It's a disappointingly popular pastime among a subset of Christianity to take an actively accusatory stance toward the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. So many times I have heard, "Mormons aren't Christian." They essentially always neglect to use the correct name of the Church, because it starts to sound absurd to say that members of the Church of Jesus Christ aren't Christian. While it's possibly useful to go point by point and provide explanations to potentially alleviate people's concerns (e.g., reliance exclusively on the Bible can't be a defining aspect of Christianity because the followers of Christ in His time were definitely Christian but the New Testament hadn't even been written yet and the Bible wouldn't exist as a collected volume until several hundred years later), it's also unlikely to be effective because people are already taking a stance of opposing the Church; even the most basic truths are not convincing to someone who doesn't want to hear them.
When I converse with people who are confrontational or antagonistic, I try to change the tone of the conversation. I try to ask about their beliefs--independent of mine or of the teachings of the Church they have objected to--so that they can start participating in mutual understanding. I try to have hope of establishing a conversation free from contention. It still always depends on the other person, too, but sometimes the tone does improve and very good things come of it.
Recently, another thought occurred to me. Antagonists often cite Christianity while condemning us in a very un-Christian sort of way. Here's what I expressed to one such person:
"As to whether or not we should judge others, I think there will be a lot of surprise and embarrassment when, standing before Jesus Christ at the day of judgment, some people will hear Him say, 'You treated some of my disciples very poorly. You tried to deny my name to them.' Perhaps they might sheepishly respond, 'Well, we thought they weren't good enough.' He might, in turn, say, 'I was pretty clear that you weren't supposed to judge others.' Christ's own words ought to give some people great pause. Yes, as we read in Matthew 7:21-23, there will be those who thought they had done great things in His name only to find out later that He tells them He doesn't know them, and that they must 'depart' from Him. But consider this: how horrible will it be for those who have judged others to be unworthy of Christ's name, given His words just earlier in that same chapter? 'Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again.' How horrible it would be for our Redeemer to say to a person, 'You would have denied my name to others, and now I must deny it to you.' How horrible it will be when He does have to tell people who professed His name to depart. I really feel like that's something that should make people reconsider their words about other people's beliefs.
Last thoughts for now:
My faith and my knowledge of God aren't deterred or undone by any critical words from others, but I hope that they're always grounded in Christlike love so that I might be able to serve people who would otherwise call themselves my enemies. Perhaps I will be able to express my concern about the fate of those who judge in a loving way to those who are being overtly judgmental. Perhaps it will help.
Showing posts with label judgment. Show all posts
Showing posts with label judgment. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 8, 2022
The Mistake of Denying Others the Name of Christ
Tuesday, January 11, 2022
Why Jesus Christ is Important to Me
Why is Jesus Christ important to me? A lot of that is stated in the scriptures I quoted, but I'll do more to phrase it in my own words:
Jesus Christ is my Savior. I am His disciple through covenant. I have sinned (like everyone) and of myself I am not worthy to return to my Father in Heaven, but through the power and grace of Jesus Christ I can be perfected in Him and receive all of the blessings that God the Father desires to give His children. I owe Him everything. He knows and loves me. He loves me enough that He suffered for my sins and even died for me. But He also lived for me and showed the way that I should live, not only to have peace in this life but also afterward, throughout eternity. Of course I am not the only one He loves; He loves everyone I know and everyone I don't. He has commanded me to love everyone, after loving God, and I take that commandment very seriously. I'm grateful that my "loved ones" among my family and friends have salvation available to them also, and that the mercy of Christ is available to the entire world whom I am commanded to love. Jesus Christ understands my pain in life. I really don't expect many people on this Earth to have great understanding of the trials I've known, and I don't expect any mortal person to fully understand, but He does. He knows the depth of my suffering, even when it has been foolishly self-inflicted, and He indeed knows much more suffering than I've ever known. But He has lived through the lowest of the lows and in His greatest difficulties He still gave His will to the Father. That is an example of no small importance to me. In any moment of weakness or trial, I always know that I can submit to my Father's will as He did, and I know that They both want me to do so in order that I might be one with them and know their joy. I don't expect to achieve that unity during my mortal life; I expect that full obedience to Christ's commandment to "be perfect" is only possible through Him and won't happen while I'm still subject to mortal weakness. But I still strive to be like Him. I invoke His name daily in prayer to my Heavenly Father, both individually and with my family. I teach my family about Him. While there are many ephemeral things in the world that I enjoy, I continually keep God's eternal Plan of Happiness in my mind, knowing that Jesus Christ is central to every part of that Plan, and no mortal pleasure could ever compare to what He provides me. I know that at the day of my final judgment I will stand before Him and the Father, and that in His majesty I will have nothing to offer Him, and I will know my own unworthiness keenly, but I have faith that His Atonement not only gives me strength now but will be sufficient for me at that time.
Last thoughts for now:
I should add that I see the marvelous work of God being carried out in the modern Church of Jesus Christ. It is an immense blessing to have this Church that exists to bring people closer to Him.
Friday, September 28, 2018
Repenting Early Instead of Regretting Later
A poignant line from John Greenleaf Whittier's poem "Maud Muller" reads: "Of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these, 'It might have been.'" What Whittier describes is a fictional account of a judge who loses a potential love for a young woman, because she is of low social status, and both he and the woman throughout their lives remember the other and regret "what might have been". While the account is fictional, the fact is that we all have only one life to live and as time passes we may well wish that we had made choices differently.
Yesterday, I saw a bit of TV footage of a former celebrity being taken in handcuffs by police officers after receiving a prison sentence for crimes he committed many, many years ago. The man had been well-known and well-loved almost universally by society for many years, but now he has lost most people's love and respect. Granted, my basic assumption is that the justice system worked properly and he’s getting a legal punishment that is deserved--I don't doubt that--but it still strikes me as tragic. Fame and the loss of it is of minor consequence, but what is happening to him personally is something else. I couldn’t see his face all that well, but he didn’t seem happy or strong. The man is old, and if anything, the feeling that seemed apparent in his face and his movement was only a recognition of something horrible and an inability to do anything about it.
I imagine that at some point in the past he probably felt guilty about what he’d done, and I think everyone that does wrong either fully repents or finds a way to keep living despite being guilty, whether they feel guilty or not. That second possibility can be a very bad thing, in that if people find a way to move on without setting things right (as much as is possible), that in itself can prevent them from ever setting things right and restoring the parts of their soul that are damaged. I can’t help but think that this old man has a very different outlook on life and his own actions, compared to the way he did decades ago, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he felt like it would have been much better to have had this justice attended to much earlier in his life. I imagine that he has no desire to hurt anyone now, but regardless, he has to deal with the consequences of his actions and I’m sure he regrets all of this happening at this point in his life (for one reason or another).
I could be wrong about his thoughts; whether or not he really feels any of that, I can’t be sure. But, I am sure that everyone who doesn’t repent will feel that same kind of regret, though when applied to an eternal judgment I think that feeling will be deeper. At the same time, I think it will be balanced by a sense of God’s perfect justice. I imagine that understanding God’s justice cannot be a complete comfort to people, but I think it will in some way balance the regret (the foundations of which will be immutable). That balance isn't something to hope for, though; I would hope that we would be able to approach our final judgment in a different way, because of how we act following our own wrongdoing. All of the guilt and regret that we feel early in life will be valuable if it leads us to correct our wrongs.
Last thoughts for now:
What might yet be is that we might be able to gain all that our Heavenly Father has, including the greatest joy possible. We all will commit sin, but we all have an opportunity to right our wrongs. Thankfully, during this mortal life it's never too late, but with every day that we let slip by without repenting, we are less likely to choose repentance. May we all show gratitude for Christ's Atonement by examining our lives and determining to set right those things that we have done wrong, and may we find joy and peace in doing so.
Yesterday, I saw a bit of TV footage of a former celebrity being taken in handcuffs by police officers after receiving a prison sentence for crimes he committed many, many years ago. The man had been well-known and well-loved almost universally by society for many years, but now he has lost most people's love and respect. Granted, my basic assumption is that the justice system worked properly and he’s getting a legal punishment that is deserved--I don't doubt that--but it still strikes me as tragic. Fame and the loss of it is of minor consequence, but what is happening to him personally is something else. I couldn’t see his face all that well, but he didn’t seem happy or strong. The man is old, and if anything, the feeling that seemed apparent in his face and his movement was only a recognition of something horrible and an inability to do anything about it.
I imagine that at some point in the past he probably felt guilty about what he’d done, and I think everyone that does wrong either fully repents or finds a way to keep living despite being guilty, whether they feel guilty or not. That second possibility can be a very bad thing, in that if people find a way to move on without setting things right (as much as is possible), that in itself can prevent them from ever setting things right and restoring the parts of their soul that are damaged. I can’t help but think that this old man has a very different outlook on life and his own actions, compared to the way he did decades ago, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he felt like it would have been much better to have had this justice attended to much earlier in his life. I imagine that he has no desire to hurt anyone now, but regardless, he has to deal with the consequences of his actions and I’m sure he regrets all of this happening at this point in his life (for one reason or another).
I could be wrong about his thoughts; whether or not he really feels any of that, I can’t be sure. But, I am sure that everyone who doesn’t repent will feel that same kind of regret, though when applied to an eternal judgment I think that feeling will be deeper. At the same time, I think it will be balanced by a sense of God’s perfect justice. I imagine that understanding God’s justice cannot be a complete comfort to people, but I think it will in some way balance the regret (the foundations of which will be immutable). That balance isn't something to hope for, though; I would hope that we would be able to approach our final judgment in a different way, because of how we act following our own wrongdoing. All of the guilt and regret that we feel early in life will be valuable if it leads us to correct our wrongs.
Last thoughts for now:
What might yet be is that we might be able to gain all that our Heavenly Father has, including the greatest joy possible. We all will commit sin, but we all have an opportunity to right our wrongs. Thankfully, during this mortal life it's never too late, but with every day that we let slip by without repenting, we are less likely to choose repentance. May we all show gratitude for Christ's Atonement by examining our lives and determining to set right those things that we have done wrong, and may we find joy and peace in doing so.
Friday, February 2, 2018
A Day When All Wounds Will Heal
We are all wounded in life. Many times. Some of these wounds linger with us, and never really heal. I move on with life despite my unhealed wounds. Sometimes they do heal, and they're supposed to. Jesus Christ, "the Son of Righteousness [shall] arise with healing in his wings" to those who "fear [the Lord's] name". (Malachi 4:2 and 3 Nephi 25:2; also 2 Nephi 25:13) But realistically, while I can look back at some wounds today and call them healed, some are still open. I have memories of making some mistake or another in front of someone else, and I know that I misrepresented myself to them in a way that hurts. I want to give myself credit, because I know that I've given great efforts in life to love others and be the man I ought to be, but I know or have good reason to strongly suspect that those people don't see the good in me that they should.
Sometimes I just have a fairly simple memory of a merely embarrassing moment that likely wasn't memorable for anyone else. Those sting a bit but really don't matter. At other times, they were too personal with others to have gone unnoticed. What I'll relate here is personal, but almost no one sees this blog, so the risk is minimal, I imagine.
One of these things I've carried around for years is a time when I was with my second brother, his wife, and my own wife while at my mother's house. It was merely a matter of me being naive. Previously, Jeri Lynn and I had watched a slightly old movie with some unfortunately lewd humor in it. One of the characters used a word that, at the time, just sounded like a funny word, and in the film the way it was used had a funny ring to it. I didn't know what it meant, but the humor appealed to me. So back to the situation, in front of my brother and his wife, I turned to my wife and, just to be silly and share the humor, I said (to my shame), "I think I'll call you ____," using the word from the movie. My brother responded with, "I think that means something bad," and I immediately realized that I'd made quite an error by using the word without knowing its meaning, especially when the context in the film should have made me suspicious. I may have looked up the word online later. Either way, in the years that followed I never found occasion to bring up the mistake and explain it. I don't know if they even remember it, but I always felt that when understood, the mistake ought to have been forgivable.
Sometimes my mistakes were brought on by stress and hardship. After my deployment to Afghanistan, I wasn't emotionally healthy and was sometimes highly stressed out for no reason related to events surrounding me. I was on an all night duty (battalion "Staff Duty") with responsibility for overseeing physical grounds when I heard a report that someone had broken into the area and stolen a few things. I called one of the company commanders and meant to say something to the effect of it being a battalion-level event in his company area but was not recovered from the stresses I'd encountered while deployed and additionally tired from being up all night, and I used the term "company-level". The man I was speaking to reacted with a "What???" He knew me very little, but people who knew me from that unit knew me at my lowest, when I'd succeeded far less than I'd wanted because of the stresses. I'm sure the reaction in his mind must have been, "This guy is a total moron." I'm sure many people from that unit esteemed me rather poorly, having seen me only during a time of my life when I was struggling greatly.
I think I may have finally forgotten some of my life's stinging moments, but some go back even farther in time than those others. I was engaged once before marrying my wife. After that other woman called off the engagement and then broke up with me, things went poorly, to say the least, and I found myself unable to concentrate as I needed to. I couldn't think well enough to write, and failed my English 1010 class. (There's a whole dumb story about me and English classes, but that's for another time.) I wrote a couple of letters to the woman following the breakup; the first was right after the breakup and before the relationship really changed, and it was well-received. The second was later. I hoped to express some important things to her. Sadly, as I mentioned, by this time I wasn't thinking as clearly as I wanted, and sometimes people just make mistakes. Early in the letter I'd intended to write about how I had been happy to learn "to be interdependent", but I somehow fell upon the word "codependent" instead. To give myself some credit, for people who are not well initiated with the two words, they can sound similar, but the meanings are really vastly different. I never got a chance to ask her about that letter and that word, but I cannot imagine that it left a positive idea in her mind. I don't know if it really bothered her a lot or was just another brick in the wall for her. Either way, it's something that I still remember after fifteen years.
What I've described could perhaps be termed "self-inflicted wounds", in that they came from my own mistakes. There are also wounds we receive very much from others. Though both arise from misunderstanding--and I think that if we really had proper understanding we would never find reason to wound one another--even the deepest wounds inflicted by others end up being forgivable for me. I've never wanted to hold a grudge against anyone, and it's really not my nature to do so, even if the difficulties of my deployment changed me and some of the wounds I received during that time cut pretty deeply. All the same, given time, even the worst feelings I have toward others fade.
So it's my own mistakes that mean the most, and it's those wounds that can sometimes still linger.
Will those wounds heal someday also? Yes.
I say "Yes" because I know that someday we'll have understanding. Someday we'll know the trials others have gone through, and we'll have much greater sympathy for them and their reasons for doing what they've done. We'll see that we're often not so different from the people who have caused us pain, especially because we'll see very clearly how we've caused pain in other people's lives--sometimes without even knowing it at the time. And others will understand us, and the reasons why we made mistakes, and the seeming mountains of those mistakes will become so much smaller than molehills as we look out toward eternity.
We'll still be judged. We'll still end up with different degrees of glory than some people we've known in this life. But, aside from those who end up denying themselves of all of God's glory, no matter where we end up I'm sure we'll understand why things happened the way they did and we won't be angry about it. We won't be hurt any more. With a lesser or a greater degree, we'll be happy.
That will be a good day.
Last thoughts for now:
From a mortal perspective, there's a lot of time left when I'll have to continue on with hidden wounds. I hope that I'll always have the strength required for any situation despite those wounds. I don't hope for us to all have perfect understanding in this life, but I do know that one day "every knee shall bow, and every tongue confess before him. Yea, even at the last day, when all men shall stand to be judged of him, then shall they confess that he is God". (Mosiah 27:31) As the prophet Abinadi said, "The time shall come when all shall see the salvation of the Lord; when every nation, kindred, tongue, and people shall see eye to eye and shall confess before God that his judgments are just." (Mosiah 16:1) When we finally come to fully understand the love of our God and of our Savior, and when we all finally "see eye to eye", when we've struggled and struggled to be good people and find that the struggle is finally over, that will be a great day--a day when all wounds will be healed.
Sometimes I just have a fairly simple memory of a merely embarrassing moment that likely wasn't memorable for anyone else. Those sting a bit but really don't matter. At other times, they were too personal with others to have gone unnoticed. What I'll relate here is personal, but almost no one sees this blog, so the risk is minimal, I imagine.
One of these things I've carried around for years is a time when I was with my second brother, his wife, and my own wife while at my mother's house. It was merely a matter of me being naive. Previously, Jeri Lynn and I had watched a slightly old movie with some unfortunately lewd humor in it. One of the characters used a word that, at the time, just sounded like a funny word, and in the film the way it was used had a funny ring to it. I didn't know what it meant, but the humor appealed to me. So back to the situation, in front of my brother and his wife, I turned to my wife and, just to be silly and share the humor, I said (to my shame), "I think I'll call you ____," using the word from the movie. My brother responded with, "I think that means something bad," and I immediately realized that I'd made quite an error by using the word without knowing its meaning, especially when the context in the film should have made me suspicious. I may have looked up the word online later. Either way, in the years that followed I never found occasion to bring up the mistake and explain it. I don't know if they even remember it, but I always felt that when understood, the mistake ought to have been forgivable.
Sometimes my mistakes were brought on by stress and hardship. After my deployment to Afghanistan, I wasn't emotionally healthy and was sometimes highly stressed out for no reason related to events surrounding me. I was on an all night duty (battalion "Staff Duty") with responsibility for overseeing physical grounds when I heard a report that someone had broken into the area and stolen a few things. I called one of the company commanders and meant to say something to the effect of it being a battalion-level event in his company area but was not recovered from the stresses I'd encountered while deployed and additionally tired from being up all night, and I used the term "company-level". The man I was speaking to reacted with a "What???" He knew me very little, but people who knew me from that unit knew me at my lowest, when I'd succeeded far less than I'd wanted because of the stresses. I'm sure the reaction in his mind must have been, "This guy is a total moron." I'm sure many people from that unit esteemed me rather poorly, having seen me only during a time of my life when I was struggling greatly.
I think I may have finally forgotten some of my life's stinging moments, but some go back even farther in time than those others. I was engaged once before marrying my wife. After that other woman called off the engagement and then broke up with me, things went poorly, to say the least, and I found myself unable to concentrate as I needed to. I couldn't think well enough to write, and failed my English 1010 class. (There's a whole dumb story about me and English classes, but that's for another time.) I wrote a couple of letters to the woman following the breakup; the first was right after the breakup and before the relationship really changed, and it was well-received. The second was later. I hoped to express some important things to her. Sadly, as I mentioned, by this time I wasn't thinking as clearly as I wanted, and sometimes people just make mistakes. Early in the letter I'd intended to write about how I had been happy to learn "to be interdependent", but I somehow fell upon the word "codependent" instead. To give myself some credit, for people who are not well initiated with the two words, they can sound similar, but the meanings are really vastly different. I never got a chance to ask her about that letter and that word, but I cannot imagine that it left a positive idea in her mind. I don't know if it really bothered her a lot or was just another brick in the wall for her. Either way, it's something that I still remember after fifteen years.
What I've described could perhaps be termed "self-inflicted wounds", in that they came from my own mistakes. There are also wounds we receive very much from others. Though both arise from misunderstanding--and I think that if we really had proper understanding we would never find reason to wound one another--even the deepest wounds inflicted by others end up being forgivable for me. I've never wanted to hold a grudge against anyone, and it's really not my nature to do so, even if the difficulties of my deployment changed me and some of the wounds I received during that time cut pretty deeply. All the same, given time, even the worst feelings I have toward others fade.
So it's my own mistakes that mean the most, and it's those wounds that can sometimes still linger.
Will those wounds heal someday also? Yes.
I say "Yes" because I know that someday we'll have understanding. Someday we'll know the trials others have gone through, and we'll have much greater sympathy for them and their reasons for doing what they've done. We'll see that we're often not so different from the people who have caused us pain, especially because we'll see very clearly how we've caused pain in other people's lives--sometimes without even knowing it at the time. And others will understand us, and the reasons why we made mistakes, and the seeming mountains of those mistakes will become so much smaller than molehills as we look out toward eternity.
We'll still be judged. We'll still end up with different degrees of glory than some people we've known in this life. But, aside from those who end up denying themselves of all of God's glory, no matter where we end up I'm sure we'll understand why things happened the way they did and we won't be angry about it. We won't be hurt any more. With a lesser or a greater degree, we'll be happy.
That will be a good day.
Last thoughts for now:
From a mortal perspective, there's a lot of time left when I'll have to continue on with hidden wounds. I hope that I'll always have the strength required for any situation despite those wounds. I don't hope for us to all have perfect understanding in this life, but I do know that one day "every knee shall bow, and every tongue confess before him. Yea, even at the last day, when all men shall stand to be judged of him, then shall they confess that he is God". (Mosiah 27:31) As the prophet Abinadi said, "The time shall come when all shall see the salvation of the Lord; when every nation, kindred, tongue, and people shall see eye to eye and shall confess before God that his judgments are just." (Mosiah 16:1) When we finally come to fully understand the love of our God and of our Savior, and when we all finally "see eye to eye", when we've struggled and struggled to be good people and find that the struggle is finally over, that will be a great day--a day when all wounds will be healed.
Monday, June 29, 2015
Fairness
I recently heard a Gospel Doctrine class instructor comment about how she felt bad for the five foolish virgins and the slothful servant spoken of in Matthew 25. I sympathize. Granted, these story characters are fictional, but the reason that the parables are so poignant is that the characters have real-life applicability is that people around us make the choices that these characters make.
So I feel bad for them, too. I don't think what happens to them is unfair or unjust; it's completely fair for an authority to decree terms and reward only those who abide by those terms. I feel bad that they make the wrong choices and earn their just but unpleasant rewards.
(Granted, I fully acknowledge that sometimes I make bad choices and deprive myself of blessings, but I certainly hope to be faithful and fulfill God's plan in my life.)
I would think that the average person would agree that God's judgments are just (and certainly in our own judgment day, faced with full knowledge, it would be pointless to argue), but what some people might say is unfair is that while all ten virgins had an equal chance of succeeding, the three servants clearly had different circumstances to begin with, having been given different amounts of "talents".
Is it unfair?
Prophets have made a comparison stating that this mortal life is merely the second act in a three-act play. What appears to be the beginning is, in fact, not the beginning at all. Similarly, in the parable of the talents, the beginning of the servants' story is really not their beginning. We might ask, "Why would the lord give his servants unequal portions?" The answer is simple: he knew them. These were not servants he had just hired off the street, but probably servants he'd had in his household for years, and "he gave...talents...to every man according to his several ability" (verse 15). He gave five talents to one because, after observing him and coming to know him, the lord knew that he would make good use of those five talents.
Of course, we still are free to choose what we do with the "talents" that the Lord gives us, and sometimes even a five-talent child of God ruins his or her opportunity, but He still gives us an opportunity. How did the lord of the parable treat the slothful servant? He surely didn't expect as much of that one, but still gave him a great opportunity. One talent is no small amount of money. If it is likely that the servant will waste his opportunity, wouldn't squandering five talents be even worse than squandering one?
Another point of fairness is the reward for the faithful. Regardless of the size of the stewardship, the reward is the same. The lord's words to his faithful servants were identical, and they surely would have been the same for the third servant if he'd been faithful also. The end goal of the Plan of Salvation is the greatest possible: "all that [our] Father hath shall be given unto him." (Doctrine and Covenants 84:38) If a five-talent servant and a two-talent servant both end up with everything, neither has anything to complain about.
Last thoughts for now:
I keep going to church, praying with my family, and doing a lot of other things while maintaining a religious focus in all aspects of my life because I know the Plan of Salvation is true and good, and I hope to receive what God wants to give me. I hope he'll say, "Well done, thou good and faithful servant". If, however, I failed, I would always admit that His gifts to me and His judgments were fair.
So I feel bad for them, too. I don't think what happens to them is unfair or unjust; it's completely fair for an authority to decree terms and reward only those who abide by those terms. I feel bad that they make the wrong choices and earn their just but unpleasant rewards.
(Granted, I fully acknowledge that sometimes I make bad choices and deprive myself of blessings, but I certainly hope to be faithful and fulfill God's plan in my life.)
I would think that the average person would agree that God's judgments are just (and certainly in our own judgment day, faced with full knowledge, it would be pointless to argue), but what some people might say is unfair is that while all ten virgins had an equal chance of succeeding, the three servants clearly had different circumstances to begin with, having been given different amounts of "talents".
Is it unfair?
Prophets have made a comparison stating that this mortal life is merely the second act in a three-act play. What appears to be the beginning is, in fact, not the beginning at all. Similarly, in the parable of the talents, the beginning of the servants' story is really not their beginning. We might ask, "Why would the lord give his servants unequal portions?" The answer is simple: he knew them. These were not servants he had just hired off the street, but probably servants he'd had in his household for years, and "he gave...talents...to every man according to his several ability" (verse 15). He gave five talents to one because, after observing him and coming to know him, the lord knew that he would make good use of those five talents.
Of course, we still are free to choose what we do with the "talents" that the Lord gives us, and sometimes even a five-talent child of God ruins his or her opportunity, but He still gives us an opportunity. How did the lord of the parable treat the slothful servant? He surely didn't expect as much of that one, but still gave him a great opportunity. One talent is no small amount of money. If it is likely that the servant will waste his opportunity, wouldn't squandering five talents be even worse than squandering one?
Another point of fairness is the reward for the faithful. Regardless of the size of the stewardship, the reward is the same. The lord's words to his faithful servants were identical, and they surely would have been the same for the third servant if he'd been faithful also. The end goal of the Plan of Salvation is the greatest possible: "all that [our] Father hath shall be given unto him." (Doctrine and Covenants 84:38) If a five-talent servant and a two-talent servant both end up with everything, neither has anything to complain about.
Last thoughts for now:
I keep going to church, praying with my family, and doing a lot of other things while maintaining a religious focus in all aspects of my life because I know the Plan of Salvation is true and good, and I hope to receive what God wants to give me. I hope he'll say, "Well done, thou good and faithful servant". If, however, I failed, I would always admit that His gifts to me and His judgments were fair.
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
Love, Charity, Truth
Mark 12:29-31 -- "And Jesus answered him, The first of all the commandments is...thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength...And the second is...Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. There is none other commandment greater than these."
John 13:34 -- "A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another."
Moroni 7:47 -- "...charity is the pure love of Christ"
Moroni 7:46 -- "...if ye have not charity, ye are nothing"
I've heard it said more than once that despite the commandment we've been given to love everyone, it's not possible. I think it was spoken with a sense of practicality by people who readily acknowledged that there were people they knew whom they definitely did not love. I understand that, and I appreciate their candor, but what they said wasn't true. The fact is that we can love everyone. Maybe we can't all to do so all at once, without growing and exercising ourselves to gain that love, and sometimes there are people who are particularly difficult to love and who may have injured us seriously in some way. But we have great examples of others, Jesus Christ being the foremost but many more mere mortals as well, who have shown great love to others who were the most difficult to love or the least deserving.
I try to love everyone. I sure don't always succeed. But I have felt that love for everyone before, and I try to keep it with me. Interestingly, some of the times when I've most strongly felt the emotion of love for all were times when I was experiencing great trials. Otherwise, when I feel the greatest love is when I am engaged in service toward them. That service is a key component, and without taking the time for others I'm sure it would be impossible to gain or keep a love for them.
While service is essential, there are many good things which are not sufficient in and of themselves. The words of 1 Corinthians 13:1-3 strike me particularly: "Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing."
One way to serve others is by declaring truth in this world so full of falsehood and deception. If we love those around us, we'll want the best for them. We'll want to speak the truth to enlighten them, if we happen to have light to share. (And we'll want to gain that light so that we can share it.) However, we run a certain risk. When we speak to what is true or right we either explicitly or implicitly speak to what is false or wrong. In doing so, some will feel as if we're condemning ("judging") them. Perhaps it's a rare thing these days for people to speak the truth while still genuinely loving those who don't seem to live by it, but I don't think that's the real problem. I think instead the real problem is the underlying but widely prevalent message that to disagree with someone's actions or lifestyle is to hate them. Love is preached to be synonymous with complete acceptance of not only the basic person but of everything they do.
The real challenge for me is to live in such a way that people know I love them. When the situation arises in which they could interpret my words as either condemnation or encouragement, they won't just see me as a "sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal." They will know that I really do want what is best for them and that I still love them even with their incorrect choices, just as I hope others will still love me despite my choices that either are wrong or seem wrong to them.
Last thoughts for now:
I know that some people will never feel the love I have for them even when I'm doing my very best to have that love. I know that I haven't overcome selfishness and have certainly not achieved perfect charity in my heart. But I know that it is right and good that I should have that love. I know that I need to keep that love as a constant goal in my life and that without it, nothing else matters. I hope that I can teach it to my children and encourage it in all those around me. Charity is greater than hope, but I'll keep hope in a world that knows real charity.
John 13:34 -- "A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another."
Moroni 7:47 -- "...charity is the pure love of Christ"
Moroni 7:46 -- "...if ye have not charity, ye are nothing"
I've heard it said more than once that despite the commandment we've been given to love everyone, it's not possible. I think it was spoken with a sense of practicality by people who readily acknowledged that there were people they knew whom they definitely did not love. I understand that, and I appreciate their candor, but what they said wasn't true. The fact is that we can love everyone. Maybe we can't all to do so all at once, without growing and exercising ourselves to gain that love, and sometimes there are people who are particularly difficult to love and who may have injured us seriously in some way. But we have great examples of others, Jesus Christ being the foremost but many more mere mortals as well, who have shown great love to others who were the most difficult to love or the least deserving.
I try to love everyone. I sure don't always succeed. But I have felt that love for everyone before, and I try to keep it with me. Interestingly, some of the times when I've most strongly felt the emotion of love for all were times when I was experiencing great trials. Otherwise, when I feel the greatest love is when I am engaged in service toward them. That service is a key component, and without taking the time for others I'm sure it would be impossible to gain or keep a love for them.
While service is essential, there are many good things which are not sufficient in and of themselves. The words of 1 Corinthians 13:1-3 strike me particularly: "Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing."
One way to serve others is by declaring truth in this world so full of falsehood and deception. If we love those around us, we'll want the best for them. We'll want to speak the truth to enlighten them, if we happen to have light to share. (And we'll want to gain that light so that we can share it.) However, we run a certain risk. When we speak to what is true or right we either explicitly or implicitly speak to what is false or wrong. In doing so, some will feel as if we're condemning ("judging") them. Perhaps it's a rare thing these days for people to speak the truth while still genuinely loving those who don't seem to live by it, but I don't think that's the real problem. I think instead the real problem is the underlying but widely prevalent message that to disagree with someone's actions or lifestyle is to hate them. Love is preached to be synonymous with complete acceptance of not only the basic person but of everything they do.
The real challenge for me is to live in such a way that people know I love them. When the situation arises in which they could interpret my words as either condemnation or encouragement, they won't just see me as a "sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal." They will know that I really do want what is best for them and that I still love them even with their incorrect choices, just as I hope others will still love me despite my choices that either are wrong or seem wrong to them.
Last thoughts for now:
I know that some people will never feel the love I have for them even when I'm doing my very best to have that love. I know that I haven't overcome selfishness and have certainly not achieved perfect charity in my heart. But I know that it is right and good that I should have that love. I know that I need to keep that love as a constant goal in my life and that without it, nothing else matters. I hope that I can teach it to my children and encourage it in all those around me. Charity is greater than hope, but I'll keep hope in a world that knows real charity.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
“I should not call any man common or unclean”
(written 21 Aug 11)
Those words were spoken by the apostle Peter after he had gained crucial spiritual insight (in Acts 10:28). He considered the Gentiles to be unworthy of his spiritual attention until God showed him otherwise in a dream. Peter wasn’t solely to blame; after he taught and baptized a group of Gentiles the other disciples of Christ were incredulous until he gave them a full explanation. It was something built into their culture—they perceived some people as just being different. Even though Cornelius was a “devout man, and one that feared God with all his house, which gave much alms to the people, and prayed to God alway” (Acts 10:2), Peter would have ignored this spiritual devotion just because of circumstances. But, after being enlightened by God, Peter learned that He “is no respecter of persons; But in every nation he that feareth him, and worketh righteousness, is accepted with him.”
Yes, I know that there is only one true and living church on the earth. Yes, I know that no one outside of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints holds the Priesthood. We can know these things because they are true. Sometimes, though, we miss the mark and run risks with the children of our Heavenly Father who are in such great need of our help. Sometimes we alienate others who are doing their best to follow Christ.
I don’t always know how to speak with others when I want to share the restored Gospel with them. Should I testify right now? Should I just listen? Should I offer explanations? Should I distance myself from disrespectful words? I think though, that when I show respect and acknowledge others’ spiritual devotion that they’ll be more likely to recognize mine. I think that Heavenly Father appreciates their good desires and spiritual learning, even if they aren’t blessed enough yet to have been properly inspired and invited to follow Christ through the restored gospel in the restored Church. God doesn’t think we’re better than them; I doubt He sees the same “us” and “them” that we do. When a man studies scripture, even if he doesn’t understand it all, God is pleased by it. When a man prays sincerely and then goes out to do good in the world simply out of the love of his heart or the desire to obey God, God is pleased by it.
As Peter came to ask, I ask myself: “What [am] I, that I could withstand God?” (Acts 11:17) “God hath shewed me that I should not call any man common or unclean.”
Last thoughts for now:
I need to value the spiritual insight others have just as I hope they value mine. Even if I know they misunderstand some things, and even if I know that the wholly reliable source of truth is elsewhere (in the Church), I have gained understanding and perspective from people who aren’t members of the Church. I hope that they feel my love. I hope that they see in me a good example; I hope that by speaking with me they gain a better understanding of what it means to be a disciple of Christ. I hope I can see everyone as God sees them. And I hope that when all is said and done that He does not call me “common or unclean”.
Those words were spoken by the apostle Peter after he had gained crucial spiritual insight (in Acts 10:28). He considered the Gentiles to be unworthy of his spiritual attention until God showed him otherwise in a dream. Peter wasn’t solely to blame; after he taught and baptized a group of Gentiles the other disciples of Christ were incredulous until he gave them a full explanation. It was something built into their culture—they perceived some people as just being different. Even though Cornelius was a “devout man, and one that feared God with all his house, which gave much alms to the people, and prayed to God alway” (Acts 10:2), Peter would have ignored this spiritual devotion just because of circumstances. But, after being enlightened by God, Peter learned that He “is no respecter of persons; But in every nation he that feareth him, and worketh righteousness, is accepted with him.”
Yes, I know that there is only one true and living church on the earth. Yes, I know that no one outside of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints holds the Priesthood. We can know these things because they are true. Sometimes, though, we miss the mark and run risks with the children of our Heavenly Father who are in such great need of our help. Sometimes we alienate others who are doing their best to follow Christ.
I don’t always know how to speak with others when I want to share the restored Gospel with them. Should I testify right now? Should I just listen? Should I offer explanations? Should I distance myself from disrespectful words? I think though, that when I show respect and acknowledge others’ spiritual devotion that they’ll be more likely to recognize mine. I think that Heavenly Father appreciates their good desires and spiritual learning, even if they aren’t blessed enough yet to have been properly inspired and invited to follow Christ through the restored gospel in the restored Church. God doesn’t think we’re better than them; I doubt He sees the same “us” and “them” that we do. When a man studies scripture, even if he doesn’t understand it all, God is pleased by it. When a man prays sincerely and then goes out to do good in the world simply out of the love of his heart or the desire to obey God, God is pleased by it.
As Peter came to ask, I ask myself: “What [am] I, that I could withstand God?” (Acts 11:17) “God hath shewed me that I should not call any man common or unclean.”
Last thoughts for now:
I need to value the spiritual insight others have just as I hope they value mine. Even if I know they misunderstand some things, and even if I know that the wholly reliable source of truth is elsewhere (in the Church), I have gained understanding and perspective from people who aren’t members of the Church. I hope that they feel my love. I hope that they see in me a good example; I hope that by speaking with me they gain a better understanding of what it means to be a disciple of Christ. I hope I can see everyone as God sees them. And I hope that when all is said and done that He does not call me “common or unclean”.
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