Prophets and Jesus Christ Himself have referred to the covenant people at times as "the elect". I've written a bit about this before, but I had a particular thought about the word recently. I saw this in Matthew 24:24 (with the same wording in Joseph Smith--Mathew 1:22). For those of us who grew up in the Church, hearing the term "the elect" sounds pretty normal, though I think we often associate the wrong meaning with it, though. I think that we (people in general) have often taken terms like "elect" or "chosen" to mean something like "special". It's surely very possible for someone to take pride in belonging to "the elect"; sometimes the feeling is more overt, as with the Zoramites in Alma 31, but I think it is sometimes only felt rather subtly.
Members of the Church of Jesus Christ could fall into the trap of thinking that being "the elect" means we have achieved a higher spiritual state and are somehow more or better than other people around us. But that's not what "elect" means.
Where else do we hear the word "elect" being used? Perhaps in a governmental election, such as a presidential election. In this case the "president-elect" has indeed been chosen, but is explicitly *not* the president yet.
He isn't there yet. And we, as the "elect" aren't either.
Being "the elect" is an indication of being something someday in the future. Members of the Church have made a covenant with God to follow His Son, and thus, by faith in Him, repentance, and obedience to the laws and ordinances of the Gospel we can one day be exalted. In the meanwhile, it's good to remember that we haven't reached our goal yet. We've got a path to follow, and work to do, and only after we follow that path and finish our mortal course will we make a transition from elect to exalted. That's why we have a warning from the Savior that even the elect can be deceived.
Last thoughts for now:
I hope I keep the right attitude about being a member of the Church of Jesus Christ--that I can keep the duties of my covenants in mind and never set myself above others. I hope to avoid being deceived. I hope that one day I will have fulfilled the role of the elect, and that one day the Lord will say to me the same thing spoken in the parable in Matthew 25:21 -- "Well done, thou good and faithful servant." Until then, I can keep trying to live in a way that will be accepted by Him.
Tuesday, September 24, 2019
Sunday, August 25, 2019
The Will and Unity of the Father and Son
Do God the Father and Jesus Christ have the same desires--the same will?
In recent months, I've been pretty active in the comments for the Now You Know series published by the Church on YouTube. It's been a very positive experience for me, whether helping to clarify errors stated by other users or answer sincere questions from seekers of truth. Today the interaction brought me to a thought I'd never had about a subject that I've understood for years.
The interesting comments were in response to a video about the nature of the Godhead. As could be expected, some Christians of other religions had some disagreements. Some members of the Church responded and some were more proactive in their comments; one quoted Jesus Christ asking the Father if the metaphoric cup could pass from Him, of course followed by his statement, "Nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done." The Church member then suggested that it wouldn't make sense for a being to ask permission of itself and then acquiesce to itself. I agree. Then, in a reply, another user (whose religion was not stated), asked: "Interesting... if Jesus knew he was God, why would he ask the Father for permission? Why would he put the Father's will before his own? Do their wills differ?"
One of the major aspects of the nature of the Godhead is that They are united in purpose. That makes it easy to raise the question, "Do their wills differ?" If Christ subordinated His will to that of God the Father, then Their wills *must* have differed in some way.
I think the key difference in Their wills comes from the very fact that They are separate entities. Jesus was nearing the end of His mortal experience, but still mortal, and performing an infinite Atonement for our sins that caused Him more emotional and physical anguish than anyone else has ever known. His body was subject to pain and a natural desire to avoid or end that pain. Thus, the Man who was experiencing the pain of the Atonement had, within Him, the will that it should stop. However, because of His great love for His Father and for us, He put that will beneath the will of His Father, who surely empathized with His Son but yet knew that the Atonement of Christ was necessary for the salvation of all.
So during His mortal life, Jesus' mortal experiences in a physical but imperfect body would have given Him desires that, although supremely tempered and controlled by Him, were a part of His will. That was what made His selflessness and righteousness so great.
Last thoughts for now:
I'm grateful for the Atonement of Jesus Christ. I'm grateful for His perfect example to us. I'm also grateful to be able to continually learn through study and testimony.
In recent months, I've been pretty active in the comments for the Now You Know series published by the Church on YouTube. It's been a very positive experience for me, whether helping to clarify errors stated by other users or answer sincere questions from seekers of truth. Today the interaction brought me to a thought I'd never had about a subject that I've understood for years.
The interesting comments were in response to a video about the nature of the Godhead. As could be expected, some Christians of other religions had some disagreements. Some members of the Church responded and some were more proactive in their comments; one quoted Jesus Christ asking the Father if the metaphoric cup could pass from Him, of course followed by his statement, "Nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done." The Church member then suggested that it wouldn't make sense for a being to ask permission of itself and then acquiesce to itself. I agree. Then, in a reply, another user (whose religion was not stated), asked: "Interesting... if Jesus knew he was God, why would he ask the Father for permission? Why would he put the Father's will before his own? Do their wills differ?"
One of the major aspects of the nature of the Godhead is that They are united in purpose. That makes it easy to raise the question, "Do their wills differ?" If Christ subordinated His will to that of God the Father, then Their wills *must* have differed in some way.
I think the key difference in Their wills comes from the very fact that They are separate entities. Jesus was nearing the end of His mortal experience, but still mortal, and performing an infinite Atonement for our sins that caused Him more emotional and physical anguish than anyone else has ever known. His body was subject to pain and a natural desire to avoid or end that pain. Thus, the Man who was experiencing the pain of the Atonement had, within Him, the will that it should stop. However, because of His great love for His Father and for us, He put that will beneath the will of His Father, who surely empathized with His Son but yet knew that the Atonement of Christ was necessary for the salvation of all.
So during His mortal life, Jesus' mortal experiences in a physical but imperfect body would have given Him desires that, although supremely tempered and controlled by Him, were a part of His will. That was what made His selflessness and righteousness so great.
Last thoughts for now:
I'm grateful for the Atonement of Jesus Christ. I'm grateful for His perfect example to us. I'm also grateful to be able to continually learn through study and testimony.
Sunday, March 17, 2019
Borne of Four
Today I was surprised by how much I appreciated our Sunday School lesson about Jesus' miracles in the early chapters of Matthew, Mark, and Luke. Having heard the stories so many times over the years, I didn't expect anything particularly new or good, but it was really quite sweet. One of my favorites is the story of the healing of the centurion's servant in Luke 7 (and Matthew 8), but today I was struck very much by the story of the man healed of a "palsy" after being lowered through a roof.
In many of the miraculous healings, individuals approached Jesus and asked for healing for themselves or on behalf of loved ones, but in this case, the person was not able to. Instead, as we read in Mark 2:3, he was brought by others: "And they come unto him, bringing one sick of the palsy, which was borne of four."
We don't know much at all about these four people. We can assume that they cared a lot about this man, but I think it's more than that. I imagine that there must have been quite a bit of effort involved, some convincing, and some coordination and ingenuity in order to get a paralyzed person up onto a roof and then lower him down through it. Their efforts definitely demonstrated faith, and it was their faith that brought about the miracle; see verse 5 where Jesus responded "when [He] saw their faith".
Of course we should seek our own blessings from God. We've been instructed many times to ask for those things that we need. I think, though, that sometimes we're unable to do so or perhaps, for some reason or another, not in the best position to seek and receive blessings by our own faith. Maybe in those cases we need to be "borne of four", or maybe more people than that, who devote time and energy to helping us.
Conversely, I truly believe that sometimes we need to be among the four. There are often people nearby who are in need. Sometimes they aren't able to do everything they need; at other times, maybe they can--strictly speaking--but in a practical sense they might not receive blessings if not for our efforts on their behalf.
Last thoughts for now:
I'm grateful for the people have have metaphorically carried me at times in the past. I'm also grateful for the opportunities I've had to serve others and bring them to blessings of the Gospel. I especially hope that I will yet have many occasions in which I can be among the "four".
In many of the miraculous healings, individuals approached Jesus and asked for healing for themselves or on behalf of loved ones, but in this case, the person was not able to. Instead, as we read in Mark 2:3, he was brought by others: "And they come unto him, bringing one sick of the palsy, which was borne of four."
We don't know much at all about these four people. We can assume that they cared a lot about this man, but I think it's more than that. I imagine that there must have been quite a bit of effort involved, some convincing, and some coordination and ingenuity in order to get a paralyzed person up onto a roof and then lower him down through it. Their efforts definitely demonstrated faith, and it was their faith that brought about the miracle; see verse 5 where Jesus responded "when [He] saw their faith".
Of course we should seek our own blessings from God. We've been instructed many times to ask for those things that we need. I think, though, that sometimes we're unable to do so or perhaps, for some reason or another, not in the best position to seek and receive blessings by our own faith. Maybe in those cases we need to be "borne of four", or maybe more people than that, who devote time and energy to helping us.
Conversely, I truly believe that sometimes we need to be among the four. There are often people nearby who are in need. Sometimes they aren't able to do everything they need; at other times, maybe they can--strictly speaking--but in a practical sense they might not receive blessings if not for our efforts on their behalf.
Last thoughts for now:
I'm grateful for the people have have metaphorically carried me at times in the past. I'm also grateful for the opportunities I've had to serve others and bring them to blessings of the Gospel. I especially hope that I will yet have many occasions in which I can be among the "four".
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.
Wednesday, September 19, 2018
Our Covenant to Weep
I've seen some good advice in recent years about helping others who are grieving. When tragedy strikes, it is very natural that we feel sadness, and it's a mistake to try to avoid feeling that sadness or prevent others from feeling it. In fact, it is part of our covenant as disciples of Christ to do just the opposite.
Among other things, Alma spoke as part of the baptismal covenant dealing with helping others during their times of trial. Specifically, (in Mosiah 18:8-9) he listed that those who make the covenant "are willing to":
1. "bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light"
2. "mourn with those that mourn"
3. "comfort those that stand in need of comfort"
We're explicitly given a very interesting instruction in the Doctrine and Covenants (42:45): "Thou shalt live together in love, insomuch that thou shalt weep for the loss of them that die".
(So while I think my thoughts before were valid in an earlier post on 07 December 2008, I guess I can cut that one guy in the picture a little bit of slack when he was mourning the loss of President Hinckley. But only a little, because I think that mourning with others is meaningful when we actually know them and can communicate directly with them about their loss. Anyway...)
Jesus himself, the ultimate exemplar, wept for someone He knew He was going to raise from the dead. It's the shortest verse in scripture: "Jesus wept." (John 11:35) Even though Jesus knew that Mary and Martha's mourning would not last long, He took the time to weep with them--to mourn with them.
Last thoughts for now:
We all will have cause to mourn at times. To me, an important way of showing love to others is to recognize that their feelings are real and valid, and we can do so effectively by sharing those feelings. More than that, taking time to weep with others is also part of being a covenant disciple of Christ. I hope to always remember that.
Among other things, Alma spoke as part of the baptismal covenant dealing with helping others during their times of trial. Specifically, (in Mosiah 18:8-9) he listed that those who make the covenant "are willing to":
1. "bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light"
2. "mourn with those that mourn"
3. "comfort those that stand in need of comfort"
We're explicitly given a very interesting instruction in the Doctrine and Covenants (42:45): "Thou shalt live together in love, insomuch that thou shalt weep for the loss of them that die".
(So while I think my thoughts before were valid in an earlier post on 07 December 2008, I guess I can cut that one guy in the picture a little bit of slack when he was mourning the loss of President Hinckley. But only a little, because I think that mourning with others is meaningful when we actually know them and can communicate directly with them about their loss. Anyway...)
Jesus himself, the ultimate exemplar, wept for someone He knew He was going to raise from the dead. It's the shortest verse in scripture: "Jesus wept." (John 11:35) Even though Jesus knew that Mary and Martha's mourning would not last long, He took the time to weep with them--to mourn with them.
Last thoughts for now:
We all will have cause to mourn at times. To me, an important way of showing love to others is to recognize that their feelings are real and valid, and we can do so effectively by sharing those feelings. More than that, taking time to weep with others is also part of being a covenant disciple of Christ. I hope to always remember that.
Sunday, September 9, 2018
Do We Truly Follow the Prophet?
Last week, while visiting another ward, someone from their elders quorum mentioned that the next general conference is approaching. I'd been contemplating President Nelson's talk from the last general conference (https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2018/04/revelation-for-the-church-revelation-for-our-lives?lang=eng) and what I should be teaching about it today. It was an unusual lesson in that I taught the same thing roughly a couple of months ago and the quorum president felt that we should review it again. As I heard, last week, that the next conference was approaching, it occurred to me that we have little time left to obey President Nelson's instruction to us before he gives us more.
I did take his counsel to heart. In fact, one of his remarks has struck me possibly more than any other from any general conference in my lifetime: "In coming days, it will not be possible to survive spiritually without the guiding, directing, comforting, and constant influence of the Holy Ghost." I believe it easily, as I've already seen people I love fall and lose the blessings of their testimony. But there's a difference between hearing God's word through His prophets, and obeying that word.
I counted the number of direct instructions President Nelson gave us, starting about two thirds of the way into his talk. By my count, he gave fourteen direct instructions and implicitly directed us to act another seven times. Specifically, he told us to do the following: "Pray in the name of Jesus Christ about your concerns, your fears, your weaknesses—yes, the very longings of your heart. And then listen! Write the thoughts that come to your mind. Record your feelings and follow through with actions that you are prompted to take." He then suggested that it should be a daily activity: "As you repeat this process day after day, month after month, year after year, you will 'grow into the principle of revelation.'"
Pray.
Listen!
Write our thoughts.
Record our feelings.
Follow through with actions.
Does our religion mean something? Does our claim to discipleship mean something? One method for gauging this would be to ask: are we following the direction of the prophet of God? Are we seeking revelation from God and then writing down what we receive and acting upon it?
I write this with a bit less focus on just myself, partly because President Nelson's counsel was directed to everyone living on the earth. Some of us, and likely many of us, are not already doing what he directed us to do.
If not, what are we to do? The answer is simple: we are to obey. If we're not doing all that we should, we still have an opportunity. He told us to "stretch beyond [our] current spiritual ability to receive personal revelation" and again to "increase [our] spiritual capacity to receive revelation."
So we should get some paper and a pen, or open a new computer file where we record revelation regularly. We should "choose to do the spiritual work required".
Naturally, President Nelson told us of promised blessings, but he also gave a very direct warning, letting us know that some of us will not survive spiritually in the modern world. That's a thought that merits concern, and his counsel merits the obedience of true discipleship.
Last thoughts for now:
We have a little less than a month left to obey the prophet's counsel before we receive more. Granted, late obedience will still bring blessings, but by not following the counsel now we risk not following it ever, and God is only telling us these things so that out lives can be better for it. A while back I picked up a small, fat notebook and began recording what I believe are inspired thoughts and feelings. I haven't been seeking revelation daily yet, but I know I can improve, and I know that as I follow President Nelson's counsel by seeking revelation I will be better prepared for what God has to give us in the next general conference.
I did take his counsel to heart. In fact, one of his remarks has struck me possibly more than any other from any general conference in my lifetime: "In coming days, it will not be possible to survive spiritually without the guiding, directing, comforting, and constant influence of the Holy Ghost." I believe it easily, as I've already seen people I love fall and lose the blessings of their testimony. But there's a difference between hearing God's word through His prophets, and obeying that word.
I counted the number of direct instructions President Nelson gave us, starting about two thirds of the way into his talk. By my count, he gave fourteen direct instructions and implicitly directed us to act another seven times. Specifically, he told us to do the following: "Pray in the name of Jesus Christ about your concerns, your fears, your weaknesses—yes, the very longings of your heart. And then listen! Write the thoughts that come to your mind. Record your feelings and follow through with actions that you are prompted to take." He then suggested that it should be a daily activity: "As you repeat this process day after day, month after month, year after year, you will 'grow into the principle of revelation.'"
Pray.
Listen!
Write our thoughts.
Record our feelings.
Follow through with actions.
Does our religion mean something? Does our claim to discipleship mean something? One method for gauging this would be to ask: are we following the direction of the prophet of God? Are we seeking revelation from God and then writing down what we receive and acting upon it?
I write this with a bit less focus on just myself, partly because President Nelson's counsel was directed to everyone living on the earth. Some of us, and likely many of us, are not already doing what he directed us to do.
If not, what are we to do? The answer is simple: we are to obey. If we're not doing all that we should, we still have an opportunity. He told us to "stretch beyond [our] current spiritual ability to receive personal revelation" and again to "increase [our] spiritual capacity to receive revelation."
So we should get some paper and a pen, or open a new computer file where we record revelation regularly. We should "choose to do the spiritual work required".
Naturally, President Nelson told us of promised blessings, but he also gave a very direct warning, letting us know that some of us will not survive spiritually in the modern world. That's a thought that merits concern, and his counsel merits the obedience of true discipleship.
Last thoughts for now:
We have a little less than a month left to obey the prophet's counsel before we receive more. Granted, late obedience will still bring blessings, but by not following the counsel now we risk not following it ever, and God is only telling us these things so that out lives can be better for it. A while back I picked up a small, fat notebook and began recording what I believe are inspired thoughts and feelings. I haven't been seeking revelation daily yet, but I know I can improve, and I know that as I follow President Nelson's counsel by seeking revelation I will be better prepared for what God has to give us in the next general conference.
Monday, July 9, 2018
By Small and Simple Things
"By small and simple things are great things brought to pass..."
--Alma the Younger to his son Helaman (Alma 37:6)
I've seen that passage many times, and I always wanted to appreciate meaning in it, but yesterday I read it differently for the first time.
I always used to take the meaning as something like, "Pay attention to the small things, because sometimes they're important because they play a part in larger things." But that's not what the passage says. The prophet Alma wasn't telling his son that small things are only sometimes important. The words in that passage of scripture declare a broad truth: that, as a rule, great things happen by means of small things. That's how life works.
It's easy for me to reflect on Army training exercises or other operations and see this principle in action. When a large unit accomplishes anything, it happens through multiple people taking and issuing instruction, and through many very small actions over a long period of time. Many soldiers conducting individual training or learning some seemingly mundane skill may feel like the small, simple task is not very important, but a large exercise comes together only through many people performing many small tasks.
My greatest hopes are, I believe, being realized through simple actions. My greatest desire is for my children, that they will be faithful disciples of Christ and productive members of society. I take many small moments to teach them little things about everything from history to science to language to anything else. The small and simple actions I think are most important are those we've been counseled repeatedly to perform: prayer and scripture study. Our (usually) nightly tradition of "Family Time", during which we sing a bit, study a few verses of scripture, and pray together, is of the greatest importance to me. It only takes a few minutes, and the lessons learned are often small, but I do it all hoping that my children will be strong adults, and that will be a great thing.
Last thoughts for now:
I've long taken a view that small things are important. (I even included a similar thought in my book.) But perhaps I wanted to take an easier view of things--that the small actions we take, or the small thoughts or feelings we harbor, or any of the other various small concerns we have from day to day are only sometimes important for a larger purpose. I think that now I have a better understanding of the principle Alma taught to his son. Of course, I still fail in many small things from day to day, but I continually seek to repent and do better, and I will never underestimate how vital they are.
--Alma the Younger to his son Helaman (Alma 37:6)
I've seen that passage many times, and I always wanted to appreciate meaning in it, but yesterday I read it differently for the first time.
I always used to take the meaning as something like, "Pay attention to the small things, because sometimes they're important because they play a part in larger things." But that's not what the passage says. The prophet Alma wasn't telling his son that small things are only sometimes important. The words in that passage of scripture declare a broad truth: that, as a rule, great things happen by means of small things. That's how life works.
It's easy for me to reflect on Army training exercises or other operations and see this principle in action. When a large unit accomplishes anything, it happens through multiple people taking and issuing instruction, and through many very small actions over a long period of time. Many soldiers conducting individual training or learning some seemingly mundane skill may feel like the small, simple task is not very important, but a large exercise comes together only through many people performing many small tasks.
My greatest hopes are, I believe, being realized through simple actions. My greatest desire is for my children, that they will be faithful disciples of Christ and productive members of society. I take many small moments to teach them little things about everything from history to science to language to anything else. The small and simple actions I think are most important are those we've been counseled repeatedly to perform: prayer and scripture study. Our (usually) nightly tradition of "Family Time", during which we sing a bit, study a few verses of scripture, and pray together, is of the greatest importance to me. It only takes a few minutes, and the lessons learned are often small, but I do it all hoping that my children will be strong adults, and that will be a great thing.
Last thoughts for now:
I've long taken a view that small things are important. (I even included a similar thought in my book.) But perhaps I wanted to take an easier view of things--that the small actions we take, or the small thoughts or feelings we harbor, or any of the other various small concerns we have from day to day are only sometimes important for a larger purpose. I think that now I have a better understanding of the principle Alma taught to his son. Of course, I still fail in many small things from day to day, but I continually seek to repent and do better, and I will never underestimate how vital they are.
Sunday, April 15, 2018
Dedicated Books of Scripture
In a priesthood executive committee meeting a few months ago (one of the last), some brothers of the Church discussed ways to help the young men our ward. One, who has had more years of experience, spoke about a previous responsibility with youth in which all young mean were instructed to bring their scriptures with them to quorum meetings, and then to also bring with them a copy of the manual used for missionary instruction.
Another brother, who is currently called to work with young men, said that he couldn't ask them to bring paper scriptures because he didn't do that himself. He only kept scriptures in electronic form, on his phone.
Admittedly, I sided more internally with the first brother, and it felt kind of wrong for someone to suggest or imply that electronic scriptures were equivalent to paper copies. I had to think about it, though, in order to try to determine if there really was a difference or if it only amounted to personal custom and preference.
What difference is there? Some of the positive aspects of electronic scriptures are the convenience and the ability to carry markings with us wherever we are and whatever device we're on. Having access to scriptures through small devices that we're already carrying is a great advantage for any of us.
But one fundamental difference in paper versus phones is the inherent purpose. Mobile phones are small but powerful computers that are capable of running a variety of programs, whereas paper scriptures are nothing more than that. On one hand, Church members have many times been distracted by messaging, social media, games, or other things that their phones provide when they should be dedicating their time and attention (and their spirits) to matters at hand, such as teachers, speakers in a sacrament meeting, or even the sacrament itself. Even when people use their devices in truly appropriate ways, there's also the problem of appearance; were I to use my phone in a sacrament meeting for something like looking up a scripture, a young man or young woman or even older folk might see me and assume or wonder if I was distracted. There's just something about seeing a person staring at a phone that is unmistakably lame. But there's more to it than just distraction and appearances. I think there's great value in simply possessing and using objects that are totally dedicated to one purpose. When I bring my scriptures in their case, to various church meetings, I know that I'm doing something that I, strictly speaking, don't need to do. I could take an easier route and leave them home, knowing that I have identical content in my phone, but I'm not looking for the easy route. A phone itself exists for communication, and smart phones now have a variety of purposes but they almost all involve communication, Internet usage, entertainment, or other non-spiritual pursuits. Scripture study is likely an afterthought for most phone users because it's not the reason they have the phone in the first place. Paper scriptures, on the other hand, sitting perpetually on a table or desk in my living room or near my bed, provide a constant visual reminder that I should be studying God's written word.
I think that electronic highlighting also just doesn't feel as personal. Maybe others feel differently.
Of course many people are using electronic copies of the scriptures for good purposes these days. I use them myself, frequently. Electronic availability of scripture is a modern day marvel and allows for access to scripture by anyone. But even so, I find that there is unmatched value in possessing traditional books of scripture that is printed on paper. It's not my place to poorly judge anyone for their own scripture study practices; I don't have the wisdom to make that kind of judgment anyway. But as for me and my house, we'll always have paper.
Last thoughts for now:
When anyone studies scripture, learns from it, and grows closer to the Spirit of God by doing so, they'll receive lasting benefit, regardless of their preferred form of access. But there is value in the dedicated, printed word of God found on paper scriptures. I'll use electronic versions when needed, but I'll go to the expense and effort of keeping printed books for my personal study and general reference.
Another brother, who is currently called to work with young men, said that he couldn't ask them to bring paper scriptures because he didn't do that himself. He only kept scriptures in electronic form, on his phone.
Admittedly, I sided more internally with the first brother, and it felt kind of wrong for someone to suggest or imply that electronic scriptures were equivalent to paper copies. I had to think about it, though, in order to try to determine if there really was a difference or if it only amounted to personal custom and preference.
What difference is there? Some of the positive aspects of electronic scriptures are the convenience and the ability to carry markings with us wherever we are and whatever device we're on. Having access to scriptures through small devices that we're already carrying is a great advantage for any of us.
But one fundamental difference in paper versus phones is the inherent purpose. Mobile phones are small but powerful computers that are capable of running a variety of programs, whereas paper scriptures are nothing more than that. On one hand, Church members have many times been distracted by messaging, social media, games, or other things that their phones provide when they should be dedicating their time and attention (and their spirits) to matters at hand, such as teachers, speakers in a sacrament meeting, or even the sacrament itself. Even when people use their devices in truly appropriate ways, there's also the problem of appearance; were I to use my phone in a sacrament meeting for something like looking up a scripture, a young man or young woman or even older folk might see me and assume or wonder if I was distracted. There's just something about seeing a person staring at a phone that is unmistakably lame. But there's more to it than just distraction and appearances. I think there's great value in simply possessing and using objects that are totally dedicated to one purpose. When I bring my scriptures in their case, to various church meetings, I know that I'm doing something that I, strictly speaking, don't need to do. I could take an easier route and leave them home, knowing that I have identical content in my phone, but I'm not looking for the easy route. A phone itself exists for communication, and smart phones now have a variety of purposes but they almost all involve communication, Internet usage, entertainment, or other non-spiritual pursuits. Scripture study is likely an afterthought for most phone users because it's not the reason they have the phone in the first place. Paper scriptures, on the other hand, sitting perpetually on a table or desk in my living room or near my bed, provide a constant visual reminder that I should be studying God's written word.
I think that electronic highlighting also just doesn't feel as personal. Maybe others feel differently.
Of course many people are using electronic copies of the scriptures for good purposes these days. I use them myself, frequently. Electronic availability of scripture is a modern day marvel and allows for access to scripture by anyone. But even so, I find that there is unmatched value in possessing traditional books of scripture that is printed on paper. It's not my place to poorly judge anyone for their own scripture study practices; I don't have the wisdom to make that kind of judgment anyway. But as for me and my house, we'll always have paper.
Last thoughts for now:
When anyone studies scripture, learns from it, and grows closer to the Spirit of God by doing so, they'll receive lasting benefit, regardless of their preferred form of access. But there is value in the dedicated, printed word of God found on paper scriptures. I'll use electronic versions when needed, but I'll go to the expense and effort of keeping printed books for my personal study and general reference.
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.
Tuesday, October 10, 2017
Replenishing the Earth
A while back I was struck by a particular phrase in the first commandment God ever gave: "Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it: and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth." (Genesis 1:28--identical except for minor punctuation in Moses 2:28)
The word "replenish" sounds odd there. A bit of online research should show anyone that "fill" would be a more proper translation of the word, rather than something that usually means "refill". This means that "multiply" and "replenish the earth" are a bit redundant. Even so, the fact that some translators happened to choose that word (for unknown reasons) makes me think of something. I think of what it would mean to actually replenish the earth in relation to bearing more children, because as we live on the Earth, and have more children who also live on the Earth, thus using natural resources and making a mess.
For decade now there have been some people who argue that the Earth is overpopulated, and some are even proponents of laws that would limit child-bearing. This would be directly in opposition to God's first commandment. If anyone were to confront me about my large family and accuse me of wrongdoing, I would tell them that I do not believe at all that the Earth is over-populated, and that the real problem is that we're not managing the Earth and its resources well. Yes, some people on the Earth are hungry, but if we all managed the land well we could easily produce enough food for everyone currently on the Earth and more. I would tell them that the important thing is to teach children to be good stewards of the Earth, to avoid waste, and to contribute by helping others in need. There's not a lot of direct instruction from Church leaders about how to care for the Earth, and I would always want to avoid getting political (particularly as I don't trust people in government much at all in most cases but also when it comes to environmentalism), but I do believe in managing resources well and cleaning up messes. So on a personal level, I believe in picking up trash and recycling, among other things.
The other aspect to stewardship of the Earth is that it seems to be one of those topics that some Church members easily ignore. I feel that the attitude of not examining ourselves and considering ways that we should change is on of the most spiritually inhibiting factors that can be present in a person's life.
Last thoughts for now:
Granted, "replenish" in Genesis 1:28 would be better translated as "fill". That being said, as I do my part to fill the Earth with God's children, I want to teach them to care for it also, by both word and example.
The word "replenish" sounds odd there. A bit of online research should show anyone that "fill" would be a more proper translation of the word, rather than something that usually means "refill". This means that "multiply" and "replenish the earth" are a bit redundant. Even so, the fact that some translators happened to choose that word (for unknown reasons) makes me think of something. I think of what it would mean to actually replenish the earth in relation to bearing more children, because as we live on the Earth, and have more children who also live on the Earth, thus using natural resources and making a mess.
For decade now there have been some people who argue that the Earth is overpopulated, and some are even proponents of laws that would limit child-bearing. This would be directly in opposition to God's first commandment. If anyone were to confront me about my large family and accuse me of wrongdoing, I would tell them that I do not believe at all that the Earth is over-populated, and that the real problem is that we're not managing the Earth and its resources well. Yes, some people on the Earth are hungry, but if we all managed the land well we could easily produce enough food for everyone currently on the Earth and more. I would tell them that the important thing is to teach children to be good stewards of the Earth, to avoid waste, and to contribute by helping others in need. There's not a lot of direct instruction from Church leaders about how to care for the Earth, and I would always want to avoid getting political (particularly as I don't trust people in government much at all in most cases but also when it comes to environmentalism), but I do believe in managing resources well and cleaning up messes. So on a personal level, I believe in picking up trash and recycling, among other things.
The other aspect to stewardship of the Earth is that it seems to be one of those topics that some Church members easily ignore. I feel that the attitude of not examining ourselves and considering ways that we should change is on of the most spiritually inhibiting factors that can be present in a person's life.
Last thoughts for now:
Granted, "replenish" in Genesis 1:28 would be better translated as "fill". That being said, as I do my part to fill the Earth with God's children, I want to teach them to care for it also, by both word and example.
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