Yes, We Are Our Brothers' and Sisters' Keepers

Remember: It was Cain (a murderer) who replied to God, when asked where Abel was, "Am I my brother's keeper?"  
There are hundreds of verses and passages throughout the Bible (and other religious texts) that say, quite explicitly, that we are our brothers' and sisters' keepers in some way and to some extent. 
It is the determination of the way and the extent where there can be reasonable discussion and disagreement. (For Mormons, however, King Benjamin's sermon sets an incredibly high bar for refusal.) For Christians to deny their responsibility to help "keep" God's children (any of them), at all or minimally, however, is a direct denial of the ministry and teachings of Jesus, of Nazareth. 
Quoting Cain in doing so is the height of irony.

A Rainbow Is Better than an All-White Wall

“Diversity is a strength, not a division. 

I attend a lot of meetings where I’m the only woman. And I attend many, many meetings where I’m the only Oriental woman. You can perhaps imagine how that feels. Have you ever had the feeling that you’re the odd one, the different one? Maybe even too odd or different for this church? The truth is that you’re not odd; you’re special. 

When white light falls on a wall, it makes a white wall. But when it passes through a prism, that same light makes a rainbow on the wall.”

-Chieko Okazaki, "Lighten Up", p. 4

We Sometimes Take Important Things for Granted

I have a friend who once responded to a question about his favorite aspects of the LDS Church, and his reply reminded me of how often we who have been raised in the Church (particularly those whose membership is multi-generational) take some basic, important things for granted and lose sight of how rare and special they can be to others without our background.

I am bolding the part that hit me the hardest:

1) The sense of belonging.

Being part of a "club" or family where everyone is accepted.

As an introvert, being involved in social activities, like pot-luck dinners, that I wouldn't be involved with otherwise. Knowing that I can disappear to the kitchen and do the cleaning or cooking, etc and it is encouraged and not seen as weird..

Knowing you can walk into any ward and feel at home.

2) The health code.

I come from a background of generational alcoholics, it is a pleasure to be able to go to events and know that I will not be sneered at for not drinking, knowing I will not be involved in an alcoholic fight, there will be no violence and my children will not be subjected to that. Knowing I can take my kids to church/events and my son is not at risk of an asthma attack from 2nd hand smoke.

The hope that with church teachings as back up, my children will continue my lead and break the cycle of generational dysfunction.

3) The moral grounding.

My children are seeing wholesome values in action, and it is normal behaviour (not just mum and dad saying so).

They also are taught and shown clear boundaries and limits of what is acceptable.

The focus on families in a world where they have very few school friends with both parents in the home.

I realize that none of these reasons are specifically Christ-centered, but, as a convert with a faith crisis right now, these are the things that I want to stay for. The people are kind, good and honest - and I don't want to lose that.

Competing Messages during General Conference

I had one particular thought from General Conference that I want to share here. It isn't new to me, but I think it is important at a time when different views often cause strife and bitterness: 
As often is the case, there were two talks about God and his love that showed the different views of individual leaders. One was closer to universal, long-suffering love, grace, and mercy, while the other was closer to conditional love leading to judgment dependent on obedience. (Those are broad approximations, so please don't nitpick them.) 
I know it drives some people nuts to have such different perspectives taught at General Conference, but I WANT differing views preached by the leadership, specifically because it illustrates that differing views among the membership are okay. In this case, I can focus on one and set aside the other - and the person sitting in front of me in church can do the same thing but focus on the talk I set aside. That is a good thing.  
Seriously, I LOVE the fact that not all the talks contain similar messages and that some simply don't move me - or even that some teach things with which I disagree. 
I hope none of my friends want total uniformity and homogeneity in the Church, since there is a richness in full orchestral music that is absent strictly in a melody, so we shouldn't pine for it in these talks. We should celebrate the simple fact that even our top leaders see some foundational things differently, be thankful some of them resonate more deeply within us than others, and be happy that there can be something for everyone at some point in the meetings.

Star Wars and Church Membership: Balance and Opposition

There is an interesting element of the Star Wars theology, if you will, that parallels one of my favorite verses in the Book of Mormon - and constitutes a non-doctrinal reason I am as active as I am (completely, including being a temple worker and coordinator). Interestingly, both the Star Wars element and the Book of Mormon verse tend to be simplified by most fans / members with whom I have spoken.

In Star Wars, there is a dark side and a light side - and there are subtle points when it is clear that the duality within each person is central to "balancing the force". In a real way, without the dark side there would be no true light side - and the light side eventually would become the dark side.

There is a Book of Mormon verse that says there has to be opposition in all things, but few people consider that enough to realize the implications of that all-encompassing wording. "All" things includes each person - and it also includes the LDS Church (and every other religion) itself. There MUST NEEDS be opposition in the LDS Church.

I stay, in one way, to provide balance to the LDS force - to provide opposition in all things - to keep my people diverse. However, I try to do so in a way that truly constitutes a balance - moderation - unity despite difference - charity - etc. I am NOT trying to be the one true voice that corrects and contradicts and, in the ideal end, converts and, in practical terms, silences opposing views; I am not convinced I understand everything well enough to be confident I am right and others are wrong in many cases, and I don't want my view to become the new, exclusive orthodoxy.

I just know balance and opposition in all things are harmed when I (and every other individual) is absent and/or silent - so I stay partly to help others feel comfortable expressing their own views, as well, even when I disagree with them.

Ward Boundaries and Divorce: Irreconcilable Differences vs. Tolerance and Charity

I like the use of geographic boundaries to define wards and branches. I know there are issues in individual cases, and I know it causes grief sometimes, and I have NO problem whatsoever with people attending another ward, where geographically possible, in cases where real harm is occurring . . . but I really like that the default is geographic boundaries, rather than allowing people to congregation shop.

There is an element of learned tolerance and charity in having to try to worship with people who wouldn't normally be one's associates that I don't want to lose. I don't want us to adopt the individual salvation of much of the rest of Christianity; I want to maintain the principle that Zion is the goal and that "atonement" is a communal process. Those things are jeopardized when people can change congregations for any reason whatsoever - like "irreconcilable differences" now means almost nothing in divorces. Divorces should occur when there truly are irreconcilable differences, so I'm fine with people changing wards and branches in truly exceptional circumstances, but I want it to happen only in those exceptional circumstances where there really are irreconcilable differences no matter how hard the person tries to make it work. In other words, I don't want "common problems" to morph into "irreconcilable differences" - and I am positive that would happen without the geographic boundary default.

As a rule, I don't like making policies (in anything, not just the Church) based on exceptions. I like allowing exceptions in exceptional situations, not changing the default based on exceptional situations.

The Sacrament Is Not Just about Me; It Is about Us

Thoughts on the sacrament, part 2: The meal and the garden - Aaron R. (By Common Consent)

The final two paragraphs are especially meaningful and profound. 

The Gospel Is Simple; Life in a Community Is Not

The Gospel really is simple - not easy, but simple: 

Jesus is the personification of the will of God to allow for the ultimate growth of His children (Atonement); hope for, believe in and act on the promises of the Lord, even if you can't see the results at the time (faith); try to change - both reactively to mistakes you make and proactively to become who you want to become (repent); symbolically participate in a spiritual cleansing ritual (be baptized); "receive" comfort and guidance from God (the gift of the Holy Ghost); rinse and repeat your entire life (endure to the end).

On the other hand, living life amid the necessary rules and regulations of communal living is neither simple nor easy, especially, in the imagery of Joseph B. Wirthlin, for those who play a different instrument than most others in the community and/or hear a counter-melody or harmony most others don't hear. 

Broken-Down Cars. Broken-Down Bodies. Broken-Down Faith.

A friend of mine who was going through a faith reconstruction shared the following with me.  Although it happened in the temple, it is a great reminder that we gather in "wards" because that term describes the geographic nature of our congregations (based on 19th Century political wards), but it also can describe the healing and supporting nature of the work that we are supposed to do (by creating, in practical terms, our own hospital wards at church).

I hope my friend's words help someone, somewhere, who feels, in some way, broken-down.

I went to the temple today. We started almost fifteen minutes late because of some car trouble in a family group. Other people came into the room with walkers, labored breathing and obvious problems moving around. I was thinking, "Great, this is going to go really slowly."

But suddenly it was perfect, all of us there together. Broken-down cars, broken-down bodies, and me with my broken-down faith.

Truly, that is a description of Zion.  

Leadership in Zion: Helping Create an Ideal Balance

I believe:

1) Communal sociality is a process of filtering back and forth what is best for the individual and what is best for the society.

2) Social leadership is, by definition, the position of determining where groups draw the line between the pursuit of those two ideals in very practical ways.

3) "Zion" is the idea that there is an ideal balance between the two - a condition of community (communal unity) that serves both ideals properly - where unity exists despite differences.

4) My role in creating Zion is to strive to find the type of individual balance between the two general ideals in my own, internal life and work to help others find that type of individual balance in their own, internal lives. If I am a "leader" of some sort, obviously I have more potential to help more people, but I don't see my role as "attacking" or "changing" anyone; rather, I see it as being a "helper" or "servant" of anyone and everyone.

5) Thus, all I can do is "offer" - consistently, humbly and without expectation. I can't "demand" or "command". I also must be willing to learn from everyone I'm trying to serve - and, in practical terms, sometimes that is the hardest aspect of Zion of all.

Service for the Sake of Service: We Serve Conditionally Too Often

I believe that being born again is all about being a child of God and Christ in a very personal way - and I think that happens fully when we maintain communal allegiance, support and service but find our own faith, understanding and vision within that community. We then turn around and help others find their own faith, understanding and vision and accomplish their own desires - even when they differ slightly or significantly from ours, both within and without our central religious community. It's serving simply for the sake of helping in whatever way is possible, not with an ultimate agenda in mind - other than that person's joy and peace. At the most fundamental level, it's not about baptism, church attendance or any other conditional motivation; it's being born into Jesus' ministry in some real way and helping simply to help. 

I know how unorthodox that is in the minds of some members, but it absolutely is in line with a lot of things that are taught in General Conference, for example. Elder Wirthlin, Pres. Uchtdorf, Pres.Monson and others often talked and continue to talk about service just for service's sake. Yes, we have responsibilities to our religious community and "tribe" - but we also have this over-arching theology that teaches us we are part of a global, eternal, universal religious community and family. With that foundation, our ultimate responsibility is to everyone, not the small subset who are or might become members of our Church.

Feeding Individuals and a Community Isn't Easy

My family has a history of physical issues that make it hard for us to eat meat without choking - unless we are very careful to chew it extremely well before swallowing. I haven't had that exact issue, but one of my little brothers almost died of choking on a relatively small piece of meat, and I have an aunt who choked to death at the dinner table. Thus, discussions of teaching meat vs. milk at church mean something different to me than to many members. 

I share that only to emphasize that every person has unique dietary needs and issues of some sort - some that are critical to health and continued life and some that deal only with taste and preference. For that reason, I am wary of describing anything as universally "milk" or "meat" - or insisting that "The Church" teach or not teach something specifically because it constitutes milk or meat to me or to someone else.

I believe strongly that we should be engaged in "meatier" conversations and classes as adults of God, but I also realize that there are many physical adults who still are children of God spiritually - and that, to some degree, that is true of all of us. Thus, I throw out really small portions of "meat" in most group settings carefully to see if it is digestible before putting a larger chunk on the communal platter - and I often "chew on" the meat I put out there by taking a moment to frame it honestly but carefully as something a friend once said - or something I've thought about over the years - or something an apostle once said - or some other phrasing that makes it less likely to cause someone to choke.

Finally, I stopped expecting or requiring "The Church" to feed me a long time ago and shouldered that responsibility myself. Seriously, I wasn't getting "fed" at church with what I needed for my own growth before I left Primary - so I've been feeding myself for a long, long time. I still get a really good meal quite frequently at church, in one form or another, but it usually is dessert to me - not the main course.

The Conflict between and Importance of Communal and Individual Morality

Believe it or not, the following is my attempt to provide a very short post about the nature of morality:

I think morality as a general concept (determining what is "right" and "wrong") is part and parcel of group interaction - even, in a very real way, among animals of widely varying degrees of intelligence. It is, at its most basic level, part of survival instinct. It is focused on what "is" - at the most basic level. It is focused on "how" interaction needs to occur in order to perpetuate the species and, although instinctual rather than conscious, really is "morality" at heart.

I think morality among humans, specifically, has the exact same foundation - but our ability to think outside ourselves allows us to move from the most practical, biological, survival aspect of morality to a philosophical foundation that expands from a purely group-based paradigm to include a focus on the person even, sometimes, at the expense of the group. It is focused on what "should be" - and, frankly, that transition, although important to us, is what complicates morality exponentially and makes things get really messy at times.

Finally, I see the existence of agency (the ability to think about and choose one's actions consciously, even when they conflict with the morality of one's community) as the monkey wrench in the ease with which morality can be evaluated and determined, since it is the only thing that posits the need for competing moralities - one communal and one personal that can and do conflict.

Morality is an incredibly subjective thing, but most people want it to be objective - since objective morality is SO much easier to implement and "obey". Frankly, the most extreme version of objective, communal morality we have within Mormon theology is Lucifer's plan - and I think it is important to understand that simple fact. 

I Want to Be a Mormon Christian, Not a Christian Mormon

If you look closely at multiple General Conference talks and statements over the years, I think it's obvious that the top leadership of the Church believes there is a difference between church membership and Christian discipleship. In fact, at least twice in my memory during General Conference, it was said in crystal clear terms that activity in church doesn't guarantee Christian discipleship. The issue is that many talks appear to illustrate a belief that it's hard for most people to live a Christ-centered life without also having a church-centered life - and, frankly, they probably are correct in most cases.

Christianity and church affiliation are so intertwined now, as much outside the LDS Church as inside it, that it's really hard for people of pretty much any denomination (or even "non-denominational" congregations) to separate the two - and, given the communal nature of the New Testament focus, I'm not sure the two actually can be separated properly. In a very practical way, it really is difficult to divorce being a disciple of Jesus of Nazareth from being part of a religious community - a group "following", if you will. In Jesus' ministry, it wasn't a formal "church", per se - but people absolutely left family and friends to follow him around as he preached. They formed a religious community, even if they didn't build and gather in meetinghouses of their own.


Furthermore, as I have said in other posts here, the Mormon conception of the next life is not focused on individual salvation but rather communal exaltation. 

The difficulty here, in my opinion, is not that we need to separate the two affiliations totally and make it Christian discipleship vs. church membership; rather, we need to balance the two and prioritize them so that we live Christ-centered lives within the LDS Church - not that we live church-centered lives that include Christ.

In other words, we should be Mormon Christians - not Christian Mormons.

How Do You Remain United in the Body of Christ When A Leader Abuses Power?

I have a good friend who was hurt quite badly by a pastor who initiated a harmful program and insisted that my friend help him administer it.  When my friend refused, he faced serious consequences at the practical level within his church community.

That friend asked me, after the fact, the following - and my response follows his question, with a nod to Mormon-speak for this blog:

The reality is that church leaders are just regular people. As such, sometimes they abuse their power in their leadership positions. Generally this is minimal or not a problem - however sometimes it can be extreme and even abusive.

How do you deal with this? How do you reconcile it with the command to be united in the body of Christ?

1) by recognizing and admitting exactly what you just said. There's nothing "magical", in and of itself, that changes someone who is in a position of leadership in a church - man or woman. The only thing that changes automatically is the power and influence they are able to wield - the scope of their potential unrighteous dominion.

2) by recognizing that increased responsibility pushes "the natural (wo)man" toward increased unrighteous dominion. It pushes "the unnatural (wo)man" forward to greater at-one-ment. It pushes most people who live somewhere between those extremes either or both ways.

3) by defining "unity in the body of Christ" as "doing my best to help the entire community" - and realizing that sometimes the best help I can provide is a different perspective - or a simple refusal to do something.

4) by not being a jerk about it or refusing to do anything for the person but continuing to do everything I feel I can do in good conscience and balance.

5) by going above the person's head in extreme situations, if possible - always calmly and meekly and humbly, but clearly and precisely (and pointing out that I take my commitment to sustain God and the overall church community above my commitment to any one person).

Within the structure of my own religion, if I were to go to a Stake President, for example, about a Bishop, High Priest Group Leader, EQ President, etc., I would make it crystal clear that I am doing so out of genuine concern for the Stake President, the other person and the LDS Church itself - that I believe the problem I am trying to address is serious enough to be talking with the Stake President AFTER I've tried to talk with the other person. Again, as I say a lot, tone, attitude and appearance mean a lot in situations like this. I won't contribute to someone being stomped on, but I'm not doing any stomping on or punch throwing at any point in the process.

Charity: Really Good People Can Believe Really Bad Things

I had an experience a long time ago that is a great example of why I try so hard to understand people as well as possible and not reject them, even as I reject things they say and believe. I was thinking about it again recently, and decided to post my thoughts about it here. 

I have a long-term friend, someone I admire greatly in many ways, who is a wonderful, caring person - overall. She would do anything for family and friends in order to try to help them. She has had many experiences that I accept as profound, spiritual, enlightening, etc. There is so much to love and respect about her. I really do love her dearly - but it's hard for me to be around her for any extended period of time. A recent experience with someone else brought that up in my mind again.

She is a political extremist, and her extreme is on the other side of the middle from where I am politically. She will corner people and explain, in dire terms, what is coming if her political agenda is not established - if the wrong candidate is elected (in whatever election is next, at whatever local or national level). The world isn't just falling apart; the end of all we hold dear is imminent. Frankly, I believe she is over the paranoia line in that area - and listening to her conspiracy theories is nearly unbearable for me.

I really do love her - and she really is, at heart, a kind, caring, loving, dedicated person. It's just hard to remember that in the moment as soon as she inevitably starts on a political diatribe. It's not worth answering her openly, especially since she doesn't talk in church like she does privately (as she understands that church isn't the place to discuss politics at her desired level for private conversations).

I have learned a lot from her over the years I have known her. She is intelligent and insightful in many ways.

My point is simple:

My dear friend is fully human, and I can't blame or castigate her for that. I love her as deeply as I do only because I've stuck around long enough to see, to some degree, the full person she is - even as I want to run away screaming quite often when she launches her soap box missiles. If we weren't members of the same church, I wouldn't have gotten to know her as well as I do - and that would have been a shame, even as it hasn't been easy to deal with her regularly.

I try to remember that whenever I start expecting others to be all that I would like them to be - and I try also to remember everyone who talks with me and walks away shaking their heads at my own beliefs, but who also continue to talk with me, regardless. It's easy to forget how many people there are in that group - and it's important for me to model the charity and patience so many people have shown and continue to show me.

I Value My Wife-String as Much as My Me-Kite

I like Louis L'Amour books as brain candy. They probably are my favorite guilty pleasure. Most of them have the same basic plot structure, but I like the profound insights he throws into the stories as the simple plot progresses.

One thing he says in multiple books is that leaving the eastern cities and moving west across the plains had an enormously different effect on different people. It empowered some, by freeing them of the constraints in which they lived previously; it crushed some, who couldn't handle the endless expanse and never-changing scenery; it strengthened some who had never had to care for themselves and others; it drove some crazy out of constant fear of attack and the lack of law and order.

People need what people need, and people tend to construct their lives to provide them what they need - and want.

Being open-minded to me means, in the context of L'Amour's stories, not demanding that settlers be explorers - even as the typical settler mind-set is to be wary of and restrain the explorers. Often, explorers can explore in confidence largely because they know there always will be settlers waiting to welcome, feed, praise and provide security for a season when they return from their explorations.

Remember, also:  

A kite is not just the thing that flies through the wind; it also is the string that keeps it safely grounded.

I value my wife-string as much as my me-kite.

Sunday School Lesson Recap: When Ordinances Become "Communal" and Their Real Power Is Manifest

Last Sunday was the final week to discuss "Ordinances and Covenants", so I borrowed a copy of the Church Handbook of Instructions, Book 2 - intending to highlight some of the ordinances we hadn't discussed previously and the general policies surrounding performing ordinances. (Section 20) It didn't go fully according to my plan; it turned out to be a much better discussion than I could have imagined.

I started by revisiting the foundational concepts we had discussed in the first lesson this month:

1) Ordinances are actions we perform to convey a specific meaning or message. They are symbolic and have NO power whatsoever except what we give to them. For example, if baptism was about immersion in water only, we could have people jump into a pool and call it baptism - or we could eat some cake and drink some fruit punch in the cultural hall and call it the sacrament.

2) Covenants are the actual meaning of the ordinances - meaning the power and purpose of ordinances is wrapped up in what they motivate us to promise to do and then actually do. Again, without covenants, there is no power whatsoever in ordinances - since it's not performing them that is the key but rather what we choose to become as a result of participating in them.

I then explained what I had in mind, held up the handbook and asked how many of them knew that the handbook was available to all of them online. I shouldn't have been surprised due to their ages, but most of them (whose parents almost all have prominent callings in the ward) didn't know there was a handbook that contained the official church policies and general counsel. Due to that, I took a few minutes to read through the section titles and go through how to access the handbooks online - step-by-step, so they could do so anytime the wanted.

From 20.1 (General Instructions), I showed them the part about saving ordinances needing authorization from the person who holds the keys to the performance of that ordinance (the person who is authorized to control, direct and oversee it), then we read the general format of all ordinances:

1. It should be performed in the name of Jesus Christ.
2. It should be performed by the authority of the priesthood.
3. It should be performed with any necessary procedures, such as using specified words or using consecrated oil.
4. It should be authorized by the presiding authority who holds the proper keys (normally the bishop or stake president), if necessary according to the instructions in this chapter.

I modeled what something like a baby blessing would sound like if only the minimum requirements were included ("Heavenly Father, in the name of Jesus Christ and by the authority of the priesthood, I give his child the name of Jane Doe" - perhaps with an additional, "and bless her with everything you desire to give her. Amen.") - and stressed that such a blessing would be every bit as meaningful as one that lasted for 15 minutes. We discussed the danger of allowing blessings to become about us and our oratory skills. I told them about my varying experiences with blessings - how I have participated in hundreds of blessings throughout my life, with only a handful where I can say, without doubt, that I spoke revelation directly from God. I explained that even though I couldn't say that about the other hundreds, I was glad I had participated in them in order to experience the overpowering ones.

We talked about what kind of ordinances require exact wording (e.g., baptism, the sacrament, temple ordinances, etc.) and which ones don't (e.g., all blessings, confirmation after baptism, etc.). We talked about what is necessary for someone in one ward or branch to perform an ordinance in a different location (approval from the leader in that other location) and how that decision might be made (a letter from the other Bishop, a phone call, an active temple recommend - although that last one might not be accurate, if someone had sinned egregiously after receiving it, etc.). We then read 20.1.3 about that situation, and I pointed out the use of "should" - as opposed to "must". I told them we would revisit that issue at the end of the lesson.

From 20.1.1 (Participation in Ordinances and Blessings) and 20.1.2 (Worthiness to Participate in an Ordinance or Blessing), we talked about ordinances that require a current temple recommend and the Melchizedek Priesthood (primarily the "saving ordinances") and the difference between being the voice in an ordinance (representing the church leadership) and simply participating (less strict standards, with more discretion given to the local leader). We also discussed how baptism does NOT require either the Melchizedek Priesthood or a current temple recommend, even though it is considered a saving ordinance - which means there are a LOT of fathers who may perform that ordinance for their children who might assume they can't. I told them that I hope when they are leaders of any kind that they are mindful of such situations and allow fathers to do so as much as possible.

I mentioned that, as I read the handbook, I am struck by how many policies and how much counsel HAD to have been the result of members doing really stupid things. I mentioned how much smaller the current version is than in the past, but, even now, I envision the leadership sitting down to discuss the handbook and saying:

You're kidding me! They did WHAT?! Ah, crap, now we're going to have to write a policy and give counsel about that.

At this point, the lesson took a different turn than I had expected. We read the following:

Those who participate are usually limited to a few, including priesthood leaders, close family members, and close associates such as home teachers. Inviting large numbers of family, friends, and leaders to assist in an ordinance or blessing is discouraged. When too many participate, it can become cumbersome and detract from the spirit of the ordinance. Those who perform an ordinance and those who preside are the only ones required. Others provide support and sustain the spokesman.

I asked the students why the policy is usually to limit those who participate in ordinances to "a few" people. They were a bit stumped by that, so I asked them what would happen if a large family, with lots of adult relatives (like mine), wanted to have all of those people (say 35) help bless a baby. (I used an extreme to make the point obvious.) I gave them a visual illustration of how each person would have to stand in order for all of them to reach the baby - and we spent a few minutes laughing at the possibilities. When we had stopped laughing, I pointed out that what had just happened in our classroom (laughing at the visual image) is precisely why the policy is in place - along with the desire to not have ordinances become a contest to see who has "the most righteous" posterity / family or create concern about overlooking anyone and having people be upset that they weren't asked to participate.

Somehow, that discussion led to a different discussion about what happens when an entire congregation becomes invested in an ordinance and it becomes more than an individual experience and more of a true community (group unity) event. I shared the gist of one of my favorite blog posts ever, "Ninety One Words" - about a young man with a severe stutter being asked to say the sacrament prayer. I described how, by the end of the prayer, the entire congregation was mouthing the words silently - praying for the young man to have or receive the strength he needed to get through it. I explained how the sacrament had never meant more to that congregation, since they were united in support of someone else and were inspired to consider the words themselves more carefully and deeply than had happened previously in their lives. (Please read the post. It is stunning.)

The story really touched the students, and one of them shared an experience he had witnessed in his previous ward, prior to moving to our ward. He said the missionaries had been referred to and started teaching a man who was in the hospital being treated for the effects of being severely overweight - somewhere over 500 pounds. He accepted the message and asked to be baptized, but he couldn't fit in the church's font - so the Bishop arranged to perform the ordinance at a pool in the community. About a dozen or so people got into the pool, and someone said the baptismal prayer at the edge of the pool next to the man. After the prayer, people outside the pool used a fireman's tarp (the kind that is used to catch people who jump from burning buildings) to lower the man into the pool, where the people in the pool took the tarp and allowed it to sink to the bottom so the man could be immersed - then lifted the man back out of the pool and set him and the tarp back on the edge of the pool.

We talked about how it is moments like those experiences when what too often becomes little more than rote, autopilot actions suddenly take on real, deep meaning - when necessary exceptions almost force us to see the ordinances as they are intended to be - when we become truly invested in them and realize how much they mean to those who see and feel the power of the symbolism and are determined to participate no matter the difficulty.

We were almost out of time at that point, so I simply mentioned how important it is to read the handbook carefully and notice the choice of words, especially those like "should", "must", "can", "might", "encouraged", "discouraged", "forbidden", etc. I told them that I personally read everything with an eye to the most charitable, inclusive application possible - that I would rather err on the side of inclusion and charity than on the side of exclusion and judgment. I shared the story told here (without sharing the name of the site, obviously) about someone being denied the opportunity to have his baby blessed during sacrament meeting because he wasn't a member at the time - and I pointed out that there is nothing in the handbook that says a non-member can have a baby blessed, but there also is nothing in it that says it can't be done. I told them that I believe it our Christian duty to make our decisions based on what we feel would be the best for the people involved - what we would want if it was us making the request, as long as such a request was not explicitly forbidden in the handbook. I told them that they all probably will be leaders of some sort in the Church at some point in their lives and that I hope they will read and apply the handbook policies and counsel as expansively as they can - to make as many ordinances as "communal" as possible.

There was a spirit during the last part of the lesson that I couldn't have anticipated, and I am grateful it went differently than I had planned.

Balancing Zealousness with Concern for Others

On this day of unabashed patriotism, I want to share the following that has application to that topic, as well: 

There is a fine line between zealousness and fanaticism. I think charity is the delineator of the two - and, unfortunately, people do many things "out of love" that aren't at all charitable.

I look at the Golden Rule, and I can't help but wonder how (the collective) we would feel if our non-Mormon acquaintances acted toward us the way we sometimes act towards them - or if we learned that they talk about us the way we sometimes talk about them. I look at how some people interact with their "wayward" children and wonder how they would react if their parents weren't members and interacted that same way with them (their own "wayward children").

I believe in zealousness when it is manifested in a righteous manner, but I also have to be able to look at my own actions (and the actions of others as examples) and see the difference between righteous zealousness and something else. For example, I am concerned whenever I hear or read anything like the following - which I read in a comment a couple of years ago:

(In order to be zealous,) we have to stop worrying about “the other guy” and worry about how God views us.

Frankly, I think we have to be concerned about the other guy AND about how God sees us, specifically because if there is one lesson in all of our scriptures I believe it is that "concern for the other" is absolutely central to the Gospel and mission of Jesus Christ. I agree completely that concern for how others see us can't get in the way of doing the right thing, but I also believe that "doing the right thing" without regard for "the other guy" often (and I mean very often) leads to doing the wrong thing in the name of righteousness. I don't need to use extreme examples of that principle; regular, daily examples are all around us.

I believe that being righteously zealous is not a simple thing that can be measured by a universal checklist. I need to be concerned with my own zealousness and whether my own zealousness is acceptable to God - and, for me, that absolutely must include a deep, central, strong element of how my actions in the name of God impact "the other guy" - since charity is the heart of my own measure of my own righteous zealousness.

One example to illustrate my point:

I love and admire Captain Moroni, but he was wrong - 100% dead wrong - in his chastisement of Pahoran during the war he was fighting. He didn't write that letter out of righteous zealousness; he wrote it out of frustration over seeing his soldiers die unnecessarily. (Those are his own words, not my assumption.)  He wrote it in anger - and the condemnation in it of Pahoran was unfounded. Captain Moroni was described by Mormon in the abridgment as a "perfect man", but he erred in that instance when he wrote that letter (which does not contradict Mormon's assessment of him). The letter was not charitable; it was not accurate; it was not in line with the standard articulated in D&C 121; it was not sensitive to the plight of a friend, supporter and fully righteous man; it was not a righteous judgment; it was not an example of "being moved upon by the Holy Ghost"; it was not an example of righteous zealousness.

Again, I admire Captain Moroni deeply, but I admire Pahoran even more deeply in that example - since he easily could have reacted very differently. It was Pahoran, not Captain Moroni, in that situation who "saved the day" - and he did it explicitly by remembering, in a time of great stress and distress, to "think of the other guy" and not return threat for threat. He did it by remembering the pure heart behind the mistaken accusations and not holding Moroni's mistake against him. He did it by loving the man even though the man's words must have cut him deeply. He did it by not being zealous in the traditional, stereotypical manner but by being zealous in love and meekness.

I believe in zealousness, but I also believe it is manifested differently in different situations and that, for me, at the very core, it absolutely involves "worrying about the other guy" in a very real and important way. I believe charity is the balancing agent between righteous zealousness and unrighteous fanaticism - and, if I have to choose between one extreme or the other, I try to choose to be overly charitable rather than overly fanatical.

Jesus, the Christ, and Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer: Redeeming We Misfit Toys

The Island of Misfit Toys, with all its issues, still was a haven for the toys there - and their collective charity and acceptance of another misfit eventually set them free.

Jesus was a true misfit in many, many ways - and he spent his life serving his own "kingdom of nobodies" - on an Island of Misfit Toys he intentionally and purposefully created during his ministry. Who cares if we are blind? He healed the blind. So what if we feel "dead" sometimes. He raised the dead. Who cares if we are rejected and despised by the "mainstream" religious culture of our time?  He walked and talked and healed those outside the mainstream.  What does it matter if we are sick or tired or different? He loved and blessed the sick and the tired and the different in a very special way.

I believe we are doing God's work here in mortality, in a very real and important way, when we interact with and love those who are suffering and struggling in some way - and I think if Jesus were to spend any time with members of the LDS Church in a second ministry, it would be with those who struggle the most in the Church. I really think he would spend more time outside our meetinghouses than in our Sacrament Meetings, if his first mortal ministry is any indication - and I am not disparaging our meetinghouses and Sacrament Meetings in any way by saying that. I wish badly that more of our congregations and activities were gatherings of misfits much more obviously than currently is the case. 

I really love the idea of looking for and loving those who live on their own Island of Misfit Toys (and realizing that all of us, in a real and important way, are Misfit Toys) - and my teary eyes as I type this are a testimony to that feeling.