Clark tried to post a comment in response to the Provident Living blog that is too long for the blogspot comment box, so I'm inserting it here as a guest post:
I really appreciate you doing this blog. It helps me refocus on what's most important and what I need to do to have the spirit more in my life and move closer to Jesus.
In a minute I'm going to post anecdotal excerpts from two of my favorite talks. They're both about forgiveness. Interestingly, both talks were given by seasoned apostles in the last few meters of their ministry. The first one is simply entitled, "Forgiveness," by President Hinckley and was given in October 2005. The second was entitled, "The Healing Power of Forgiveness," and was, I believe, Elder Faust's final address at General Conference. What's also noteworthy is the heroes in the anecdotes who so beautifully demonstrated sweeping, thorough forgiveness in situations where merely refusing to hate seemed to be a Herculean task, weren't LDS. In Elder Faust's story it was an Amish community in Pennsylvania.
Since we're talking about guns let me put it this way. I think most of us, myself included, are far more eager to pull the trigger on justice than mercy. And there are plenty of scriptures or quotes from church leaders we have in our arsenal that affirm the justice of God. However, lately, I've been thinking about what is possibly the greatest gap between Saints with whom in many ways the Lord is well pleased, and the Lord himself. Could it be our inability to cry out on the cross in love and empathy, and not merely a stiff upper lip dignity, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." In Matthew 5:46-47 it says, "For if ye love them which love you, what reward have ye? do not even the publicans the same? And if you salute your brethren only, what do ye more than others? do not even the publicans so?"
I remember a "deep thought" from Jack Handy that went something like, 'I've resolved to be really kind and patient today, until some stupid jerk ticks me off, that is.' In Les Miserables, the turning point in Jean Valjean's life was when a compassionate bishop chose to not send the dogs after Jean Valjean after he stole a loaf of bread.
I've noticed a couple times in the scriptures there are passages in the blessed are ye if, followed by more blessed are ye if. Perhaps in this situation blessed are ye if you were wise like the 10 virgins in the parable who prepared their oil in advance of the wedding feast. Blessed are ye for being able to take care of your family. But is it unreasonable to suggest that perhaps more blessed are ye if you could sacrifice a little of your portion that you diligently prepared and is rightfully yours for someone who foolishly or ignorantly didn't and now out of desperation is begging or employing force to obtain something that isn't rightfully theirs?
It says in Alma that the Lord works in strange ways for the salvation of his people. There are more than a few examples throughout time of people who had previously made poor choices for whatever reason being saved and brought into the fold by someone who was Christ-like enough to offer them some mercy at a time when they rightfully could've been exposed to the whole demands of justice.
I get concerned when we seem to talk ourselves out of being a little more merciful and back up our views with church doctrine. I understand it's contrary to the nature of God to remove justice out of the equation. And that individuals need both for their own spiritual development. Sometimes inside of our families, and almost all times outside of our families, though, I'd say very few of us are in any danger of erring too much on the mercy side of the balance scale. If anything, we've loaded up our perceptions and emotions on the judgment side (even though our answers in gospel doctrine might indicate otherwise). But when injustice strikes, how we really feel and what we really believe is smoked out of us.
During the recent lead-up to the California vote to repeal gay marriage I wonder with what attitude we were heeding the prophetic call to oppose it. I like Alma 48: 23-24: "Now they were sorry to take up arms against the Lamanites, because they did not delight in the shedding of blood...." Were we humbly carrying out our charge to oppose gay marriage, without "railing accusation, that ye be not overcome, neither with boasting your rejoicing, lest you be seized wherewith" (instruction given in D&C 50:33 regarding casting out evil spirits)? Or was our faithfulness to the call, mixed a little with railing accusations, boasting, or rejoicing?
I, myself, am often guilty of what I term righteous indignation. But, I think I need to leave that to Jesus since he's far more righteous than me. In the meantime, I need to have more of a broken heart and contrite spirit, even in the face of opposing the adversary and his propaganda.
Finally, I fully believe in agency and my responsibility to take full accountability, and identify and overcome anything that is hindering me from doing that. But with other people, especially those who have tasted a seamier and darker side of life that I'm a stranger to I think my first reaction needs to be mercy, before I headlong rush into justice and judgment. I'll always remember something Donald Rumsfield said in response to a critic at a press conference: You began from a flawed premise and proceeded perfectly logically to your conclusion. I think many of us, myself included, don't often see the flaw(s) in our initial premise, and feel justified because most, if not every, step from that point appeared, or was, logical.
Now for the best part, the pasting of the excerpts:
From President Hinckley's Talk
A time back, I clipped a column from the Deseret Morning News, written by Jay Evensen. With his permission, I quote from a part of it. Wrote he:
"How would you feel toward a teenager who decided to toss a 20-pound frozen turkey from a speeding car headlong into the windshield of the car you were driving? How would you feel after enduring six hours of surgery using metal plates and other hardware to piece your face together, and after learning you still face years of therapy before returning to normal—and that you ought to feel lucky you didn't die or suffer permanent brain damage?
"And how would you feel after learning that your assailant and his buddies had the turkey in the first place because they had stolen a credit card and gone on a senseless shopping spree, just for kicks? . . .
"This is the kind of hideous crime that propels politicians to office on promises of getting tough on crime. It's the kind of thing that prompts legislators to climb all over each other in a struggle to be the first to introduce a bill that would add enhanced penalties for the use of frozen fowl in the commission of a crime.
"The New York Times quoted the district attorney as saying this is the sort of crime for which victims feel no punishment is harsh enough. 'Death doesn't even satisfy them,' he said.
"Which is what makes what really happened so unusual. The victim, Victoria Ruvolo, a 44-year-old former manager of a collections agency, was more interested in salvaging the life of her 19-year-old assailant, Ryan Cushing, than in exacting any sort of revenge. She pestered prosecutors for information about him, his life, how he was raised, etc. Then she insisted on offering him a plea deal. Cushing could serve six months in the county jail and be on probation for 5 years if he pleaded guilty to second-degree assault.
"Had he been convicted of first-degree assault—the charge most fitting for the crime—he could have served 25 years in prison, finally thrown back into society as a middle-aged man with no skills or prospects.
"But this is only half the story. The rest of it, what happened the day this all played out in court, is the truly remarkable part.
"According to an account in the New York Post, Cushing carefully and tentatively made his way to where Ruvolo sat in the courtroom and tearfully whispered an apology. 'I'm so sorry for what I did to you.'
"Ruvolo then stood, and the victim and her assailant embraced, weeping. She stroked his head and patted his back as he sobbed, and witnesses, including a Times reporter, heard her say, 'It's OK. I just want you to make your life the best it can be.' According to accounts, hardened prosecutors, and even reporters, were choking back tears" ("Forgiveness Has Power to Change Future," Deseret Morning News, Aug. 21, 2005, p. AA3).
What a great story that is, greater because it actually happened, and that it happened in tough old New York. Who can feel anything but admiration for this woman who forgave the young man who might have taken her life?
I know this is a delicate and sensitive thing of which I am speaking. There are hardened criminals who may have to be locked up. There are unspeakable crimes, such as deliberate murder and rape, that justify harsh penalties. But there are some who could be saved from long, stultifying years in prison because of an unthoughtful, foolish act. Somehow forgiveness, with love and tolerance, accomplishes miracles that can happen in no other way.
From President Faust:
My dear brothers and sisters and friends, I come before you humbly and prayerfully. I wish to speak on the healing power of forgiveness.
In the beautiful hills of Pennsylvania, a devout group of Christian people live a simple life without automobiles, electricity, or modern machinery. They work hard and live quiet, peaceful lives separate from the world. Most of their food comes from their own farms. The women sew and knit and weave their clothing, which is modest and plain. They are known as the Amish people.
A 32-year-old milk truck driver lived with his family in their Nickel Mines community. He was not Amish, but his pickup route took him to many Amish dairy farms, where he became known as the quiet milkman. Last October he suddenly lost all reason and control. In his tormented mind he blamed God for the death of his first child and some unsubstantiated memories. He stormed into the Amish school without any provocation, released the boys and adults, and tied up the 10 girls. He shot the girls, killing five and wounding five. Then he took his own life.
This shocking violence caused great anguish among the Amish but no anger. There was hurt but no hate. Their forgiveness was immediate. Collectively they began to reach out to the milkman's suffering family. As the milkman's family gathered in his home the day after the shootings, an Amish neighbor came over, wrapped his arms around the father of the dead gunman, and said, "We will forgive you."1 Amish leaders visited the milkman's wife and children to extend their sympathy, their forgiveness, their help, and their love. About half of the mourners at the milkman's funeral were Amish. In turn, the Amish invited the milkman's family to attend the funeral services of the girls who had been killed. A remarkable peace settled on the Amish as their faith sustained them during this crisis.
One local resident very eloquently summed up the aftermath of this tragedy when he said, "We were all speaking the same language, and not just English, but a language of caring, a language of community, [and] a language of service. And, yes, a language of forgiveness."2 It was an amazing outpouring of their complete faith in the Lord's teachings in the Sermon on the Mount: "Do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you."3
The family of the milkman who killed the five girls released the following statement to the public:
"To our Amish friends, neighbors, and local community:
"Our family wants each of you to know that we are overwhelmed by the forgiveness, grace, and mercy that you've extended to us. Your love for our family has helped to provide the healing we so desperately need. The prayers, flowers, cards, and gifts you've given have touched our hearts in a way no words can describe. Your compassion has reached beyond our family, beyond our community, and is changing our world, and for this we sincerely thank you.
"Please know that our hearts have been broken by all that has happened. We are filled with sorrow for all of our Amish neighbors whom we have loved and continue to love. We know that there are many hard days ahead for all the families who lost loved ones, and so we will continue to put our hope and trust in the God of all comfort, as we all seek to rebuild our lives."4
How could the whole Amish group manifest such an expression of forgiveness? It was because of their faith in God and trust in His word, which is part of their inner beings. They see themselves as disciples of Christ and want to follow His example.
Hearing of this tragedy, many people sent money to the Amish to pay for the health care of the five surviving girls and for the burial expenses of the five who were killed. As a further demonstration of their discipleship, the Amish decided to share some of the money with the widow of the milkman and her three children because they too were victims of this terrible tragedy.
Forgiveness comes more readily when, like the Amish, we have faith in God and trust in His word. Such faith "enables people to withstand the worst of humanity. It also enables people to look beyond themselves. More importantly, it enables them to forgive."
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
Arms and The Man
Not surprisingly, someone has objected to the non-libertarian stand on the second amendment to which I alluded in the previous post. This is a slightly different subject, so I'm opening a new post.
I'm used to this. As an essentially conversative person living deep in Hunting Country whose opinions on gun control tend to surprise people, I get into this a lot. My position makes perfect sense to me, of course.
Anyway, today's writer correctly observes that the Constitution nowhere "grants Congress the power to forbid me from buying, owning, or using a firearm, a knife, a whip, a rock, or a stick for defense." Of course, the Constitution doesn't do a whole lot of things. It's a very short document. But leaving that aside, this writer is "open to debate about whether automatic rifles and bazookas are too extreme or whether there are some specific individuals that should not be able to bear arms," but wonders if I "think it wise to give government complete and utter control over who can defend themselves and how."
Here's my response:
To get a bit more fundamental, why does "the government" have the "right" to do anything? What is the purpose of government? (A related question: Why would people bring themselves together, organize, and voluntarily submit to the rule of law?) Why should the government have anything at all to do with law enforcement or with the safety and well-being of citizens? Who decides what is "extreme" about possessing any kind of instrument the sole purpose of which is to send a missile of destruction far away from the person holding the instrument? If not government (i.e., the collective will of the people), then who? So much of the law is drawing lines.
The questions form around where we draw the lines, and why. I don't know anyone personally who has ever successfully defended himself or herself with a gun except in time of war or in the line of duty as a police officer. A couple of people very near and dear to me, born and raised in other places, apparently do know such people, and quite naturally they and I are not of accord on second-amendment issues. Basically, they think I'm naive, which I probably am. I do know of children who have been killed by accidental discharge resulting from play with their parents' guns. And of course we all know about the havoc wreaked by crazy children who were able to obtain guns. So is the proper response that teachers should keep guns in their desks, just in case they need to mow somebody down? And then of course I have known quite a few belligerent, gun-totin' folks with quick tempers who tend to a high degree of self-righteous defensiveness. These facts color my opinions.
So .... Even more fundamentally, and this loops us back to our anonymous writer's question and to my previous post, I would pose this question: What should we(who?) defend, and how? But most importantly, why?
By now everyone knows that what concerns me most is the heart, for without pure love in our hearts, in the end, says the Lord, we are "nothing."
In the meantime, we have policy and laws to make or break. How, upon what principles, do we do this?
Admittedly, it's more fun to talk about hoarding Diet Coke.
I'm used to this. As an essentially conversative person living deep in Hunting Country whose opinions on gun control tend to surprise people, I get into this a lot. My position makes perfect sense to me, of course.
Anyway, today's writer correctly observes that the Constitution nowhere "grants Congress the power to forbid me from buying, owning, or using a firearm, a knife, a whip, a rock, or a stick for defense." Of course, the Constitution doesn't do a whole lot of things. It's a very short document. But leaving that aside, this writer is "open to debate about whether automatic rifles and bazookas are too extreme or whether there are some specific individuals that should not be able to bear arms," but wonders if I "think it wise to give government complete and utter control over who can defend themselves and how."
Here's my response:
To get a bit more fundamental, why does "the government" have the "right" to do anything? What is the purpose of government? (A related question: Why would people bring themselves together, organize, and voluntarily submit to the rule of law?) Why should the government have anything at all to do with law enforcement or with the safety and well-being of citizens? Who decides what is "extreme" about possessing any kind of instrument the sole purpose of which is to send a missile of destruction far away from the person holding the instrument? If not government (i.e., the collective will of the people), then who? So much of the law is drawing lines.
The questions form around where we draw the lines, and why. I don't know anyone personally who has ever successfully defended himself or herself with a gun except in time of war or in the line of duty as a police officer. A couple of people very near and dear to me, born and raised in other places, apparently do know such people, and quite naturally they and I are not of accord on second-amendment issues. Basically, they think I'm naive, which I probably am. I do know of children who have been killed by accidental discharge resulting from play with their parents' guns. And of course we all know about the havoc wreaked by crazy children who were able to obtain guns. So is the proper response that teachers should keep guns in their desks, just in case they need to mow somebody down? And then of course I have known quite a few belligerent, gun-totin' folks with quick tempers who tend to a high degree of self-righteous defensiveness. These facts color my opinions.
So .... Even more fundamentally, and this loops us back to our anonymous writer's question and to my previous post, I would pose this question: What should we(who?) defend, and how? But most importantly, why?
By now everyone knows that what concerns me most is the heart, for without pure love in our hearts, in the end, says the Lord, we are "nothing."
In the meantime, we have policy and laws to make or break. How, upon what principles, do we do this?
Admittedly, it's more fun to talk about hoarding Diet Coke.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Provident Living
A few people have noticed the lack of postings here, so I'll try to recitfy that. But first, excuses (which I know you all love).
1. Trying to lose weight. Takes a lot of concentration and uses up all the self-pity and creativity I posssess.
2. Spending time traveling to, preparing for, and visiting with family members from age 80 to newborn. Wonderful, but time- and energy-consuming.
That's it. The house and garden are no excuse.
But here's something I could throw out ... with extreme trepidation. In approaching this please maintain the kind of decorum, courtesy, and gentle good will that has characterized this blog in the past except for certain posts by Christian and Michael. I'd be happy if you wanted to support your assertions with scripture or other potentially de-polarizing sources. In other words, let's try to prove the contraries instead of winning the case.
(Deep breath.)
Scenario: You have followed wise counsel (or your own good sense) and are well-prepared for physical disaster. That is to say that you have a good year's supply of food, water, and basic necessities. Disaster occurs. Others near you are less prepared than you are. Some of them want what you have. What will you do? If you have also exercised what you mistakenly (following a recent opinion by the Supreme Court of the United States) think is your Constitutional Right and have sequestered arms and ammunition along with your other supplies, under what circumstances, if any, would you pull out the gun and shoot someone who wanted your stuff?
Serious questions raised by a friend's recent Relief Society lesson. GO!
P.S. After thinking on this a bit and considering my good friend's useful questions about weapons and the Constitution (see Arms and The Man post, above), I thought I might re-frame this issue a bit. Say that through hard work, provident living, and considerable sacrifice you have put away sufficient food, water, and supplies to preserve your family through hard times. Hard times come. Your bishop asks you to "consecrate" (i.e., turn over to him) all of your hard-earned storage (and receive back from him sufficient for your needs). This is just a thought question. No response necessary.
Of course, Josh's friend's Diet Coke solves that problem. The bishop wouldn't want it.
P.P.S.S. Christian and Michael, I love you! (Neither of these gentlemen, by the way, was the anonymous contributor who elicited Arms and The Man.)
1. Trying to lose weight. Takes a lot of concentration and uses up all the self-pity and creativity I posssess.
2. Spending time traveling to, preparing for, and visiting with family members from age 80 to newborn. Wonderful, but time- and energy-consuming.
That's it. The house and garden are no excuse.
But here's something I could throw out ... with extreme trepidation. In approaching this please maintain the kind of decorum, courtesy, and gentle good will that has characterized this blog in the past except for certain posts by Christian and Michael. I'd be happy if you wanted to support your assertions with scripture or other potentially de-polarizing sources. In other words, let's try to prove the contraries instead of winning the case.
(Deep breath.)
Scenario: You have followed wise counsel (or your own good sense) and are well-prepared for physical disaster. That is to say that you have a good year's supply of food, water, and basic necessities. Disaster occurs. Others near you are less prepared than you are. Some of them want what you have. What will you do? If you have also exercised what you mistakenly (following a recent opinion by the Supreme Court of the United States) think is your Constitutional Right and have sequestered arms and ammunition along with your other supplies, under what circumstances, if any, would you pull out the gun and shoot someone who wanted your stuff?
Serious questions raised by a friend's recent Relief Society lesson. GO!
P.S. After thinking on this a bit and considering my good friend's useful questions about weapons and the Constitution (see Arms and The Man post, above), I thought I might re-frame this issue a bit. Say that through hard work, provident living, and considerable sacrifice you have put away sufficient food, water, and supplies to preserve your family through hard times. Hard times come. Your bishop asks you to "consecrate" (i.e., turn over to him) all of your hard-earned storage (and receive back from him sufficient for your needs). This is just a thought question. No response necessary.
Of course, Josh's friend's Diet Coke solves that problem. The bishop wouldn't want it.
P.P.S.S. Christian and Michael, I love you! (Neither of these gentlemen, by the way, was the anonymous contributor who elicited Arms and The Man.)
Monday, May 4, 2009
Skill
Once again I bring the comments out onto a blog. You won't understand this one unless you start with a couple posts back ("Greetings!") and follow the conversation I'm having with my excellent friend, Graham. Who, by the way, is headed for BYU Law in the fall (congratulations, Graham), and as you can tell will do very well.
I wanted to clarify something I said earlier, so as not to leave the suggestion that I want in any way to denigrate the acquisition of skills, particularly in parenting or in any other interpersonal dimension. I have spent some time discovering, learning, and ... okay, I'll say "perfecting" ... skills that help me be a better parent. And during my brief career as a mediator and teacher of mediation techniques, I often heard people say that what they learned in mediation training had beneficial effects in their "daily life," especially in family relationships. The thing is, skills are morally neutral, which is why I suggested to Graham that we should try to discover why we are yelling at the kids. Am I a "naturally" irritable person with poor impulse control? Am I emotionally damaged from a lack of nurturing in my own childhood? Do I come from a culture where yelling is the norm in family life? And what do I think about this? Do I think yelling is a character flaw? Do I fail to see that I'm am "taking it out on the family" when something else is really the source of my anger? Are my children particularly annoying? Do I have more of them than a human being can possibly deal with?
I have known emotionally cold people who never yell at the their children but damage them nevertheless. I have known emotionally volatile people who yell all the time, and nobody seems the worse for wear. However, has anybody (maybe you, Mike, as I recall?) had an experience where a Church leader said something about certain tendencies or inculturated habits (such as emotional volatility or attitudes men might have towards women and children) being nevertheless inexcusable? Anyway, skills are skills and can be used for good or ill.
Say I develop awareness, learn all sorts of skills and techniques, practice impulse control. Learn to be kind, all that. That's good. Beneficial for me and my family. But such skills are also learned for unholy purposes. To advance oneself socially or politically. To build a strong downline (get gain). I know people who unabashedly teach that you should love your employees in order to increase productivity. We're not going to argue the result. But the motives seem to me cynical, manipulative, and therefore unholy. Even in the presence of a "good" result. An elementary school principal patiently explained to me when I complained that a tight system of rewards and punishments was depriving the children of the opportunity to understand and develop healthy internal motivations: "Well, Mrs. Thayer. Most of our patrons appreciate the improvement in behavior that our program has brought about." Yeah, well. I saw a goodly number of those kids after hours.
I Corinthians 13 doesn't say that almsgiving and prophesying don't have good results if the motives are improper. It just says that as far as the actor goes, there is no eternal benefit.
Anyway, these issues deserve attention, because they have to do with nothing less than this: Who is God? And how do we become as God is? Here's what I couldn't get quite right in all the years of my youthful striving: Be still, and know.
What do you DO, though, when you lift your head? You do as the Spirit directs. But you're not a robot, so being prepared, knowledgeable, skillful is good. Give the Spirit something to work with.
Are we getting closer, Graham?
I wanted to clarify something I said earlier, so as not to leave the suggestion that I want in any way to denigrate the acquisition of skills, particularly in parenting or in any other interpersonal dimension. I have spent some time discovering, learning, and ... okay, I'll say "perfecting" ... skills that help me be a better parent. And during my brief career as a mediator and teacher of mediation techniques, I often heard people say that what they learned in mediation training had beneficial effects in their "daily life," especially in family relationships. The thing is, skills are morally neutral, which is why I suggested to Graham that we should try to discover why we are yelling at the kids. Am I a "naturally" irritable person with poor impulse control? Am I emotionally damaged from a lack of nurturing in my own childhood? Do I come from a culture where yelling is the norm in family life? And what do I think about this? Do I think yelling is a character flaw? Do I fail to see that I'm am "taking it out on the family" when something else is really the source of my anger? Are my children particularly annoying? Do I have more of them than a human being can possibly deal with?
I have known emotionally cold people who never yell at the their children but damage them nevertheless. I have known emotionally volatile people who yell all the time, and nobody seems the worse for wear. However, has anybody (maybe you, Mike, as I recall?) had an experience where a Church leader said something about certain tendencies or inculturated habits (such as emotional volatility or attitudes men might have towards women and children) being nevertheless inexcusable? Anyway, skills are skills and can be used for good or ill.
Say I develop awareness, learn all sorts of skills and techniques, practice impulse control. Learn to be kind, all that. That's good. Beneficial for me and my family. But such skills are also learned for unholy purposes. To advance oneself socially or politically. To build a strong downline (get gain). I know people who unabashedly teach that you should love your employees in order to increase productivity. We're not going to argue the result. But the motives seem to me cynical, manipulative, and therefore unholy. Even in the presence of a "good" result. An elementary school principal patiently explained to me when I complained that a tight system of rewards and punishments was depriving the children of the opportunity to understand and develop healthy internal motivations: "Well, Mrs. Thayer. Most of our patrons appreciate the improvement in behavior that our program has brought about." Yeah, well. I saw a goodly number of those kids after hours.
I Corinthians 13 doesn't say that almsgiving and prophesying don't have good results if the motives are improper. It just says that as far as the actor goes, there is no eternal benefit.
Anyway, these issues deserve attention, because they have to do with nothing less than this: Who is God? And how do we become as God is? Here's what I couldn't get quite right in all the years of my youthful striving: Be still, and know.
What do you DO, though, when you lift your head? You do as the Spirit directs. But you're not a robot, so being prepared, knowledgeable, skillful is good. Give the Spirit something to work with.
Are we getting closer, Graham?
Perfection
Graham and I are having a conversation under the "Greetings" blog that I'd like to bring into focus, because it's a topic that has for a long time been very important to me. Check Graham's last post about training. Here is my response:
Logically speaking (and in reality, I think), a product (training) orientation can never lead to wholeness, which is what "perfection" is. I'm happy that the "new" annotated LDS scriptures (the ones you all grew up with) contain in the footnote to Matthew 5:48 an explanation of "perfect" as it would have been understood in a 1611 translation of teleios into English: "complete, finished, fully developed." (Think teleology, that which something is fundamentally, in and of itself. Think whole number; the Latin equivalent is integer; think integrity.) And think about this in the context of D&C 67:13: "Ye are not able to abide the presence of God now, neither the ministering of angels; wherefore, continue in patience until ye are perfected." Made whole, made what you fundamentally are, without that which holds you from perfection, constrains, tempts, pollutes you, holds you back, draws you away. Made complete, increased in capacity and then filled with the knowledge, power, and will to goodness that makes you (like) God.
The problem with a checklist/training/product orientation is that you CANNOT be perfected (made whole) that way. It's an impatient, self-directed, finite, never-ending process looking outside itself, toward an end, a goal, a product. If you proceed in increments (think Zeno's arrow), there will always be another increment. Perfection can't be linear. Infinity isn't linear. That's Greek thinking, with the head. The Hebrew thinking, with the heart, is circular. All truth is circumscribed into one great whole. As a man thinketh in his heart, so IS he. It can happen in a moment for the person prepared, as that person completely submits to the will of God and becomes a new creature in Christ, whole. And it can be lost in an instant, as we turn from the center (Christ) and veer off on a tangent. This is a process, to be sure, but involving yielding not striving, one with which we must have patience, working out our salvation with fear (awe) and trembling, before the Lord. While we are in mortality, we'll never finish, it will never "hold" (unless we have our callings and elections "made sure" by the presence of the Lord Himself). But if we are experienced in the process, we are ready at the end of mortality to enter into the Rest of the Lord, to come into His presence and know His Glory.
This is why charity (love, an emotion/will/capacity, not a series of actions) is the greatest of all the spiritual gifts, and the one without which, in the end, we are "nothing," all our actions being (in) vain. Wholeness implies a condition/state of being. God is (has become) LOVE. He is no-thing other. He acts only out of wholeness, and having no disposition to do evil, he can only do good. That is perfection.
Here's something: We don't learn "things" in the temple. We learn a way of being. Think of how your (one's, my) problem with your temper utterly vanishes in certain contexts. Instantly. God doesn't get up in the morning and say, Wow, Lucifer really makes me angry, so I'd better get that under better control. God is what he does. (Does what he is.) Because he is love. I don't think this is like hitting the perfect tennis ball without thought because I have trained myself over and over again to do it. It's that my whole body is filled with light, and there is no darkness in me. Missing the ball is not an option. Nor is missing anything else, regardless of whether I have ever tried it before.
I can't stress enough how important this is. Is has taken me most of my adult life to shake off the shackles of accomplishment, striving, the training/product mentality that got me where I am today (and I'm glad of it) and in the meantime plunged me into a depression I couldn't pray myself out of. When there was no one else to measure myself against, I would measure myself against myself. It was never enough. A house divided against itself cannot stand. I didn't.
I have been studying this matter since I was a 19-year-old freshman. That's more than 40 years now. When my big crash came (just under 25 years ago, just after my adorable Mikey was born), I had already been pondering love and accomplishment for many years. In the old days before these new editions of scriptures were produced, without a reliable concordance, I had to go through the Standard Works line-by-line to find all the references to love. So I understood the thing intellectually pretty well before the stresses of striving for perfection (6 kids in 9 years and no report card to tell me how I was doing) got me. I pondered taking drugs for the depression, as the doctor ordered. But instead, through a combination of hard work that I called "scrupulous mental hygiene" and a re-ordering of my understanding of God, I came out of it. After about 15 years.
Sounds like training, doesn't it? I re-trained my brain. So this is the sense in which you are surely right, Graham. I have treated this issue at some length elsewhere, as some of you already know. In a nutshell, it's a mortal paradox. We live in a time-bound sphere in which scarcity makes competition necessary. And we are aiming for eternity, where abundance makes competition pure evil.
I'll leave you with that for now. I have to go mow the back lawn before it rains. AGAIN!
Love to all on a Monday morning!
P.S. Could it be that Graham and I are merely exhibiting the typical masculine/feminine, Greek/Hebraic, spear/vessel, linear/circular, mechanical/organic polar modes of thinking about the same thing, both of which modes are necessary to the comprehending of Reality? (The kind of "opposition" in all things ... note not rival but necessary ... that "must needs be"?) The "proving" of which contraries will yield ... eventually, finally ... Truth? (Which is ultimately experiential, contextual, not factual?) Hey, hey!
It's all in the process. The means doesn't justify the end, it IS the end! Or is this just another example of my mode at work? Can I no longer even think outside of it? Wait, but I AM thinking, and striving. Hm.
The problem is that I'm back inside blogging because I couldn't get the lawn mower started, so I have to wait until my husband comes home and figures it out. I lack both experience with and information about this mower. It's not that I'm a girl; it's that I'm lawn-mower challenged. Actually, it IS that I'm a girl and am mowing the lawn only for exercise. I certainly did mow as many lawns in my youth as my brother did, but since I've had husband and sons ....
Never mind.
Logically speaking (and in reality, I think), a product (training) orientation can never lead to wholeness, which is what "perfection" is. I'm happy that the "new" annotated LDS scriptures (the ones you all grew up with) contain in the footnote to Matthew 5:48 an explanation of "perfect" as it would have been understood in a 1611 translation of teleios into English: "complete, finished, fully developed." (Think teleology, that which something is fundamentally, in and of itself. Think whole number; the Latin equivalent is integer; think integrity.) And think about this in the context of D&C 67:13: "Ye are not able to abide the presence of God now, neither the ministering of angels; wherefore, continue in patience until ye are perfected." Made whole, made what you fundamentally are, without that which holds you from perfection, constrains, tempts, pollutes you, holds you back, draws you away. Made complete, increased in capacity and then filled with the knowledge, power, and will to goodness that makes you (like) God.
The problem with a checklist/training/product orientation is that you CANNOT be perfected (made whole) that way. It's an impatient, self-directed, finite, never-ending process looking outside itself, toward an end, a goal, a product. If you proceed in increments (think Zeno's arrow), there will always be another increment. Perfection can't be linear. Infinity isn't linear. That's Greek thinking, with the head. The Hebrew thinking, with the heart, is circular. All truth is circumscribed into one great whole. As a man thinketh in his heart, so IS he. It can happen in a moment for the person prepared, as that person completely submits to the will of God and becomes a new creature in Christ, whole. And it can be lost in an instant, as we turn from the center (Christ) and veer off on a tangent. This is a process, to be sure, but involving yielding not striving, one with which we must have patience, working out our salvation with fear (awe) and trembling, before the Lord. While we are in mortality, we'll never finish, it will never "hold" (unless we have our callings and elections "made sure" by the presence of the Lord Himself). But if we are experienced in the process, we are ready at the end of mortality to enter into the Rest of the Lord, to come into His presence and know His Glory.
This is why charity (love, an emotion/will/capacity, not a series of actions) is the greatest of all the spiritual gifts, and the one without which, in the end, we are "nothing," all our actions being (in) vain. Wholeness implies a condition/state of being. God is (has become) LOVE. He is no-thing other. He acts only out of wholeness, and having no disposition to do evil, he can only do good. That is perfection.
Here's something: We don't learn "things" in the temple. We learn a way of being. Think of how your (one's, my) problem with your temper utterly vanishes in certain contexts. Instantly. God doesn't get up in the morning and say, Wow, Lucifer really makes me angry, so I'd better get that under better control. God is what he does. (Does what he is.) Because he is love. I don't think this is like hitting the perfect tennis ball without thought because I have trained myself over and over again to do it. It's that my whole body is filled with light, and there is no darkness in me. Missing the ball is not an option. Nor is missing anything else, regardless of whether I have ever tried it before.
I can't stress enough how important this is. Is has taken me most of my adult life to shake off the shackles of accomplishment, striving, the training/product mentality that got me where I am today (and I'm glad of it) and in the meantime plunged me into a depression I couldn't pray myself out of. When there was no one else to measure myself against, I would measure myself against myself. It was never enough. A house divided against itself cannot stand. I didn't.
I have been studying this matter since I was a 19-year-old freshman. That's more than 40 years now. When my big crash came (just under 25 years ago, just after my adorable Mikey was born), I had already been pondering love and accomplishment for many years. In the old days before these new editions of scriptures were produced, without a reliable concordance, I had to go through the Standard Works line-by-line to find all the references to love. So I understood the thing intellectually pretty well before the stresses of striving for perfection (6 kids in 9 years and no report card to tell me how I was doing) got me. I pondered taking drugs for the depression, as the doctor ordered. But instead, through a combination of hard work that I called "scrupulous mental hygiene" and a re-ordering of my understanding of God, I came out of it. After about 15 years.
Sounds like training, doesn't it? I re-trained my brain. So this is the sense in which you are surely right, Graham. I have treated this issue at some length elsewhere, as some of you already know. In a nutshell, it's a mortal paradox. We live in a time-bound sphere in which scarcity makes competition necessary. And we are aiming for eternity, where abundance makes competition pure evil.
I'll leave you with that for now. I have to go mow the back lawn before it rains. AGAIN!
Love to all on a Monday morning!
P.S. Could it be that Graham and I are merely exhibiting the typical masculine/feminine, Greek/Hebraic, spear/vessel, linear/circular, mechanical/organic polar modes of thinking about the same thing, both of which modes are necessary to the comprehending of Reality? (The kind of "opposition" in all things ... note not rival but necessary ... that "must needs be"?) The "proving" of which contraries will yield ... eventually, finally ... Truth? (Which is ultimately experiential, contextual, not factual?) Hey, hey!
It's all in the process. The means doesn't justify the end, it IS the end! Or is this just another example of my mode at work? Can I no longer even think outside of it? Wait, but I AM thinking, and striving. Hm.
The problem is that I'm back inside blogging because I couldn't get the lawn mower started, so I have to wait until my husband comes home and figures it out. I lack both experience with and information about this mower. It's not that I'm a girl; it's that I'm lawn-mower challenged. Actually, it IS that I'm a girl and am mowing the lawn only for exercise. I certainly did mow as many lawns in my youth as my brother did, but since I've had husband and sons ....
Never mind.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Greetings!
Welcome to a couple of new followers since I last checked! And greetings to you all. Just wanted to report that I'm still alive and invested in the blog. But ....
It was Doug's 80th birthday on the 19th, and we've had family reunion going on here at home and in cyberspace for a couple of weeks. (Congratulations by the way to Michael the Contentious and his beautiful, charming, calm, supportive wife, Jill, who welcomed Owen Michael on the 18th and celebrated Abigail Jane's second birthday on the 20th in a city far away.)
I wanted to take a minute to suggest something to you while I'm occupied with playing with grandchildren: The Complete Christian by Robert S. Wood. (I once bought up all copies available through Amazon.com, but try again if you're interested.) Those of you who were in class with me Fall '08 know about Brother/Elder Wood, member of the Second Quorum of the Seventy and former dean of the Center for Naval Warfare Studies and the U.S. Naval War College. Has degrees from Stanford (BA) and Harvard (MA, PhD). If you haven't done it already, you might want to Google him.
Elder Wood brings together a number of useful sources—from Moses to Kurt Cobain—as he works his way through his own ideas. Early in the book he quotes something from Brigham Young that I find worth pondering in light of some questions we've raised here:
Except I am one with my good brethren, do not say that I am a Latter-day Saint. We must be one. Our faith must be concentrated in one great work—the building up of the Kingdom of God on the earth, and our works must aim at the accomplishment of that great purpose.
We have got to be united in our efforts. We should go to work with a united faith like the heart of one man; and whatever we do should be performed in the name of the Lord, and we will then be blessed and prospered in all we do. We have a work on hand whose magnitude can hardly be told.
It is also our duty to love the Gospel and the spirit of the Gospel, so that we can become one in the Lord, not out of Him, that our faith, our affections for truth, the kingdom of heaven, our acts, all our labor will be concentrated in the salvation of the children of men and the establishment of the Kingdom of God on the earth. This is cooperation on a very large scale. This is the work of redemption that is entered into by the Latter-day Saints. Unitedly we perform these duties, we stand, we endure, we increase and multiply, we strengthen and spread abroad, and shall continue so to do until the kingdoms of this world are the kingdoms of our God and His Christ. (Discourses of Brigham Young, sel. John A. Widtsoe, Deseret Book, 1956, p. 284.)
It was Doug's 80th birthday on the 19th, and we've had family reunion going on here at home and in cyberspace for a couple of weeks. (Congratulations by the way to Michael the Contentious and his beautiful, charming, calm, supportive wife, Jill, who welcomed Owen Michael on the 18th and celebrated Abigail Jane's second birthday on the 20th in a city far away.)
I wanted to take a minute to suggest something to you while I'm occupied with playing with grandchildren: The Complete Christian by Robert S. Wood. (I once bought up all copies available through Amazon.com, but try again if you're interested.) Those of you who were in class with me Fall '08 know about Brother/Elder Wood, member of the Second Quorum of the Seventy and former dean of the Center for Naval Warfare Studies and the U.S. Naval War College. Has degrees from Stanford (BA) and Harvard (MA, PhD). If you haven't done it already, you might want to Google him.
Elder Wood brings together a number of useful sources—from Moses to Kurt Cobain—as he works his way through his own ideas. Early in the book he quotes something from Brigham Young that I find worth pondering in light of some questions we've raised here:
Except I am one with my good brethren, do not say that I am a Latter-day Saint. We must be one. Our faith must be concentrated in one great work—the building up of the Kingdom of God on the earth, and our works must aim at the accomplishment of that great purpose.
We have got to be united in our efforts. We should go to work with a united faith like the heart of one man; and whatever we do should be performed in the name of the Lord, and we will then be blessed and prospered in all we do. We have a work on hand whose magnitude can hardly be told.
It is also our duty to love the Gospel and the spirit of the Gospel, so that we can become one in the Lord, not out of Him, that our faith, our affections for truth, the kingdom of heaven, our acts, all our labor will be concentrated in the salvation of the children of men and the establishment of the Kingdom of God on the earth. This is cooperation on a very large scale. This is the work of redemption that is entered into by the Latter-day Saints. Unitedly we perform these duties, we stand, we endure, we increase and multiply, we strengthen and spread abroad, and shall continue so to do until the kingdoms of this world are the kingdoms of our God and His Christ. (Discourses of Brigham Young, sel. John A. Widtsoe, Deseret Book, 1956, p. 284.)
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Oneness, a Thought Experiment
I have been receiving e-mail messages from people who are following the blog on the sly, and this morning someone mentioned that he would like to hear my response to the question I asked a bit ago, What does it mean to be one?
Of course you all know that I am a bit more interested in that than I am in discovering the Ultimate Truth about Climate Change and What We Should(n't) Do About It, the answer to which is very important but seems to me is going to depend as much as anything else on your politics. As much as I care about ideas, I care more about people and relationship. (Is this a "feminine" thing?)
So here are some questions that have come to my mind as we took off into the climate thing:
1. How do we find truth (even veracity) in this Age of Information?
2. How do we trust, when Self-Interest replaces God as the ultimate guide to human behavior?
3. How are we godly together ("one") when our opinions put us at odds with one another, perhaps even passionately at odds?
To explore these questions, I propose that instead of thinking about how, oh, Christian and Mike might try to speak nicely to one another, we could imagine instead, say, that Glenn Beck and Harry Reid were to end up in the same high priests quorum.
Brother Harry and Brother Glenn would probably get along fine at a cannery assignment or during a disaster clean-up. (Neither would be very good with a chain saw, though.) But let's say they were sitting together in a priesthood lesson about Our Divinely Inspired Constitution. Or let's say the Becks and the Reids ended up in the same temple session one day and at a certain moment needed to decide whether they felt good about being there together.
As you might know, both Harry Reid and Glenn Beck are converts to the Church, each having found something profoundly helpful in the gospel and in the LDS community. I have heard each of them bear testimony to this fact. They weren't born into the Church: they CHOSE it, and they find peace and strength in their choice. (I also know that both of them meet a great deal of criticism from members of the Church, so I can only hope they can continue to find peace and strength in the community.)
I think I'll leave you for the moment with this thought experiment. If you don't know who Glenn Beck is, just think of the most vocal and uninhibited gun-totin' extreme anti-Obama Libertarian person you know. If you don't know who Harry Reid is, shame on you. I know you're busy, but you shouldn't be THAT busy.
Okay. Get back to me.
P.S. I know that some of you have begun to address this issue in your comments to previous posts. Andrea, Calvin, Graham, for example. And there are some pretty basic answers we all know. I just know that this is a day-to-day problem for me, so in my view, we can't think of it too often. I hear from many of you that you're reading the Book of Mormon with particular vigor at the moment. Some are relishing the New Testament, and we're all studying D&C this year. Anybody reading the OLD Testament? Feel free to send along favorite scriptures that address these issues.
Bottom line: What do you do with your emotions when you feel very strongly that someone else is WRONG and that someone is a brother or sister in the gospel? How do you love a nearby "enemy"? What will the Kingdom of God (say, in the millennium, on earth I mean) look like? Will we all agree on everything???? Are our disagreements merely a matter of perspective? Are they just "points of view"? Just toss these things around in your mind a bit?
Of course you all know that I am a bit more interested in that than I am in discovering the Ultimate Truth about Climate Change and What We Should(n't) Do About It, the answer to which is very important but seems to me is going to depend as much as anything else on your politics. As much as I care about ideas, I care more about people and relationship. (Is this a "feminine" thing?)
So here are some questions that have come to my mind as we took off into the climate thing:
1. How do we find truth (even veracity) in this Age of Information?
2. How do we trust, when Self-Interest replaces God as the ultimate guide to human behavior?
3. How are we godly together ("one") when our opinions put us at odds with one another, perhaps even passionately at odds?
To explore these questions, I propose that instead of thinking about how, oh, Christian and Mike might try to speak nicely to one another, we could imagine instead, say, that Glenn Beck and Harry Reid were to end up in the same high priests quorum.
Brother Harry and Brother Glenn would probably get along fine at a cannery assignment or during a disaster clean-up. (Neither would be very good with a chain saw, though.) But let's say they were sitting together in a priesthood lesson about Our Divinely Inspired Constitution. Or let's say the Becks and the Reids ended up in the same temple session one day and at a certain moment needed to decide whether they felt good about being there together.
As you might know, both Harry Reid and Glenn Beck are converts to the Church, each having found something profoundly helpful in the gospel and in the LDS community. I have heard each of them bear testimony to this fact. They weren't born into the Church: they CHOSE it, and they find peace and strength in their choice. (I also know that both of them meet a great deal of criticism from members of the Church, so I can only hope they can continue to find peace and strength in the community.)
I think I'll leave you for the moment with this thought experiment. If you don't know who Glenn Beck is, just think of the most vocal and uninhibited gun-totin' extreme anti-Obama Libertarian person you know. If you don't know who Harry Reid is, shame on you. I know you're busy, but you shouldn't be THAT busy.
Okay. Get back to me.
P.S. I know that some of you have begun to address this issue in your comments to previous posts. Andrea, Calvin, Graham, for example. And there are some pretty basic answers we all know. I just know that this is a day-to-day problem for me, so in my view, we can't think of it too often. I hear from many of you that you're reading the Book of Mormon with particular vigor at the moment. Some are relishing the New Testament, and we're all studying D&C this year. Anybody reading the OLD Testament? Feel free to send along favorite scriptures that address these issues.
Bottom line: What do you do with your emotions when you feel very strongly that someone else is WRONG and that someone is a brother or sister in the gospel? How do you love a nearby "enemy"? What will the Kingdom of God (say, in the millennium, on earth I mean) look like? Will we all agree on everything???? Are our disagreements merely a matter of perspective? Are they just "points of view"? Just toss these things around in your mind a bit?
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