow falling again, I believe that "<a href="http://tiresias-m.blogspot.com/2013/04/spring-has-to-come.html">spring has to come</a>." I don't know what damage this long freeze, metaphorical and literal, will have on us all when it's all over, but I believe life is always strong enough to heal and prevail. I</span><span style="font-size: 14px;"> want to believe </span><a href="https://abn.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/general-conference/2020/10/46nelson?lang=eng" style="font-size: 14px;">God will prevail in my life</a><span style="font-size: 14px;">. I want to believe that this languishing must end.</span></p></span></div>Christopherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15437446356877845822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6611405196094714220.post-36019020335086092082021-05-13T19:28:00.001-06:002023-05-05T19:31:23.771-06:00The Equation of Trees<p><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I have been thinking a lot about trees.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">Trees are an important part of regulating the earth's gases. Forests are sometimes referred to as the earth's lungs. The process of photosynthesis uses the energy of the sun to release oxygen back into the atmosphere. While all plants do this, forests do this on a tremendously significant scale. Without trees, our earth would be an uninhabitable place for any kind of life.</span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-0ddc78e3-7fff-ae5e-3148-bc7c17d41e99"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">But that isn't all they do. Not only do they produce life-giving oxygen, but they also capture carbon released by all living things and store it back in their wood. Trees are basically magicians. They literally make wood out of thin air. The vast boreal forests and rainforests capture a significant amount of the earth's carbon. The majority of the stored carbon of earth was originally put into the ground as oil and peat by ancient forests. See? They’re superstars.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Ever since I had to memorize the equation of photosynthesis in High School biology, I was fascinated by it. It read like a miracle. Carbon dioxide plus water, by the power of the sun, creates oxygen and glucose. The two basic things we need for survival. Air and energy. They are trees of life. It just felt ripe with spiritual application.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">In the center of the garden stands the tree of life. Our journey to that tree requires a daily dose of spiritual oxygen, the spiritual breath of life. The Holy Ghost. Our journey also requires creating spiritual glucose by cleaning up the inevitable "carbon emissions" we make along the way.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Christ is that tree of life. He has the power to clean up our pollution, and He also has the power to provide us with spiritual oxygen by His Spirit. He is the resurrection and the life. He is the light that makes photosynthesis possible in our own lives. He is the living waters in the equation. He is the glucose, the bread of life. He is every part of the equation of spiritual photosynthesis. He is the equation.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The only thing we need to work on having is chlorophyll. We need to make sure our receptors for light are spread as wide as they can be to the heavens. In a darkening world, we need to stand in holy places where the light can reach us.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I believe we can synthesize a new creature as we come to Him and apply His spiritual equations.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8HBm_kEPUFE8MIIe30R21GVsqeTWpvCwNXXsnYxpJC9tJ_yyI7KesozLIiiypqYzYfeajYel4wyITrrnxnlUjB871XefgTFkVwZLwwqiDyM7X74JwU47v8IfAgcZM2IBkR4R_g17nGdVOeWPE3gaIWhFcr69KLhPB81UBGh0NfGN2GfZKEV2-em4aEw/s600/tree-of-life-13938595919K2_1_grande.webp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="443" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8HBm_kEPUFE8MIIe30R21GVsqeTWpvCwNXXsnYxpJC9tJ_yyI7KesozLIiiypqYzYfeajYel4wyITrrnxnlUjB871XefgTFkVwZLwwqiDyM7X74JwU47v8IfAgcZM2IBkR4R_g17nGdVOeWPE3gaIWhFcr69KLhPB81UBGh0NfGN2GfZKEV2-em4aEw/s320/tree-of-life-13938595919K2_1_grande.webp" width="236" /></a></div></span><p></p>Christopherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15437446356877845822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6611405196094714220.post-758023608593245822021-05-05T14:04:00.034-06:002021-05-21T08:20:27.684-06:00"Have I a Mother in Heaven?"<p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEildAw1Tl4KFX-o1m-tIDHKArIBNNjO-UAeJz1_XR8h1bfwb0MwiUfwuNxgQYzcn4BOGEYZbpCiXm7SfT7jgrNiOSKrg4hZV0iVwmG3aeJ1wP8UaRJ7nzyQCWxVMYfUaujzh0FQZ58UDIRx/s372/Zina+Diantha.png" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="372" data-original-width="291" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEildAw1Tl4KFX-o1m-tIDHKArIBNNjO-UAeJz1_XR8h1bfwb0MwiUfwuNxgQYzcn4BOGEYZbpCiXm7SfT7jgrNiOSKrg4hZV0iVwmG3aeJ1wP8UaRJ7nzyQCWxVMYfUaujzh0FQZ58UDIRx/w250-h320/Zina+Diantha.png" width="250" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zina Diantha Huntington</td></tr></tbody></table>My great great great grandmother, Zina Diantha Huntington, once asked the prophet Joseph Smith a remarkable question: "Have I a Mother in Heaven?" What she learned from the prophet she shared with her close friend, Eliza R. Snow, which may have influenced her hymn "Oh My Father" that we often sing on Mother's Day because of this one line: "In the heav'ns are parents single? No the thought makes reason stare! Truth is reason, truth eternal tells me I've a Mother there." <p></p><p>And then we go the rest of the year largely ignoring this huge, earth shattering piece of information. (Not a very genuine way to honor mothers on Mother's Day, in my opinion.)</p><p>Now, almost 200 years later, I often wonder: Whatever happened to Her in the restoration?</p><p>In my searching, I have come to believe we need a new generation of both men and women who are willing to ask the same question my ancestor once asked: "Have I a Mother in Heaven?" </p><p>To obtain spiritual truth, I believe that God does not often give us answers to questions we are not asking. We cannot passively wait for God to tell us more. We are commanded <i><b>to seek</b></i>. The restoration is ongoing and unfolds only as fast as we collectively ask the questions. I believe many members do not ask questions about Her because they believe She is somehow taboo.</p><p>For personal reasons, I have had to ask the question my ancestor asked, and while I still have much to learn, I have found enough of an answer to believe that I am indeed the son of Heavenly Parents, Father and Mother. I have both their spiritual DNA deep in my soul. This understanding has guided me to define myself not only as their son, but also shaped my decision to become a husband and father in spite of challenges.</p><p>I share here some thoughts and ideas I have wrestled with about Heavenly Mother. I recognize that this topic, for whatever reason, makes some people feel uncomfortable, and to be honest, I struggled whether I should share this at all. But because I feel strongly that the doctrine of a Heavenly Mother needs to be brought up and addressed more openly, I have outlined some of my personal beliefs below.</p><p>I emphasize that these are my personal beliefs, and some of them may resonate with you while others may contradict your own feelings. That is okay. I believe getting to know God, both Heavenly Father and Heavenly Mother, is a process we must each go through for ourselves, but I also believe we can learn from each other as we respectfully share insights along the way.</p><p style="text-align: center;">*******</p><p>1. Heavenly Mother is not too sacred to talk about, any more than Heavenly Father is too sacred to talk about. She is not fragile. She is not someone who needs our protection. She has the same might, power, knowledge, involvement, and love that our Father in Heaven does. <b>I believe we can talk about Her as openly and as reverently as we do our Heavenly Father.</b></p><p>2. Worshipping Heavenly Mother is not a sin, and acknowledging that she hears our prayers is not apostasy. <b>I believe Heavenly Mother hears our prayers the same way Heavenly Father does.</b></p><p>3. When we say, "We shouldn't ask about Heavenly Mother because she is not important to our salvation right now," we are also saying that the eternal identity of a woman is not important to us right now. <b>We are saying women's identity is a topic that can only be addressed if it is relational to men.</b> This hurts both men and women.</p><p>4. We cannot effectively teach eternal marriage, and then hold up as our celestial model a Single Parent household. <b>We cannot preach equal partnership on earth without preaching equal partnership in heaven.</b></p><p>5. <b>Monogamy is the law of heaven.</b> Polygamy has been authorized on earth at specific, brief times, but only as a test of faith, commanded as an Abrahamic sacrifice to which there is a ram in the thicket. (Even, I believe, for my ancestor Zina.) I do not believe polygamy can be an eternal law because it is harmful to both women and men's development by making a woman's identity secondary to a man's. It makes united, intimate, and creative partnership between husband and wife impossible.</p><p>6. <b>Acknowledging Heavenly Mother can help strengthen our doctrine that marriage is between a man and a woman.</b> It also makes us better equipped to battle cultural practices that are misogynist or limiting to women, including ones we have inherited in our own faith tradition, the "wicked traditions of our fathers."</p><p>7. Our doctrine is not just that God has a wife. <b>It is that God can't even <i>be</i> God without Her.</b> "Neither is the woman without the man, nor the man without the woman, in the Lord." (1 Corinthians 11:11)</p><p>8. Heavenly Mother is not just for girls. <b>Boys need Her, too.</b> Men need to talk about Her as much as women do. We are just as much Her children as women are.</p><p>9. <b>Heavenly Father and Heavenly Mother work side by side in the garden.</b> Creation brings men and women together, not divides them into separate spheres. I do not believe the economy of heaven is based on gendered divisions of labor, nor on our current understanding of gender roles. These are a result of the Fall. If we try to frame Her using our current gender constructs, we will likely misunderstand Her.</p><p>10. I have heard some explain Heavenly Mother might somehow be the earth, or that She might be the Holy Ghost. I believe She is neither. I believe <b>She has a resurrected body "of flesh and bone, tangible as man's."</b> (D&C 130:22) To deny Her a body is to deny women the promise of a resurrection.</p><p>11. Heavenly Mother is not unavailable, too busy, or out on a "spa day." <b>Her apparent absence is our <i>own</i> fault, not Hers.</b> I believe She is as involved in our lives as Heavenly Father is.</p><p>12. <b>Understanding Heavenly Mother better will help us to heal the earth </b>as we begin to respect creation more deeply, and find balance between "masculine" and "feminine" ways of knowing. It will heal our lopsided, male-oriented systems of power. It will help us to develop male-female balance inside all of us. This will change the way we interact with the planet, and the way we interact with each other. It will help us to be more chaste.</p><p>13. <b>The concept of Heavenly Mother is not new.</b> She was not invented by the feminists. She was worshipped anciently in the Old Testament<b>.</b> She has always been there, though She was regrettably expunged from the scriptural record at various times. This has led to some devastating spiritual consequences. We are still dealing with those consequences in our worship today.</p><p>14. It is significant to me that the restoration of the church began in a sacred grove. Anciently, groves of trees were the standard place to worship the Divine Feminine. <b>I believe She was very involved in the Restoration</b>, which also involved a restoration of <i>Her</i>. I believe if She had appeared to Joseph Smith, She would have also called Joseph by name and pointed him to Her Beloved Son, Jesus Christ, the same way Heavenly Father did.</p><p>15. Scholars have pointed out that one of the names for Heavenly Mother in the Old Testament is "Wisdom." I find it significant that the restoration began with the scripture "If any of you lack <i>Wisdom</i>, let him ask of God." Today we lack Wisdom. <b>The way to learn more about Her is simply to ask</b>, nothing wavering, and we will receive liberally. (James 1:5)</p><p>16. <b>Recognizing Heavenly Mother can help us focus better on the Son</b>, because a son must have two parents. Christ is the only way to the Father, but also to the Mother. We can get to know both the Father and the Mother better by getting to know their Son. In learning about Her, we must never lose focus on Christ.</p><p>17. Mary, the mortal mother of Jesus Christ, was the handmaid of Heavenly Mother, not of Heavenly Father. I believe this because scripturally, men don't have handmaids. Their wives do. <b>Mary's role is significant in the plan of redemption, and reminds us of our Mother in Heaven.</b> (See 1 Nephi 11) Christ's commandment on the cross to John to "behold thy mother!" is also for us today.</p><p>18.<b> The world is hungry for Her</b>. We should not be ashamed, or hide our unique doctrine about Heavenly Mother in the Church of Jesus Christ. It can, in fact, be a beacon of truth, a bold and refreshing doctrine that could attract many who are earnestly seeking to know more about God.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqNh7kdxQeWtWkr_blsefpnSQ5EMTcrunG9LWaz5_ye4_vgydZRO8P8hKpT23jGnGDZ7XoLGLMHCtHf1tDim6t30ZniZuonHkAjoMB7IOZn2-XkN6fEEQAWclxBoCxqC66TZ0y_ijgBhyphenhyphenh/s864/613goddesswithshorthairexp.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="824" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqNh7kdxQeWtWkr_blsefpnSQ5EMTcrunG9LWaz5_ye4_vgydZRO8P8hKpT23jGnGDZ7XoLGLMHCtHf1tDim6t30ZniZuonHkAjoMB7IOZn2-XkN6fEEQAWclxBoCxqC66TZ0y_ijgBhyphenhyphenh/s320/613goddesswithshorthairexp.png" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Goddess with Short Hair," by J. Kirk Richards</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p>Christopherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15437446356877845822noreply@blogger.com32tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6611405196094714220.post-56366485685626194602021-04-09T07:38:00.024-06:002021-04-11T11:10:27.354-06:00Nephi's Sisters<p>The Book of Mormon is written for our time. It teaches us about the pride cycle, the Zoramites' contempt for the poor, the Gadianton robbers; it shows us how social divisions, both economic and racial, contributed to a civilization's downfall. All these principles are well taught in our manuals and classes and have been incorporated into our narrative of gospel understanding.</p><p>But what if all those things were just symptoms of a much more fundamental problem going on in the Book of Mormon? What if the seeds of the Nephite's downfall were planted much earlier, before Lehi's family even arrived to the promised land? No, I am not referring to the friction and eventual split between Laman and Nephi. I believe the Nephite story is less about the generational effects of quarrelling brothers and more about the long-term social impact of an entire nation that persistently disregarded their sisters.</p><p>The Book of Mormon is, at its heart, the story of a family. We are introduced to a prophet named Lehi through his vision of the destruction of Jerusalem and accompanying theophany, but his main function in the narrative is that of father, traveling to the promised land with his wife and bickering sons. It really catches us off guard when we read in 2nd Nephi, long after the dramatic story of the family's journey in the wilderness is told, in some offhand comment nonetheless, that there were sisters.</p><p>With ample opportunity to name them, Nephi instead introduces his family this way: "And [Lehi] did travel in the wilderness with his family, which consisted of my mother, Sariah, and my elder brothers, who were Laman, Lemuel, and Sam."</p><p>Why does Nephi not think it is any more important to give us the names of Lehi's daughters than to record for us the names of Lehi's camels? What is the lesson for us in the Book of Mormon about women?</p><p>Over and over again, Nephite women are conspicuously missing. Overlooked. Forgotten. I mean, Nephi and his family are halfway down the road to the promised land before they suddenly remember that they need wives, the way a person might remember halfway down the highway that they forgot to pack their toothbrush.</p><p>I am no expert in ancient civilizations, but I would wager that Nephi was no less thoughtful and inclusive towards women than any other man in 600B.C. Context is everything in this story and, even among God's covenant people, Nephi was just probably functioning in the constructs of his ancient society. It probably does us no good at all to judge him harshly and according to our 21st century sensibilities. But some of us may be left wondering, "If a prophet, the mouthpiece of God, can't be inclusive towards women in the scripture, who on earth can?"</p><p>Well in 2021, we all can.</p><p>Dr. Joseph Spencer, a professor of philosophy and ancient scripture at BYU, suggests an interpretation from Jacob 2 that turned the Book of Mormon completely on its head for me. I borrow heavily from his presentation <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eUm7Yk0DNkQ">here</a>, and from a chapter in his book from Neal A. Maxwell Institute <a href="https://deseretbook.com/p/1st-nephi-a-brief-theological-introduction?ref=detailed-card-1&variant_id=183851-paperback">here.</a></p><p>He suggests that we have good reason to believe that Lehi was trying to introduce to his sons a social model of gender that was different from Jerusalem society. It could be that he recognized the injustice and abuse against women in his society, and was inspired of God to create a new society in a new land. Jacob gives us these insights into the teachings of Lehi:</p><p></p><blockquote><p class="verse" data-aid="128356559" id="p30" style="--height: 81.6875px; background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0.65em; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></p></blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><p class="verse" data-aid="128356559" id="p30" style="--height: 81.6875px; background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0.65em; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">For if I will, saith the Lord of Hosts, raise up seed unto me, I will command my people; otherwise they shall hearken unto these things. For behold, I, the Lord, have seen the sorrow, and heard the mourning of the daughters of my people in the land of Jerusalem, yea, and in all the lands of my people, because of the wickedness and abominations of their husbands. And I will not suffer, saith the Lord of Hosts, that the cries of the fair daughters of this people, which I have led out of the land of Jerusalem, shall come up unto me against the men of my people, saith the Lord of Hosts.<span style="background-color: transparent;"> (Jacob 2:30-32)</span></span></p></blockquote><blockquote><p class="verse" data-aid="128356564" id="p32" style="--height: 104.688px; background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0.65em; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Behold, the Lamanites your brethren...are more righteous than you; for they have not forgotten</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">the commandment of the Lord, which was given unto our father—that they should have save it were one</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">wife, and concubines</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">they should have none, and there should not be whoredoms</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">committed among them. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">And now, this commandment they observe to keep; wherefore, because of this observance, in keeping this commandment, the Lord God will not destroy them, but will be merciful unto them; and one day they shall become a blessed people.</span><span style="background-color: transparent;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Behold, their husbands love</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">their wives</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">, and their wives love their husbands; and their husbands and their wives love their children. (Jacob 3:5-7)</span></p></blockquote><blockquote><p class="verse" data-aid="128356563" id="p6" style="--height: 127.688px; background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0.65em; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>And now behold, my brethren, ye know that these commandments were given to our father</b></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>, Lehi; wherefore, ye have known them before; and ye have come unto great condemnation; for ye have done these things which ye ought not to have done.</b> (Jacob 2:34)</span></p></blockquote></blockquote><p>The life of this particular remnant of Israel in the promised land was meant to be apart from the wicked traditions of their fathers, to become a society where women were no longer abused, excluded, or considered property—where husbands loved their wives and where monogamy was the rule. God separated Lehi and his family with a commandment that involved gender equality.</p><p>And thus, the rest of the Book of Mormon could be read through the lens of this question: How did they do?</p><p>Short answer: not good. Quite terrible, in fact.</p><p><b>Missing Women and the Downfall of the Nephites</b></p><p>Sariah is the only non-Lamanite woman who speaks in the first person, or is even mentioned, in the Book of Mormon. She is the wife of one prophet, and mother of another. She probably felt keenly the restraints put on her in this band of boys who seem to blunder along, forgetting all kinds of things and obviously not including her in the decision making process, having to backtrack needlessly. I am sure she sighed the way a mother does when she is halfway into town and her child suddenly announces he forgot to put on his shoes. In this position, waiting for her sons to return with the brass plates and worried that they might have died, she murmurs against her husband. "Behold, thou hast led us forth from the land of our inheritance, and my sons are no more, and we perish in the wilderness."</p><p>The only identity afforded her in Jewish society, that of a mother, is at stake with the possible death of her sons, and her entire hope for a new life for her and her daughters is threatened. The most comforting words mustered by a prophet and compassionate husband do nothing for her. She is inconsolable, temporarily robbed of any sense of self on their journey to the promised land.</p><p>But there is a turnaround to her justified murmuring. With her sons' return, she emerges no longer just as Lehi's wife, and not just as Nephi's mother, but as a person with her own voice and her own testimony. She is her own witness. Sariah's reconciliation is given to us with her own words: </p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><blockquote>"Now I know of a surety that he Lord hath commanded my husband to flee into the wilderness; yea, and I also know of a surety that the Lord hath protected my sons, and delivered them out of the hands of Laban, and given them power whereby they could accomplish the thing which the Lord hath commanded them. And after this manner of language did she speak."</blockquote><p>Though she is testifying of her husband's calling as prophet, Sariah is nonetheless liberated by a faith that is at last independent of her husband, and she is given space on the gold plates to carve out her own witness. From there, she is provided the strength necessary to continue on her difficult journey to the promised land, even though she was soon after nearly brought to the grave on the ship by the men and their "exceeding rudeness."</p><p>Alas, there is no "Book of Sariah." She may not have even been literate, (though I like to believe she was.) But despite having only one verse to speak, one would at least hope that Sariah's would begin a legacy of incorporating women's voice and testimony into the Nephite record, engraving their words in gold alongside their husbands, brothers, and sons. But this did not happen. The nameless sisters in that first generation in the Americas, from the daughters of Lehi to the daughters of Ishmael, and continuing on in a long and tragic line of male-only generations all the way to a motherless, wifeless Moroni, prove that the Nephite's did not continue with Sariah's example if including women in the record.</p><p>From there on out, the only named women, the only women who ever speak in the record, or are mentioned by name, are Lamanite women. Abish. The mothers of the army of Helaman. King Lamoni's wife. The Lamanite Queen. All of these have a poignant place in the narrative. But if we try to find the same in the Nephites, we come up empty handed.</p><p>Without hyperbole, this eventually led to the Nephite's total destruction. It was their failure to "love their wives" that set them apart from the Lamanites and, as prophesied by Jacob, led to their downfall. However the Lamanites, who according to Jacob valued women at least more than the Nephites did, were spared to be redeemed in the last days.</p><p>One is left wondering that if women were treated differently in this ancient society, would the storyline be different? Would we still have to grapple with the tedious war chapters—the endless battles, the violence, the depravity—if women were valued the same as men in their society?</p><p>One<a href="http://www.womanstats.org/aboutoverview.html"> BYU researcher</a> I admire very much, Dr. Valerie Hudson, has studied and measured extensively different variables of how women are treated in nations around the world, and convincingly argues th<span style="font-family: inherit;">at "<span style="background-color: white;">the fate of nations is integrally tied to the status of women in society." </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;">This can certainly be true of the Nephites.</span></span><span style="background-color: white;"> If we are looking to the Nephites as a model we should emulate, I believe we are reading it wrong.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;">So where do go from here?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;">Mormon and Moroni write to us on the hill as they witness the utter downfall of their patriarchal society, documenting in painful detail the cruelty and depravity, especially towards women, as outlined in Moroni 9. Moroni implores: </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;"></span></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;">"Condemn me not because of mine imperfection</span><span style="background-color: white;">, neither my father, because of his imperfection, neither them who have written before him; but rather give thanks unto God that he hath made manifest unto you our imperfections, that ye may learn to be more wise than we have been."</span></span></blockquote><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBh5kwD7dATVOkhPqeF01qnCANwkTJuX64JwvJe3oIgyJeHI4cDv31B9iuAED3ZL07NKm7zrTHJB2oGLSuArZu-Fsj06Ze_1BXCsgr656IEoOW_J8ejWVQeR9lny6_ICLRQNi1aVdtniJ6/s1200/O+Ye+Fair+Ones.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="654" data-original-width="1200" height="348" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBh5kwD7dATVOkhPqeF01qnCANwkTJuX64JwvJe3oIgyJeHI4cDv31B9iuAED3ZL07NKm7zrTHJB2oGLSuArZu-Fsj06Ze_1BXCsgr656IEoOW_J8ejWVQeR9lny6_ICLRQNi1aVdtniJ6/w640-h348/O+Ye+Fair+Ones.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">O Ye Fair Ones: Mormon and Moroni witness the destruction of their people.</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="background-color: white;">Without condemning, is it presumptuous to believe we can be "more wise" than the Nephites? If every attempt to create a Zion society in the scriptures has ended in disaster, what makes the restored Church any different? </span><span style="background-color: white;">What do we have that they did not?</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;">Well, for one thing, we have our unprecedented fight for global women's rights.</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;"><b>Moving Forward: Nephi's Sisters in Zion</b></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;">When we look back on the progress that women have made in society over the past two hundred years since the Nephite record was extracted from the hill Cumorah—since heavenly messengers have turned their heavenly keys and Moroni has come to announce the Lord's coming with a trump—it has been very heartening.</span><span style="background-color: white;"> Women have gone from silent property to citizens with a voice in only a few short years. </span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;">But how much more needs to be done? Well if the status of women is a temperature check on how well a nation is doing, I would say that given the state of things and the struggles we face worldwide, that the answer is "plenty of work."</span></p><p><br /></p><p>Talking with the women in my life, some tell me they do not resonate with the claim that women struggle at church. Some say that they already <i>do</i> feel heard and involved at every level. Like Sariah, they have already made it onto the plates. I do not want to minimize their voice or their experience in any way. I am aware that many women already do speak in church, teach lessons, plan activities, participate in decision making, work in leadership positions, and some already feel like their voice is valued equally alongside the witness of their brothers and their husbands as they counsel and receive revelation together. I am truly happy for them.</p><p>But I also know that many women in this church <i>do not</i> feel included. Without changing any doctrine, there are some policies and church culture that could be changed to afford a space for some women to better reach their potential, especially if their spiritual gifts are not in the traditional sphere of caregiving and nurturing. Are women who feel excluded wrong in how they feel? Are they deceived by the feminists? Lost to the deceptive voices of the world? Is "all well in Zion, yea, Zion prospereth?" Are we pacified with the status quo of women at church? Do we spend more time decrying "radical feminism" and not enough time repenting and changing the ways we might be marginalizing women? In other words, if Nephi's sisters were to ask to write something to <i>their </i>posterity on our modern day golden plates, would we give them room to do so? Or would we just continue to let the men do the talking?</p><p><span style="background-color: white;">Last week at General Conference, I heard the voice of the Lord in the words of our prophet and apostles, and I felt the guidance and strength I needed. I was filled. But with only three women who made it to the pulpit, including the closing prayer, out of all 10 hours of the broadcast, I thought about how we can better fulfill President Nelson's plea for more women to step up and share their voices with us.</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;">Of course, the Holy Ghost can teach us regardless of the gender of the messenger, and I do not mean to sow seeds of discontent in an otherwise marvelous conference. I sustain those who are specially set apart as special witnesses of Christ, and respect that they may be given priority in their messages. I do not claim insight into how speakers are chosen, but I do wonder: if there is no precedent for how women can speak up and share their voice at the highest levels, how can this happen on the ground? As one blogger writes, "<a href="https://bycommonconsent.com/2021/04/06/you-cant-listen-to-women-if-they-arent-invited-to-speak/">You</a><a href="https://bycommonconsent.com/2021/04/06/you-cant-listen-to-women-if-they-arent-invited-to-speak/"> can't listen to women if they aren't invited to speak."</a></span></p><p>I do not know how much more needs to be done to give Nephi's sisters a voice and an identity today, but I am certain we can improve. I believe the first step to progress is to listen to our sisters, both those who are happy with the status quo and those who are not. I am not always the best at this, as my wife will hasten to tell you, but I am trying. Some of the necessary changes will come quietly, through the gentle voice of revelation. Others will require courage and a struggle. All will come from asking the Lord as we go to Him over and over again for guidance. Some of those changes to give women a voice will require official channels, but most, I think, are simply cultural attitudes that will fall away as everyday members persistently seek and ask how to include our sisters in the church. Regardless, it is going to take a lot of work. I do not believe God wants us to wait around for instructions on how to do this.</p><p>Unfortunately, many women are feeling more out of place in a church that is designed for Nephi. Young women in particular, I believe, are hungry for a church that is better suited to their needs. We have a rising generation of youth that is very comfortable asking questions and expecting cultural and official teachings that promote gender equality. We have young women who want to serve, but don't know how in a church designed by, and for, their brothers. </p><p>And for the men, it will require active listening without assuming that we have already achieved equality in the church. Not yet, my brothers. Gender inequality is the most persistent, lingering result of the Fall of Adam and Eve. It is the foundation of the lone and dreary world. We will stay lone and dreary until we are side by side with our sisters as equal partners. The bride is not ready for the bridegroom. Bringing men and women together is the only thing that will bring us back into Eden's paradisiacal glory. At least, that is the symbolism I feel in the temple.</p><p>As contention increases inside and out of the church, we need more than ever a church designed by and for women as well as the men. We need the witness of Nephi's sisters to stabilize us, and while I might emphasize they are not responsible to "fix" the men, adding their voice alongside ours will stop us from falling into the same male-dominated patterns of contention like the Nephites did. Their voices are greatly needed.</p><p><b>Stay with Nephi</b></p><p>In the end, in spite of his weaknesses, Nephi's unnamed sisters remained with him. Nephi records, </p><p></p><blockquote>"Wherefore, it came to pass that I, Nephi, did take my family, and also Zoram and his family, and Sam, mine elder brother and his family, and Jacob and Joseph, my younger brethren, and also my sisters, and all those who would go with me. And all those who would go with me were those who believed in the warnings and the revelations of God; wherefore, they did hearken unto my words."</blockquote><p></p><p>Today, I pray for the same. That our sisters will stay with us in Christ in spite of our shortcomings. That they will stay with <i>me</i> in spite of <i>my</i> numerous blunders. The only thing that will make this happen is mine and our repentance.</p><p>I know we have a prophet who guides us to safety in the wilderness towards Jesus Christ. I believe a large part of the ongoing restoration is the restoration of truths about gender equality. Just as the early saints kept their faith in Zion in spite of the failures of their leaders, in spite of the times when reality did not match with the ideal, we can forgive each other, bear with each other, and listen to each other.</p><p>For that to happen, we need Nephi's sisters to have a name. We need them to have an independent identity, and to speak and lead us on our journey. We need men to be proactive in allowing space for women to lead. We need both Lehi and Sariah's faith to be given equal weight on the record as we flee the wickedness of gender inequality at Jerusalem, making our way slowly, painfully, toward the promised land.</p><p>We need Nephi's sisters now more than ever as we continue to build our eternal families in the wilderness.</p>Christopherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15437446356877845822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6611405196094714220.post-21334341787072159622021-04-02T01:35:00.007-06:002021-04-02T07:52:18.127-06:00Beholding the Wind, the Earthquake, and the Fire<p>Tomorrow is General Conference.</p><p>It has got me thinking this week about how the Lord speaks to me, and how I can prepare myself to hear the voice of the Lord.</p><p>In the Book of Mormon, before the resurrected Lord appeared to the Nephites, there were some dramatic geological changes. Earthquakes, mighty winds, and fires broke up the rocks, buried their loved ones, and devastated their communities. In their disrupted state, it says "they heard a voice...and it was not a harsh voice, neither was it a loud voice; nevertheless, and notwithstanding it being a small voice it did pierce them that did hear to the center." (3 Nephi 11:3)</p><p>We have had some significant shifts in our socio-political landscape recently. I think I have more respect for the earthquake, the wind, and the fire than I ever used to. Most importantly, I appreciate the way this pandemic and the turmoil of 2020 has prepared my heart to hear the voice of the Lord.</p><p><b>Revelation Can Come from the Bottom</b></p><p>I used to believe that all revelation for the world must come from the top-down, from the prophet. I still believe that when it comes to official policies and changes to the church structure, this is true. I leave that to them. But I do not believe that the work of seeking and preparing for those policy changes leading up to those answers is up to them. It is my job to be a seeker, to ask my questions and engage with difficult issues until my heart breaks wide open and the Lord can speak with a whisper to my heart. If we just passively wait for God to speak to us by semiannual announcement over the pulpit, it removes our responsibility in the process of revelation. It would disengage us from the process, and not to mention make us very angsty and powerless. We might find ourselves wringing our hands when our leaders aren't saying the things we want them to say. We might wonder why our prophets act more like administrators, or like custodians of the church in Zarahemla, instead of crying repentance on the wall like Samuel the Lamanite.</p><p>The teachings of prophets at conference and throughout the year have stayed relatively constant: a pleading for faith in Jesus Christ, repentance, and covenant making and keeping. The announcement of temples adds a bit of zing semiannually, but it is still a predictable part of the conference. Even the recent changes from our current prophet President Nelson that we breathlessly talk about, not to minimize their significance, are really more like "small and simple" policy changes, things like moving church services from 3 hours to 2, a new ministering program, young women can now hand out a towel at the baptismal font, older and younger men are realigned into a single Elders Quorum, women can give their nod as witnesses when a person goes all the way under the water, and single men can now serve in bishoprics. All these changes are just small shifts that reflect greater, much more miraculous trends in a changing world. If all we see are these policy changes, we might miss the "marvelous work and a wonder" part that the Lord is doing in the world.</p><p>When it comes to the social change that is required to make space for the restoration, it is a collaboration of many. Revelation of this kind is more likely to be bottom-up. Grassroots movements lead out to address major problems in our society, and we now have the technology to make these conversations go even farther, faster. Not all of these movements are good or inspired, of course, and some are downright dangerous spiritually, but when a group of people seek for something good, either within or without of the church, and as we seek the will of the Lord as these things flash across our news pages, it can open the doors for further revelations from God. </p><p>The next step, it seems, is for the church to then quietly adjust its policies to reflect the revelatory changes that are already happening in the world. It is a much more inclusive, collaborative approach, with many good people outside the church being recruited by the Lord in the process of preparing the world for Christ. This can be frustrating to some who believe that the church isn't leading out more on serious issues, but I believe it is more in line with way God works. He doesn't do a job with one servant when he can use a million, so that more people, both inside the church and out, can receive the blessings of their service.</p><p>In short, we need to get over the idea that we are the only heroes preparing the world for the Second Coming. </p><div>Too often we disparage the work that goes on outside of the church. The protests, the marches, the battles for a cause. Yes, sometimes it is loud. Sometimes it is messy. Sometimes it is complicated. It is always done by imperfect people, and we always need the spirit to know which political storms are bringing us closer to Zion, and which ones are taking us further away. And yes, we do need to be careful that we are not so caught up in the earthquake that we miss the still small voice that comes after. But the work of preparing the world for the second coming must first be loud, messy, and complicated. Slavery didn't end without a fight. Women's suffrage wasn't handed out without making some noise. Civil rights don't happen without a protest. With todays numerous issues, it is obvious that corrupt power will not relent to our demands quietly. Instead of turning our back on that work of preparation for God's Kingdom to expand, we can stand on the mount with Elijah and behold it. Be grateful for it. Feel the way the Lord comes quietly to His people after every noisy political storm. </div><p><b>Beholding the Earthquake, Wind, and Fire</b></p><p>My mind keeps going back to Elijah's vision on the mount. Elijah had been called of God and retired to a cave, feeling completely overwhelmed and frustrated in his responsibility as prophet. It says, "he requested for himself that he might die; and said, It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life; for I am not better than my fathers." The Lord continued to feed Elijah in his dejected state for forty days by ravens. After that, the Lord asked, "What doest thou here, Elijah?"</p><div>In that moment, Elijah stood upon the mountain, </div><div><blockquote>"And behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the Lord; but the Lord was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake; but the Lord was not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice." (1 Kings 19:9-12)</blockquote></div><div>Like the case of the Nephites, it feels like there is a preparatory role that the wind, earthquake, and fire must play before Elijah can receive the quiet voice of the Lord. These forces rend mountains, break in pieces the rocks, and make room for <i>something else </i>to move in. As we look around the world and see the political movements, the social change, the upheavals, the social media comment threads and arguments, the loud clamor of the world, we can see how it provides needed change and also the catalyst for our own quiet moments with the Lord. Joseph Smith would never have retired to a grove of trees without the "war of words and tumult of opinions" that prepared his mind to seek for the Lord. </div><div><br /></div><div>We cannot receive difficult answers without asking difficult questions.</div><div><p>Before the Restoration, there was the Reformation. Noisy men and women who broke up the rocks of religious persecution for us and were martyrs to make God's word available to the boy who drives the plow. Today, the work of breaking up the social and political landscape to make space for the still small voice is ongoing. The work of the noisy laborers goes forward in tandem with the stillness of the restoration. We may not like the sounds of jackhammers and bulldozers and nail guns outside our window, but we had better get used to it, because they are busy building our house. And maybe we should get out there and help throw a hammer, too.</p><p>From our messy efforts in whatever cause we feel inspired to enlist in, I believe that the Kingdom of God will always move forward quietly behind us, filling in carefully the spaces carved out for it by the winds and earthquakes and fires we make.</p><p>"But the Lord was not in the earthquake." The role of the church never was to be a major player on the stage of politics. That is a role given to regular, ordinary people, like you and me, regardless of our religion or lack thereof. By in large, it is up to us to do the work of asking and seeking for greater knowledge, not to wait idly by for Elijah, or President Nelson, or God's representative to mandate social justice from the mount.</p><p>"If you have desires to serve, ye are called to the work."</p></div><p><b>To Whom Shall We Go?</b></p><p>At the end of a pandemic year, and after a year of disappointments, disillusionment, and frustrations, perhaps feeling our spiritual hopes crash against the harshness of reality, some of us may be questioning our faith. We might see the failures of our own church to measure up to our ideals. Others may just feel underwhelmed. After so long being fed on pathetic morsels of nourishment brought to us by the ravens in a cave of pandemic isolation, we might feel the Lord asking us, as I have felt Him ask to me, "What doest thou here, Christopher?"</p><p>Or, as Christ asked Peter after so many left Him when He failed to live up to their expectations as a mover and a shaker in the political issues of their day, "Will you also go away?"</p><div>Last Sunday as I looked at the tokens of Christ's body and blood up there on the stand, and looking around the chapel at the good "small and simple" people gathered around me, I felt, as Peter did, the words in my heart, "Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life." (John 6:68)</div><div><br /></div><div>What the church does is different from the earthquake, or the wind, or the fire. It is quiet. It is small and simple. It is "peace, not as the world giveth." It is the church of the same man who was found quietly doing good away from the power structures that existed in His day. His work takes place in the souls of men and women, filling the emptiness left by the storms, and healing the unseen woundedness of our hearts. He is the God of lepers, of blind men, and of the woman at the well. It was Bethlehem that defined His life the most. He was a great big giant letdown to those who wanted Him to skip the small stuff and overthrow the Roman Empire already and stop wasting time with simple sermons about faith and repentance and baptism.</div><div><br /></div><div>Whatever keys were turned at the start of this dispensation, whatever messengers are being sent today, whatever heavenly seals are being opened in preparation for the Second Coming, they are going to come from God to the whole world, and involve not just a few. I hope to be involved when I can. And always, like Elijah, I will stand on my mount and behold it all with wonder and thanksgiving, recognizing the hand of the Lord when I see it.</div><div><br /></div><div>And after the earthquake and fire and wind that passes by in my newsfeed each week, I will make sure that I spend time with that still small voice, and return to Christ's sacrament table every Sunday, "that I may always have His [still, small] spirit to be with me."</div><div><br /></div><div>So, considering all that has happened in the last six months, I will be looking for a still small voice, not an earthquake, tomorrow at General Conference.</div>Christopherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15437446356877845822noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6611405196094714220.post-56325517453978527282021-01-05T23:27:00.027-07:002021-01-07T00:05:18.301-07:00The Fall of the Gentiles and the Gathering of Israel<p><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">So long, 2020. It's good to have you in my rearview mirror.</span></p><p><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">There were a lot of things that made me feel frustrated last year. Like, a lot frustrated. However, one of the things that really helped me put perspective on things was that old faithful book, the Book of Mormon. Studying it this year was good therapy. It calmed me down. It gave me peace. It helped me forgive. It helped me see that the political and social shifts going on around me fit into a larger prophetic narrative.</span></p><p><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">It was quite a ride reading the Book of Mormon alongside the news in 2020. The Book of Mormon reads like the fieldnotes of a civilization that fell apart, which is kind of what this year has felt like to me. Through it all, though, there is one insight that has really struck me this year, and it coincides perfectly with the message of our current prophet:</span></p><p></p><blockquote><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">"There is <i>nothing</i> happening on this earth right now that is more important than [the gathering of Israel.] There is <i>nothing </i>of greater consequence. Absolutely <i>nothing.</i>" (<a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/broadcasts/worldwide-devotional-for-young-adults/2018/06/hope-of-israel?lang=eng">Russell M. Nelson, Hope of Israel, March 2019.</a>)</span></blockquote><p></p><p><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">Yes, even more important than a pandemic. Even more important than a tumultuous American election year. More important than any headline making waves today. Compared to the gathering of Israel, all the rest is just "fake news" in comparison.</span></p><p><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">The Book of Mormon says a lot of different things, but it seems to weave it all into one central narrative: there is a literal gathering of Israel. I have always been<span> struck by the role that the Gentiles play in the gathering of Israel, but most interesting to me this year was how the scriptures explain that the Gentiles place in the spotlight would inevitably come to an end.</span></span></p><blockquote><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;"><span>"These sayings which ye shall write [the Book of Mormon] shall be kept and shall be manifested unto the Gentiles</span><span>, that through the fulness of the Gentiles, the remnant of [Israel's] seed, who shall be scattered forth upon the face of the earth because of their unbelief</span><span>, may be brought in, or may be brought to a knowledge</span><span> of me, their Redeemer. </span><span>And then will I gather</span><span> them in from the four quarters of the earth; and then will I fulfil the covenant</span><span> which the Father hath made unto all the people of the house of Israel</span><span>. </span> </span></blockquote><blockquote><span><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;"><span>"And blessed are the Gentiles</span><span>, because of their belief in me, in and of the Holy Ghost, which witnesses</span><span> unto them of me and of the Father. </span><span>Behold, because of their belief in me, saith the Father, and because of the unbelief of you, O house of Israel, in the latter days</span><span> shall the truth come unto the Gentiles</span><span>, that the fulness of these things shall be made known unto them." (3 Nephi 16)</span></span></span></blockquote><p><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">Who are the Gentiles, and what makes them so special?</span></p><p><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">The definition of Gentile varies in scripture, but it is clear enough in the Book of Mormon that in the last days, the Gentiles would arrive on the scene to possess the land of the Americas, and that through them the restoration would begin and the Book of Mormon would come forth. Based on the outline of history, the Gentiles in the Book of Mormon could refer mainly to those of European descent. </span></p><p><span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #0c343d; display: inline; float: none; font-family: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;">Racial identity is always a tricky and problematic social construct to define today, but if you celebrate the Mayflower somewhere in your family tree, it is probably you. It is me. It is Europeans. It is, generally, white America. It is those who have held power in this country for the last 200+ years.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;"><span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; display: inline; float: none; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;">To understand the plot of this story, one has to understand the covenant that God made to Israel. To the descendants of Abraham, Issac, and Jacob, God promised, among other things, land and power over their enemies. They were God's chosen people to receive the priesthood, and that the Messiah would come through them. But the Israelites were more than a little bit rebellious, they sought after other gods, and over time they were scattered. But the covenant still stands, and in the last days it is prophesied that they would be gathered back together like the branches of the olive tree, that "the last shall be first and the first shall be last." In other words, the gospel would be taken from them and given to the Gentiles. Thus E</span></span><span style="background-color: white;">urope, not Israel, became the capital of Christianity.</span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">However, the Gentiles are not the focus of the covenant. They are a means to an end in fulfilling the covenant. They are, in a way, dispensable. Mormon writes:</span></p><p><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #0c343d; display: inline; float: none; font-family: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"></span></p><blockquote><span><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; display: inline; float: none; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;">"</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;">I have charity for the Gentiles. But behold, for none of these</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"> can I hope except they shall be reconciled</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"> unto Christ, and enter into the narrow gate</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;">, and walk</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"> in the strait</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"> path which leads to life, and continue in the path until the end of the day of probation</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;">." (2 Nephi 33:9)</span></span></span></blockquote><p class="verse" data-aid="128344908" id="p23" style="--height: 127.688px; background-color: white; border-image: none; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0.65em; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">Christ explains this further:</span></p><blockquote><p class="verse" data-aid="128348839" id="p8" style="--height: 150.688px; background-color: white; border-image: none; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0.65em; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">"But wo, saith the Father, unto the unbelieving of the Gentiles—for notwithstanding they have come forth upon the face of this land, and have scattered my people who are of the house of Israel; and my people who are of the house of Israel have been cast out from among them, and have been trodden under feet by them;</span></p><p class="verse" data-aid="128348840" id="p9" style="--height: 173.688px; background-color: white; border-image: none; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0.65em; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">"And because of the mercies of the Father unto the Gentiles, and also the judgments of the Father upon my people who are of the house of Israel, verily, verily, I say unto you, that after all this, I have caused my people who are of the house of Israel to be smitten, and to be afflicted, and to be slain, and to be cast out from among them, and to become hated by them, and to become a hiss and a byword among them." (3 Nephi 16:8-9)</span></p></blockquote><p><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">It is a horrible matter of historical record that Europeans have been anything but kind to the nations where Israel is most likely to be represented. The Native Americans in both the north and south were smitten and massacred and dehumanized; colonialism and greed desolated nation after nation; and racism has ever been an integral part of our history. Alongside our pious desire to spread the word of God through Christian missionary work, we simultaneously were also caught pillaging the resources and disrupting the political and social order of the nations where we were supposedly spreading a message of peace and love. As Europeans dominated the world, so did our abuse against Israel, particularly against people of color. It is precisely as prophesied, but justice for their wrongs is always a key part of God's promise to His people.</span></p><p><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">The great dramatic irony is that those same Gentile nations who scattered them would also be responsible for gathering them back again.</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;"></span></p><p><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;"></span></p><blockquote><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">"Thus saith the Lord God: Behold, I will lift up mine hand to the Gentiles, and set up my standard to the people; and they shall bring thy sons in their arms, and thy daughters shall be carried upon their shoulders.</span></p><p class="verse" data-aid="128344908" id="p23" style="--height: 127.688px; background-color: white; border-image: none; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0.65em; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">"And kings shall be thy nursing fathers, and their queens thy nursing mothers; they shall bow down to thee with their face towards the earth, and lick up the dust of thy feet; and thou shalt know that I am the Lord; for they shall not be ashamed that wait for me." (Isaiah 49 as quoted in 1 Nephi 21:22-23)</span></p></blockquote><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">All this is common BOM Sunday School talk. Christopher Columbus, Europeans discovering America, the scattering of the descendants of Lehi on the American continent, Joseph Smith's role as a descendant of Joseph, and Ephraim's role in gathering Israel, grafting them one by one back into the tree through family history and missionary work.</span></p><p class="verse" data-aid="128344908" id="p23" style="--height: 127.688px; background-color: white; border-image: none; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0.65em; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">But something that became more and more apparent to me in 2020, and something which is prophesied in the Book of Mormon, was how terribly white America would eventually flunk out of the gospel program, speaking generally.</span></p><p></p><p><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">After the injustice of the Gentiles towards Israel, the day comes when a centuries old power dynamic is to be absolutely reversed. The day of the Gentile is prophesied to have an end, and scattered Israel throughout the world will begin to take back their place as God's chosen people.</span></p><p></p><blockquote><p class="verse" data-aid="128348841" id="p10" style="--height: 242.688px; background-color: white; border-image: none; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0.65em; vertical-align: baseline;"><span><span><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">[Jesus says] <span>And thus commandeth the Father that I should say unto you: <b><i>At that day</i> <i>when the Gentiles shall sin against my gospel</i></b>, and shall reject the fulness of my gospel, and shall be lifted up in the pride of their hearts above all nations<u>,</u> and above all the people of the whole earth,<u> </u>and shall be filled with all manner of lyings, and of deceits, and of mischiefs, and all manner of hypocrisy<u>,</u> and murders, and priestcrafts, and whoredoms, and of secret abominations; and if they shall do all those things, and shall reject the fulness of my gospel, behold, saith the Father, I will bring the fulness of my gospel from among them.</span></span></span></span></p><p class="verse" data-aid="128348842" id="p11" style="--height: 81.6875px; background-color: white; border-image: none; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0.65em; vertical-align: baseline;"><span><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;"><span><b><i>And then will I remember my covenant which I have made unto my people</i>, </b>O house of Israel, and I will bring my gospel unto them. </span><span>And I will show unto thee, O house of Israel, that the Gentiles shall not have power over you; but I will remember my covenant unto you, O house of Israel, and ye shall come unto the knowledge</span><span> of the fulness of my gospel.</span></span></span></p></blockquote><p><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">Only <i>after </i>the Gentiles reject the gospel, <i>then </i>will God remember His covenant to gather up His people. The gathering is only just starting. If this description of the falling away of the old power structure to make way for the new one reads like the newsreel of today, you might be right.</span></p><p><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;"><span><span>I</span></span></span><span style="color: #0c343d;">f ever there were a time when, speaking generally, white America has turned away from the gospel of Jesus Christ, it may be now. Not only do we have the slow decay of godless secularism and general hedonism always growing in our society, but we also see moral decay from those who should know better---the Christian right. It feels like, more than ever, white Christians have lost their way. </span></p><p><span style="color: #0c343d;">Even more troubling, antagonism towards those who have been scattered and oppressed---the literal House of Israel---is growing in America. Those in power are less and less interested in protecting the vulnerable, which was once the defining hallmark of American greatness. We are becoming less and less interested in "carrying Israel on our shoulders" and more interested in pursuing our own selfish interests. </span></p><p><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="background-color: white;">As Israel is gathered and grows in power and influence, so does the threat to old hierarchies. It is small wonder that white nationalists have started rallying in full force to protest the shifting power dynamic that moves decidedly towards the oppressed: blacks, Native Americans, and other people of color---basically any who were once marginalized, abused, and scattered. In other words, Israel. Tellingly, some even going so far as to chant angrily at pro-Trump rallies, "Jews will not replace us!" Unaware of Book of Mormon prophesy, the irony is certainly lost on them. Though this is admittedly a small minority, the feeling of being replaced or left out of society is the absolute fuel for the alt-right movement, and is widespread.</span></span></p><p><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; display: inline; float: none; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"></span></span></p><p><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">As a society, never before has our fall from Christian principles been as obvious as it has been in 2020. The cozy relationship that white America has made with some decidedly un-Christlike politicians, for example, and most notably the current American president, demonstrates (to me anyway) that the fall of the Gentile is well underway. White Christian men applaud politely while the ultimate metaphor for the collapse of Christian decency and moral authority, as embodied in the persona of Donald Trump, blusters on about immigrants and refugees, disregards the oppressed, spreads a steady stream of lies and mischief, protects the interests of the crooked and the shamefully wealthy, and acts with complete disregard, contempt even, for the vulnerable to whom he has responsibility, particularly in this pandemic, and all this with a Christian church as backdrop and an unread bible as prop. </span></p><p><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">The current presidency gained momentum from the start by focusing on the fear of Latinos and other ethnic minorities, trying to halt as much as possible the gathering of Israel in the United States of America. All this, to me, has a parallel to the prophesies in the Book of Mormon, that literal Israel would grow in power and authority on the American continent, and that they would be seen as a threat to the unbelieving Gentiles. </span></p><p><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">People have seen the changing face of America, perhaps even more so after seeing a person of color as president. Alarmed, they work desperately to bring back a time when God's chosen people were still white. Sensing their fall from power, there are many people who would like to "Make America great again," (white America, it wasn't so great for people of color) and do so without their arms open to the vulnerable, the downtrodden, and the stranger--to scattered Israel--which is a definite requirement of this land. </span></p><p><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">Nevertheless, churches are filling up more and more with immigrants and ethnic minorities, and the gathering of Israel is taking place beneath our very noses. Meanwhile, white America is found less interested in ancient promises and more interested in defending their political and economic advantage. In this they will fail.</span></p><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"></span><p></p><p><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;"><span>This tumultuous year may well mark the end of an era of </span><span>Gentile spiritual stewardship and moral authority. The Christianity of the new predominately white alt-right movement has departed so drastically from the teachings of Christ as to be almost entirely unrecognizable. We can't undo what has been done.</span></span></p><p><span><span style="background-color: white; color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;"></span></span></p><blockquote><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;"><span><span style="background-color: white;"><span></span><span></span>And the Gentiles are lifted up in the pride</span><span style="background-color: white;"> of their eyes, and have stumbled</span><span style="background-color: white;">, because of the greatness of their stumbling block</span><span style="background-color: white;">, that they have built up many churches</span><span style="background-color: white;">; nevertheless, they put down</span><span style="background-color: white;"> the power and miracles of God, and preach up unto themselves their own wisdom and their own learning</span><span style="background-color: white;">, that they may get gain and grind</span><span style="background-color: white;"> upon the face of the poor.</span> (2 Nephi 26:20)</span><span><br /></span></span></blockquote><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;"></span><blockquote><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;"><span><span><span>And the blood of that great and abominable church, which is the whore of all the earth, shall turn upon their own heads; for they shall war among themselves, and the sword of their own hands shall fall upon their own heads, and they shall be drunken with their own blood. (1 Nephi 22:13)<span> </span></span></span></span></span></blockquote><p></p><p></p><p class="verse" data-aid="128348845" id="p14" style="--height: 81.6875px; background-color: white; border-image: none; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0.65em; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">I can't think of a more dramatic demise to white America's place as moral authority than what has just transpired in 2020, as the great and abominable churches of political conservatism and liberalism tear each other apart, "drunken with their own blood." I fear it is far from over yet. And unfortunately, many latter-day saints are far too eager to be a part of it.</span></p><p class="verse" data-aid="128348845" id="p14" style="--height: 81.6875px; background-color: white; border-image: none; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0.65em; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">But the good news is, it gets better. Those willing to be a part of the gathering, no matter how little Israel blood they have in their veins, have great blessings in store for them. The gathering has less to do with race or any other category as it does with "healing the brokenhearted, proclaiming liberty to the captive, and opening the prison to those who are bound." (Isaiah 61:1)</span></p><p class="verse" data-aid="128348845" id="p14" style="--height: 81.6875px; background-color: white; border-image: none; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0.65em; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">Whoever they are, those who have been oppressed and abused (Israel) will be passed the baton of power in this nation as it passes out of the hand of the Gentiles.<span> All the injustice, abuse, and pain of the centuries shall be made right, and the power and authority of Israel will be restored to them at last, both temporally and spiritually.</span></span></p><blockquote><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">"And my people who are a remnant of Jacob shall be among the Gentiles, yea, in the midst of them as a lion among the beasts of the forest, as a young lion among the flocks of sheep, who, if he go through both treadeth down and teareth in pieces, and none can deliver."</span></blockquote><p></p><p class="verse" data-aid="128348845" id="p14" style="--height: 81.6875px; background-color: white; border-image: none; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0.65em; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">In other words, white America is going to get a thrashing if they don't get on board to help with God's covenant to the oppressed.</span></p><p><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;"></span></p><blockquote><p><span><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;"><span>Yea, wo be unto the Gentiles except they repent,</span><span> for it shall come to pass in that day, saith the Father, that I will cut off thy horses out of the midst of thee, and I will destroy thy chariots</span><span>; </span><span>And I will cut off the cities of thy land, and throw down all thy strongholds.</span><span> </span></span></span></p><p><span><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;"><span>And I will execute vengeance</span><span> and fury</span><span> upon them, even as upon the heathen, such as they have not heard.</span><span> </span><span> </span></span></span></p><p><span><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;"><span>But if they will repent and hearken unto my words, and harden not their hearts, I will establish my church among them</span><span>, and </span><span>they shall come in unto the covenant and be numbered among this the remnant of Jacob, unto whom I have given this land for their inheritance. (3 Nephi 21)</span><span> </span></span></span></p></blockquote><p><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;"></span></p><p><span><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">And there's<span> the rub: <i>This land is not ours.</i> It is on loan to us, and only so far as we are willing to do the work in redeeming captive Israel can we be numbered as heirs with Israel to dwell in it. If we want to have a place in this land, we certainly can, but it's not going to happen while moaning about the immigrants, whether they come legally or not; nor by shutting our doors to the refugees, fretting about the Muslims, or denying that the face of America is changing. We can't chant "All Lives Matter" at God's covenant people. We can't build a wall to stop the gathering of Israel.</span></span></span></p><p><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">If we want to be a part of this land, we need to repent. </span></p><p><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">Behold I say unto you that as many of the Gentiles as will repent are the covenant people of the Lord; and as many of the Jews as will not repent shall be cast off; for the Lord covenanteth with none save it be with them that repent and believe in his Son, who is the Holy One of Israel. (2 Nephi 30:2)</span></blockquote><p></p><p><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;"><span><span>As outlined in the Book of Mormon, we need to do our part to gather downtrodden Israel. This is not necessarily a specific race, or one specific group, though we do have some clues. Israel is simply whoever we can find who has been downtrodden, marginalized, left out of the power structure, and abused.</span></span><span> It is the ultimate affirmative action program. We need to be willing to carry Israel on our shoulders. We need to be their nursing fathers and nursing mothers.</span></span></p><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;"><p><span>One of the ways we carry Israel on our shoulders is to fight against racism. There are many ways to do this. We might support the influx of Syrian refugee families seeking asylum. We might work to help distressed families at the Mexican border, or speak out against deplorable human rights violations by the US government there. We</span><span> may feel a desire to support our black</span><span> brothers and sisters and march with them when they seek justice for centuries of abuse and ongoing racism. We might protest with Native Americans as they demand their rights to their land. Or, more simply, we might help whatever person we see who needs to be gathered, regardless of their nationality.</span></p><p><span>Gathering takes many forms, but refusing to be a part of the process may mean risking being torn to pieces spiritually by the emerging young lion of Israel among our flock of sheep.</span></p><p><span></span></p><blockquote><span><span><span>But if the Gentiles will repent and return unto me, saith the Father, behold they shall be numbered among my people, O house of Israel. </span><span>And I will not suffer my people, who are of the house of Israel, to go through among them, and tread them down, saith the Father. (3 Nephi 16:13)</span></span></span></blockquote><p>It's the only way to inherit this land. </p><span></span><p></p><p><span>In conclusion, the Book of Mormon is not just a book about our individual relationship to Jesus Christ, but it is also about our relationship to each other. It </span><span>is an instruction manual on how to crash a big ginormous family reunion that we are invited to, even if we are only very distantly related, even if we hail from the most far-flung, furthest remote islands from Jerusalem, even as far as the British Isles.</span></p><p><span>The Book of Mormon is both radical and progressive. It demands a new world order. It is a book that calls upon us to fight for equality and social justice. It invites us each to be individually grafted into the tree of Christ, and to help gather the original branches that have been scattered around the vineyard. It is a guidebook for peace and charity.</span></p><p><span>It is a book we need a lot more of today.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOMfpJNyydX5O42yhkLDKPFb9ekb-NCUo1rUKEZ9Atkyo3MDNCXU074jLuWNNG_Dh6I3rPV_572GULhPwXkowhdK23dCUvQ__uvneJvk4H24sEl2tBrQnQf-1ICZcf1D4LlFOVFkFJ8NQd/s1200/5b520e0181e72.image.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1200" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOMfpJNyydX5O42yhkLDKPFb9ekb-NCUo1rUKEZ9Atkyo3MDNCXU074jLuWNNG_Dh6I3rPV_572GULhPwXkowhdK23dCUvQ__uvneJvk4H24sEl2tBrQnQf-1ICZcf1D4LlFOVFkFJ8NQd/w640-h426/5b520e0181e72.image.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><span></span></div></span><p></p><p><a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/scriptures/bofm/1-ne/22?lang=eng"><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">1 Nephi 22</span></a></p><p><a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/scriptures/bofm/2-ne/6?lang=eng"><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">2 Nephi 6</span></a></p><p><a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/scriptures/bofm/2-ne/26?lang=eng"><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">2 Nephi 26</span></a></p><p><a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/scriptures/bofm/2-ne/30?lang=eng"><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">2 Nephi 30</span></a></p><p><a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/scriptures/bofm/2-ne/33?lang=eng"><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">2 Nephi 33</span></a></p><p><a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/scriptures/bofm/jacob/5?lang=eng"><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">Jacob 5</span></a></p><p><a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/scriptures/bofm/3-ne/16?lang=eng"><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">3 Nephi 16</span></a></p><p><a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/scriptures/bofm/3-ne/21?lang=eng"><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: inherit;">3 Nephi 21</span></a></p>Christopherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15437446356877845822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6611405196094714220.post-56852781721705990282020-12-17T22:32:00.024-07:002020-12-17T23:48:57.708-07:00Undecorating the Tree<p>Our Christmas tree has got a lot of ornaments on it this year. It is borderline absurd, but it is full of nostalgia and I love it. I have tacky ornaments I made in kindergarten, mixed together with the delicate glass ornaments that we got for our wedding 14 years ago. There is a creepy Santa ornament from who knows where. We have a glass bulb that says "Adrien" on it, even though we have no idea who Adrien is. There are 'First Christmas" ornaments for each of our children, and then there are the special and carefully chosen ornaments of our kids from their aunt and uncle each year. There are even just random items that our kids thought to stick a hook on and hang it on the tree. It is all quite messy and very lovely. The lights manage to shine brightly through all the ornaments, and I can still feel the spirit of Christmas when I sit quietly taking it all in from the couch in the darkness.</p><p>But I have to admit, with all those ornaments, it can be hard to see the Christmas tree underneath all those decorations.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE4tagwQc2rOu4GJYE_XXJMYrQmH2BIWnkBIZbp13_HQiVXQHcgRwEwRNwUwIdhp9DVOqBk-CUK6ZH8XFmdJvhUVbEScbv-LFI92FVP2KV3_FDm83JIoHkTiMwN8EYwOFNVfSqu4YqXyam/s880/Christmas+tree.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="880" data-original-width="661" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE4tagwQc2rOu4GJYE_XXJMYrQmH2BIWnkBIZbp13_HQiVXQHcgRwEwRNwUwIdhp9DVOqBk-CUK6ZH8XFmdJvhUVbEScbv-LFI92FVP2KV3_FDm83JIoHkTiMwN8EYwOFNVfSqu4YqXyam/w300-h400/Christmas+tree.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;">________________________________</p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"><u>Looking Beyond the Ornaments</u></p></blockquote><p>When I was growing up, I remember being taught quite forcefully, "No matter what happens, no matter what trials or questions you might have, you <i>always</i> go to church." It was a good lesson, but I laughed just a bit to myself this year when the pandemic hit, and I was suddenly commanded by the prophet to <i>stop</i> going to church.</p><p>I wonder if, with all the well-meaning rigor of trying to point me in the right direction, the focus was too much on the church and not enough on the Savior whose church it is<span style="background-color: white;">—</span>a little too much ornament and not enough tree.</p><p>The truth is, I love church. I always have. I love the gathering, the rituals, the forced tittering that goes out over the congregation when the same old icebreaker jokes re-emerge at the beginning of a talk. I miss the awkward conversations in the foyers and the crying babies being taken out by their parents. I miss the smiley grandpa ushers at the doors. I miss the rustle of green hymn books. I miss the teenage boy slip-ups over the sacrament prayers and the too-long primary presentations, and that one blessed member who always gets up and bears their quirky testimony. I miss the full pews and the last-minute clanking of metal chairs in the back as more people trickle in. I miss the smiling, mask-less faces. I miss the pulpit kleenex box and the scratchy walls in the hallway and the basketball hoops hanging over the congregation at the back. And oh how I miss the singing!</p><p>It filled my soul up.</p><p>But, as it turns out, all of that stuff was just ornaments on the tree.</p><p>During the past several months, there have been times when, trying to reconstruct my weekly worship, I almost felt spiritually orphaned. Home church was wonderful enough, and of course I loved gathering for the sacrament in my living room with my kids, and being able to participate more intimately in the emblems of the Lord's Supper. But I admit that I felt just a little bit lost without the traditions, the social side of church, and unwritten parts of my worship that have grown up with me right alongside my own hardwood testimony of Christ. </p><p>I never realized how much I would miss "rubbing shoulders with such good brothers and sisters."</p><p>But I think the time away was well spent, because it forced me to focus on something even more important than church<span style="background-color: white;">—</span>my own personal relationship with Christ.</p><p>All that stuff I have been missing you might call the <i>form </i>of the gospel. The ritual, the physical church building, and all the outward expressions of my faith that were expressed therein. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is a vessel, a carrier of the message of Jesus Christ, and a very good one, I believe. But I think sometimes I have confused the <i>form </i>with the <i>substance </i>of my Christian faith. I wonder if I have sometimes been guilty of over-emphasizing the church over the Christ. It has been a hard lesson for me to learn.</p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"><i><u>Form vs Substance</u></i></p></blockquote><p>It is very easy to talk about the form of our faith. It is the statistics. It is the number of operational temples, the growing number of wards and branches, the number of missionaries, the callings, the policies, the formal and informal liturgy, the callings, the people in the pews<span style="background-color: white;">—</span>all the outward expressions of our worship. They are measurable. We can talk all day long about the dollars spent (or not spent) on humanitarian aide, or the growing (or dropping) activity rates, the subject matter of conference talks, the policies, the programs, and even the most sacred and necessary parts of the gospel and why they are important. But it is much harder, impossible even, to measure the <i>substance.</i></p><p>What is the substance?</p><p>The substance is Jesus Christ, a very real resurrected being who lives today to change our hearts and our behavior with his everlasting love and grace. It is hard to <i>measure</i> the substance of Christ, because it is manifest in so many immeasurable ways, like an increase of love for a neighbor, a strengthened family bond, the unexpected forgiveness of an enemy, a changed heart, or the redemption of a sinner.</p><p>Both the <i>form </i>and the <i>substance </i>are necessary<span style="background-color: white;">—</span>you can't have the substance of your faith without having some kind of container to carry it in<span style="background-color: white;">—</span>but focusing on the <i>form</i> rather than on the <i>substance</i> can be spiritually damaging. Nephi taught:</p><blockquote><p>"And now, my beloved brethren, and also Jew, and all ye ends of the earth, hearken unto these words and believe in Christ; and if ye believe not in these words [the <i>form</i>], believe in Christ [the <i>substance.</i>] And if ye shall believe in Christ, ye will believe in these words, for they are the words of Christ, and he hath given them unto me; and they teach all men that they should do good. And if they are not the words of Christ, judge ye<span face="Palatino, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino-Roman, Pahoran, "Pahoran ldsLat", "Noto Sans Myanmar", NotoSansMyanmar, SaysetthaldsLao, NotoSerifTamil, serif" style="background-color: white;">—</span>for Christ will show unto you with power and great glory, that they are his words, at the last day." (2 Nephi 33:10-11)</p></blockquote><p>Nephi's method asks us to put our belief squarely on the substance, on Jesus Christ. If you don't believe in the Church right now, believe in Christ. If you really don't know how you feel right now about this messy church, for whatever reason (many of which may be well justified) well then, try just believing in Christ. Peel back the layers of ornaments and get a glimpse of the tree. Examine the substance, putting aside all the ornaments that may have overcrowded Him. Talk to Him. Listen to His Spirit. Faith in Christ will lead anyone to the path we need to follow Him in, in whatever form that may look like. Focusing on Christ leads us to make surprising changes, and take both the most wayward sinner and ardent believer to some unexpected places.</p><p>Basing our testimony on the <i>form </i>can be terribly limiting, because the form does not have any power in itself to save a soul or change a heart. The church's function is only to carry the substance of Christ's body and blood shed for us. The church is the imperfect vessel for the perfect Christ, and it must change, shift, mature, grow, recant, and make mistakes according to the times it is in, the inperfect leaders appointed, and the general sins and blindspots of a generation at any given moment. Having a testimony of the church without qualifying it with our belief in Christ will never end well, because the church is in a process of refinement as much as we ourselves are. Sometimes it leaks. Sometimes it has to change course and adjust the sails. But ultimately, if you want to know if this church works in its mission to bring you to Christ, you have to focus on Christ, not the vessel. <u>In the storm, the disciples didn't turn to the boat to save them. They turned to the Savior who was sleeping in it down below.</u></p><p>Sometimes I think we care more about keeping up with appearances with the <i>form</i> of our worship than we do about the <i>substance</i> of our worship. We often tell those that struggle to keep white-knuckling it, to <i>always go to church, "</i>fake it 'til you make it," as if we are looking to the church itself for our salvation. While I have learned for myself that the ordinances of the church are a necessary step to bring a person to Christ, and that our willingness to engage in the programs of the church can be essential to our spiritual growth, maybe the topic of church should not be the focus when we feel like a loved one is drifting away. Telling someone to believe in the Church and then, hopefully, somewhere along the line they will end up believing in Christ, is exactly backwards to the method Nephi recommends. </p><p>If we make Christ the focus of all our invitations, rather than the Church, I believe He will better shepherd our loved ones back to the covenant path, in whatever way that looks like for His children, and He will do it in <i>His</i> way and in<i> His</i> time. Instead of inviting to church, we should invite to Christ, starting with ourselves.</p><div><p>Over the past few years, our prophet has decreased church by an hour, then cancelled it altogether for most of this year. He has retired and simplified the programs. He has slowly (or not so slowly!) removed more and more of the bells and whistles of our worship, and repeatedly asked us to focus on Christ. President Nelson has emphasized the sacrament, asking us to re-examine the tokens of Christ's body and blood that we take into our bodies every week (which is a beautiful interplay between the form and substance of our worship.) He is consistently reinforcing the foundation we need in order to survive spiritually in this unstable world. That foundation is always Christ, not the church.</p><p>I will be the first to admit that this pandemic has been hard on me. I miss very much being able to participate unrestrained in the traditions and weird, wonderful culture that represents my spiritual heritage. I would love a good and awkward ward Christmas party right about now. I ache for the routines and rituals that gave me much needed support for my faith. Having it all stripped back to the absolute basics has felt like lion claws in my spiritual hide. But I think it has been good for me. Even after this pandemic is over, I can't imagine the church ever going back to where it was. This gives me a fair amount of anxiety, but also hope. We have grown out of a shell, in a sense, and I think we are getting ready to move into the next one. I look forward to witnessing that change. </p><p>We really have changed in 2020, and so has the world. Removing the many ornaments that have been accumulating for 200 years on the branches of this tree has been hard, but necessary. </p><p>I will continue to commit myself to the form of this church by keeping my covenants, but I am also grateful for this year that has taught me where I really need to place my focus: on the tree of life, on the evergreen branches of my Savior's grace, and on the only true substance of my faith.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRUMFbtT8AuCiywalA34DUADdwlP759Lns3DJidGgkCBt_FsJBOJG-8UX6_WBk6YOb9wmbDJ_jRVCHj_EFYkhiE7Uqp9iVcrxNAcXvGSYmC-lzof2R6DQYLCA7iKJitSa2lEd7zKJMKjPa/s852/Pine+bough.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="852" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRUMFbtT8AuCiywalA34DUADdwlP759Lns3DJidGgkCBt_FsJBOJG-8UX6_WBk6YOb9wmbDJ_jRVCHj_EFYkhiE7Uqp9iVcrxNAcXvGSYmC-lzof2R6DQYLCA7iKJitSa2lEd7zKJMKjPa/s320/Pine+bough.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p></div>Christopherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15437446356877845822noreply@blogger.com0