Peace, Be Still: And There Was a Great Calm

(Before reading this post, please consider reading the last one - "They Shall Be Called the Children of God".)

In trying to understand more deeply what it means to be a peacemaker, I was struck by the way that the following account is worded:

And when they had sent away the multitude, they took him even as he was in the ship. And there were also with him other little ships.

And there arose a great storm of wind, and the waves beat into the ship, so that it was now full.

And he was in the hinder part of the ship, asleep on a pillow: and they awake him, and say unto him, Master, carest thou not that we perish?

And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. (Mark 4:36-39)

As I thought about this passage, two things jumped out at me:

1) Jesus' state prior to calming the storm;
2) The actual words used to describe the command and its effect.

Prior to this month, I have never considered something quite simple about this account. When the storm first raged, and the disciples were fearful of their safety and their very lives, Jesus was asleep. That is worth considering more deeply:

Jesus was asleep - personally at peace - as the storm raged around him and terrified those who were with him. I will return to that point at the end of this post.

"Peace, be still."

Jesus' "command", when read strictly in isolation from the actual context, doesn't sound like much of a "command". Like, "Let there be light," it is a rather benign sounding statement. However, in the Japanese translation of Genesis 1:3, the feeling is very different. "Hikari ga are" (pronounced "heekahree gah ahre") literally translates as the strictest of commands - roughly equivalent in English to "There WILL be light (because I WILL be obeyed)." With this same perspective, I can picture Jesus standing in the boat saying either of the following:

1) In a soft, gentle, soothing voice - "Peace, be still."
2) In a stern, commanding, authoritative voice, perhaps with outstretched hand - "There WILL be peace. BE STILL."

I lean toward the second picture (the command), primarily due to the statement in verse 39 that Jesus "rebuked" the wind. "Rebuke" means "sharp, stern disapproval; reproof; reprimand." Either way, the description of the result is enlightening.

Verse 39 says, "the wind ceased, and there was a great calm." In this statement, there is a distinction made between two separate effects:

1) The wind ceased;
2) There was a great calm.

As I read this passage, I conclude that there are two aspects of becoming a peacemaker in its fullest sense.

First, a peacemaker takes an active role in stopping contention or any manifestation of "storms" that threaten safety - or, in a very real sense, others' spiritual lives. Remember, this storm wasn't just a matter of danger in the distance; it was causing the water to fill the boat. In other words, the threat - the danger - was very real and imminent. This is a protective action - rebuking the winds that blow - making those winds cease, even if it takes "sharp, stern disapproval; reproof; reprimand." It is critical that a peacemaker understands meekness and mercy, as this understanding is vital to recognizing when rebuke truly is necessary - rather than simply "natural" or convenient or easy. It also is critical that she show "an increase of love . . ., lest he esteem thee to be his enemy." (D&C 121:43) She creates by her actions "stillness" - a condition where it is possible to "know that I am God". (Psalms 46:10)

Second, a peacemaker ensures that this "stillness" is experienced - is felt - as a "great calm". When true peace has been created, it is accompanied by a calmness that can be distinguished from the simple quietude that we generally associate with stillness. Jesus' rebuke of the storm did more than just establish stillness as silence; it left the disciples feeling calm. Silence is the lack of noise; it is merely a passive condition defined as a void. Silence is understood by what it is not - sound.

Calmness, on the other hand, is defined by what it is - an actual feeling - an emotion - something that fills one's soul rather than simply the absence of something else. Again, calmness is something in and of itself - an empowering gift that allows someone to remain unaffected by the storm even as it rages and even more so when it ceases. This allows one to feel "calm" even amid turmoil, and it provides "great calm" when turmoil stops.

I return now to Jesus sleeping as the storm raged around him - at peace and calm as others panicked. He possessed an internal peace, but it was his rebuking of the wind (and the subsequent removal of others' fright and replacement with stillness and calm that extended his own peace to them) that made Him (in this case) a peacemaker.

It is that condition about which I intend to write next - not what it means to be a peacemaker, but rather how one becomes a peacemaker.

They Shall Be Called the Children of God

Those who are peacemakers are promised that they will be called the children of God. The following is something I wrote about a slightly different topic for a group blog for which I write, but it struck me as I was editing it for publication in a few days that it applies to my resolution this month - to what it really means to be called a child of God. Here it is:

I have been struck for a long time by the different ways that people interpret and speak of praise, honor and glory - particularly how they use these terms to describe our relationship with God. Each has a distinct meaning, separate from the others, but they get conflated and used interchangeably all the time. First, consider the following foundational facts:

1) The word “praise” occurs in our scriptures 188 times. (Interestingly, this word appears in the D&C only three times, in the BofM less than 20 times, and in Psalms nearly half of the other times.) In every instance, it means nothing more than its standard dictionary definition: (n) - “expression of approval or admiration; commendation; laudation.” (v) - “to express approval or admiration of; commend; extol.”

2) “Honor” (”honour” in the Bible) is found 123 times - with 105 of those times being in the Bible and the other 18 times split almost evenly between the D&C and the BofM. The dictionary definitions all focus on “respect” - but the scriptural references add an element of obedience to those verses that deal with honoring God. They carry the distinct implication that those who “respect” God will submit to what he asks of them. (Much like John 14:15 - “If ye love me, keep my commandments.”) There is another fascinating implication - that of “honoring” God by “bringing honor to” Him.

3) “Glory” is far more common, as it is found 352 times throughout our canon, with “glorify” occurring 27 more times. Imo, the most interesting thing about these words is that “glorify” is used EXCLUSIVELY in reference to God and His name, but “glory” is used to describe many things - God, man, and the creations of both.

In the dictionary, “glory” is defined as: “resplendent beauty or magnificence; a state of great splendor, magnificence, or prosperity; a state of absolute happiness, gratification, contentment.” “Glorify”, on the other hand, is defined as: “to elevate or idealize; to cause to be or seem more glorious or excellent than is actually the case.” The first is understood to be a positive thing, while the second is seen as a negative thing.

Why do I go through this exercise in this way? Simply to illustrate the unique place these words hold within Mormonism - distinctly different than within most, if not all, other religious traditions and the dictionary itself. Mormonism has added something fundamental to the religious lexicon by claiming a distinctly different aspect to glorifying - and it is not a trivial addition.

When praise, honor and glory are used within orthodox Christianity, they are used to mean simply what the dictionary itself states - namely, the utmost admiration, respect, splendor and magnificence. “Giving glory to God” generally can be summarized as expressing thanks to Him and recognizing that He is so far beyond us that it is impossible to make Him “be or seem more glorious or excellent than is actually the case.” Therefore, we “glorify God” by “elevating or idealizing” Him, but we are not to “glorify” others (including ourselves) by making us “be or seem more glorious or excellent than is actually the case.”

This is the heart of the charge of blasphemy leveled against Mormonism - that in its presentation of the doctrine of exaltation and Celestial Glory, it elevates and idealizes humanity beyond what is actually the case to a state that should be reserved only for God. Since God alone is elevated above us, anything that appears to place us as equals is considered heretical - an act of “glorifying” man and not just God, as they believe the Bible so clearly states should be.

How do Mormons reconcile this dilemma? Ironically, by keeping the basic definition of praise and honor in place but changing radically the overarching (or underpinning, whichever seems more apt) principle of glory to fit more closely the differing degrees or applications in our canon - specifically the Bible.

Mormonism takes the basic concept of “glory” being applied to God and all His creation and focuses on the concept of growing through glories taught most directly in a few NT passages:

1) 2 Cor. 3:18 says, “But we all, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord.”

2) 1 Cor. 15:40-41 says, “There are also celestial bodies, and bodies terrestrial: but the glory of the celestial is one, and the glory of the terrestrial is another. There is one glory of the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another glory of the stars: for one star differeth from another star in glory.

3) John 17 contains some fascinating verses, including the following:

a) verse 4: “I have glorified thee on the earth: I have finished the work which thou gavest me to do.

b) verses 10-11: “And all mine are thine, and thine are mine; and I am glorified in them. And now I am no more in the world, but these are in the world, and I come to thee. Holy Father, keep through thine own name those whom thou hast given me, that they may be one, as we are.

4) Matthew 5:48 says, “Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.” (This verse is the foundation of a number of previous posts.)

By citing these verses and many others like them, Mormonism places “glorifying God” in a different light. It posits that “this is my work and my glory - to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man” (Moses 1:39) - in practical terms, defining the process of glorification as the accomplishment of Matthew 5:48 and John 17:11, among many others. Within all of Christianity (including Mormonism), praising, honoring and glorifying God are used to elevate and separate Him from us, but within Mormonism, His praise and honor and glory is defined as flowing from His grace and mercy in changing us to become like Him and His Son - in truly making us “perfect, even as (He) is perfect” and “one, as (He and His Son) are one”.

What separates Mormonism at the most fundamental level from the rest of Christianity is that we take these and other similar scriptures literally - and that literalness changes the very core of our view of God’s glory. We don’t praise and honor His glory; we praise and honor Him by realizing that we are His glory, unworthy though we are and everlastingly “below Him” though we also ever will be. We give glory to God, our Eternal Father, in the same way that my children give glory to me - by becoming what I hope and pray they become, NOT by telling me how wonderful I am.

I believe the following is a false dichotomy, but if I had to choose between my children praising, honoring or glorifying me (as I believe each is defined and laid out in our scriptures), I would choose glorifying every time. I can live happily without verbal expressions of praise and honor (”admiration and respect”); frankly, I don’t really care what is said nearly as much as what is done. What I really care about is what my children become - that they maximize their glory (”beauty, magnificence, splendor, [spiritual] prosperity, absolute happiness, gratification, contentment.”) If that happens, I truly will be glorified myself; if not, no praise or honor will make up for it - and my Mormon self simply can’t picture God being any different.

At its heart, that is what I believe it means to be called the children of God - and the next few posts will address who being a peacemaker leads to this wonderful designation.

Blessed are the Peacemakers

My resolution for July is to become more of a peacemaker. The actual verse from the Beatitudes is Matthew 5:9, which reads:

"Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God." I will focus on the first part (the characteristic) in this post and the second part (the reward) in another one.

It is interesting as I begin to focus on this attribute of perfection to point out that the term "peacemaker" is found only twice in our entire scriptural canon - in the two "Sermons on the Mount" we have recorded in Matthew and 3 Nephi. There are 366 instances of "peace", and some of the more instructive ones for this particular resolution include:

Isaiah 9:6 - "For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace."

(It is fascinating that this name - "Prince of Peace" - is the last title listed in a group of names that appears to be in ascending order of importance. Again, I find that fascinating, and I will have to think about that some more.)

Mark 4:39 - "And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm."

I really like the way that peace in this verse is followed by a command to be "still" - and that the result is described as "a great calm".

Revelations 12:18 - "If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men."

This verse is intriguing, because it appears to grant that there are some situations where it is not possible to live peaceably with others, but that we should strive to do so "as much as lieth in (us)".

As I begin this month's focus, I immediately think of two places where I need to work on becoming more of a peacemaker: at home, with my wife and children, and on the blogs I frequent. I also am struck by something as I think of this attribute in relation to those that come before it in the Beatitudes. It is worth considering.

To be a peacemaker requires me to step outside of my own life, if you will, and insert myself between others. Of course, part of "making peace" is establishing peace within one's own soul (reaching an internal stillness and a calmness), but to become a "perfect" peacemaker ("complete, whole, fully developed") requires me to step out of myself and mediate peace among and between the non-peaceful. It requires me to step out of a comfort zone and risk rejection by those whom I am trying to help. It means pointing out instances of arguing and fighting and bickering - and the natural man is not prone to enjoy that type of effort, even when done in meekness and mercy.

This means it will be CRITICAL in any effort to be a peacemaker for me to have internalized my earlier efforts to be more meek and more merciful, and it highlights the fact that the Beatitudes were structured on a progressively ascending scale - that one really does lead to the next, which leads to the next, which leads to perfection (completeness, wholeness, full development).

A Wonderful Thought

My friend Stephen Marsh made a statement on another blog tonight that is beautiful and profound. I want to post it here without further commentary - as one of the most concise summaries of faith I have heard in my entire life:

"(In the end) all we can hope for is for God to bring us home."

Bright Night of My Soul

My friend, Andrew, wrote a beautiful and moving post recently - "Dark Night of the Soul". In reading that post and the subsequent comments, I had an epiphany about my own experience with certainty and doubt. I have been thinking about how to explain the difference between my experience and Andrew's - and, even more interesting, the similar result from such different experiences. I will not try to summarize Andrew's post here; that would not do it proper justice. What I will post here is the epiphany that struck me as I read it and the comments about it.

I have not experienced the "dark night" Andrew describes. I have never awakened one morning feeling lost and abandoned. I have wondered often about that - about why it seemed to have "clicked" so early and completely for me - about why I could have been so "certain" of the Restored Gospel at such a young age. The epiphany I mentioned above concerns the "details" of the Gospel and the "nature" of my testimony - that I have understood and recognized from my early youth.

1) I read the Book of Mormon for the first time in First Grade as part of a reading project at school. (I chose to read it; the other kids were reading Dr. Seuss, The Berenstain Bears, etc.)
By the time I was seven, I had read the Book of Mormon and fallen in love with the way it made me feel - not the doctrine in it, per se, but the way it opened my mind and heart to some incredible feelings and impressions. I am not a "visual learner", and I don't "see" what I read in the classic sense of being able to envision it in colorful detail. I "got" the words, but more importantly I "got" the "speaking from the dust" aspect - and that was more important than the words for me.

More importantly, I recognized places where it DIDN'T say what others believed it said. Even at that age, I was a parser - and I remember thinking that lots of people in my life, including many adults and leaders, didn't really understand some of the things I was reading in the way that they actually were written. I read passages and thought, "I can understand why people think it says ________________, but it just doesn't say that."

That was a foundational recognition for me - that faithful people could read the same words and understand them differently.

2) Growing up, I remember distinctly the words and example of my father. He taught me so many lessons, but the ones that came back to me as I read Andrew's post were the ones that dealt with certainty - the ones that taught me what I could and couldn't know. My dad is not a philosopher; he hated school and struggled there; in many ways, he is average Joe Mormon; he was and is, however, incredibly insightful and brilliant in his own way. Many of my strongest "understandings" of the Gospel were shaped by what he said and how he lived, particularly when it comes to the issue of certainty and doubt.

I have no idea how many times I heard him say, "I don't know", or, "That sounds good, but we just don't know for sure," or, "I'm not sure that's how I see it," etc.

3) As early as I can remember, I have understood the Gospel to be the core, fundamental, foundational principles of God. I have understood our perspectives to be what "we see through a glass, darkly" - our best attempt to make out the details within the general outline we have been given. I have understood the focus of this life to be the process of becoming like God - of taking our fallen nature and repenting, by changing that fallen nature into an exalted ("raised") nature. I have understood that there can be certainty in that process - in the type of faith that motivates us to act in order to change (repent), to accept baptism as the symbol of that effort and to strive to be connected to God through a spiritual line (the Holy Ghost) through the grace of God, but I also have understood that everything else is just details. I have understood that there is certainty in the ideal - in the ultimate end - in the foundation principles, but I also have understood that everything we see and believe and extrapolate and conjecture and assume is subject to "further light and knowledge" - that even with more light and knowledge, we still see through our glasses, darkly.

My eiphany is that I am comfortable living in my own "dark night" that is similar in practical result as Andrew's (one that is not cut off from God but simply cut off from certainty about the details) but that came about quite differently than his did for him. I have lived there for as long as I can remember. I have never believed in the certainty that he describes prior to his own dark night, so I have never felt abandoned by its loss. My "dark night" appears "light" to me, because I have never believed I see things clearly and completely. I just see them as clearly as I am capable of seeing them - which I understand and accept as darkly. I have never been shaken by doubt of detail, because my testimony has never been founded on certainty of detail. There are things I feel completely comfortable saying I "know" for myself, but I have never felt like anyone else had to "know" anything with certainty to enjoy the fruits of the Restoration.

I return to the scripture I mentioned above - I Cor. 13:9-13. In full text, it reads:

9 For we know in part, and we prophesy in part.

10 But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.

11 When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.

12 For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.

13 And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.

I believe I know in part, and I believe our prophets prophecy in part. I believe that will change someday, but I have no idea when that will be. There was a time, prior to my first reading of the Book of Mormon, when I thought as a child - that everything was black and white and I could know it all; I put away that belief at a very early age. I believe I see through my own glass, darkly and, therefore, only in part; I believe someday I will know fully.

Verse 8 is the bridge between the characteristics of charity and the outlook charity provides. It says:

Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away.

Given this perspective, I live now with faith and hope that I will understand and know more fully on an on-going basis as my future unfolds. The greatest thing I can do in the here and now, however, is to be charitable - to obtain the characteristics in 1 Cor. 13:4-7 and allow them to grow within me and change me into the type of person who can accept both my own perceptual limitations and wherever others are in their own spiritual maturation process.

I am certain of many things, but those things are principles - not details. Radical changes in policy and even "doctrine" don't shake me, since I have never based my testimony on those things. I believe firmly and deeply in the PRINCIPLE of ongoing-revelation and charity exercised in how I view others - that what I believe now differs from what I believed as a youth and young adult - that what I believe now differs from what I will believe in the future. I believe that the charity God gave me as a youth will not fail me, even as prophecies and tongues and knowledge fail all around me. In my youth, this was an unconsciously proactive embrace of the core concept embedded in the dark night; in my adulthood, it is a light shining in darkness. I like to think of it as the extended Bright Night of My Soul.

A Chapel Entrance Plaque

I was in Middletown yesterday and had a chance to be in the church there. On the wall directly above the entrance to the chapel, there is a small plaque. It says:

"Peace - Be Still."

A Higher Way of Seeing God

I was struck by something the other day that I have been considering ever since. It is not profound, but the combination of a very common scripture (and then one more) and the effort to understand and become more pure in heart has put something into a little different perspective for me.

The Book of Mormon includes the following statement from Alma, the High Priest, to Korihor, the professed atheist :

"The scriptures are laid before thee, yea, and all things denote there is a God; yea, even the earth, and all things that are upon the face of it, yea, and its motion, yea, and also all the planets which move in their regular form do witness that there is a Supreme Creator." (Alma 30:44)

Alma lays out both a scientific and mathematical argument in this verse - speaking of the complexity of the creation and its intricate, "regular" operation as proof that God exists. In essence, he says, "This could not be without a God to make it be."

This seems simple to many people - that the creation itself, seen as encompassing all of which we are aware, testifies of a Supreme Creator. How is it NOT self-apparent to all? Why can some people look around - or even study the intricacies of molecular biology and string theory and quantum physics and other astounding modern discoveries - and NOT see that it simply can't be the result of random mutation from an origin that still is unfathomable to scientists? Why can these people not understand this, even when many of them are very good, moral people? We haven't even scratched the surface of it all, and yet some can't recognize it as a sign of a creator. WHY?

"For the natural man is an enemy to God, and has been from the fall of Adam, and will be, forever and ever, unless he yields to the enticings of the Holy Spirit, and putteth off the natural man and becometh a saint through the atonement of Christ the Lord, and becometh as a child, submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon him, even as a child doth submit to his father."

What struck me is that there is an element of "they shall see God" in one's ability to recognize the hand of God in His creations, but that ability is contingent on "yielding to the enticings of the Holy Spirit" - to having a heart purified by that Holy Spirit. What just hit me this instant, and is changing how this post evolves as I type, is that it is relatively easy - with even a small and comparatively weak connection to the Spirit - to see the grandeur of the universal creation and be humbled into a recognition of God in that creation. It is more difficult to rise above the natural man and see God in His most inspiring creation - His children.

From both a religious and evolutionary perspective, we are the height of creation - but we also carry within us its depth. We are god and devil in very practical terms, and, while it is easy for nearly everyone to see the fallen man (the chasm that separates us from God), it is very hard for many to recognize the embryonic child within that fallen man (the tie that will be bound in heaven). It is easy to see the caterpillar, but it is very difficult to see the butterfly within that caterpillar when it still is a caterpillar.

One of the most amazing things that happens when our hearts are purified by the power of the Holy Ghost is that, to some degree or another, we glimpse the inner butterflies around us while they still are limited by their caterpillar exteriors - and, in glimpsing those butterflies, we suddenly, in a very real and powerful way, begin to see God.

Happy Anniversary, My Beloved Mi-chan

There is a beautiful anniversary tribute at the following link:

To My Wife

I met my wife 26 years ago today - June 14, 1982. I was 16; she was 15. I felt that she was my "split-apart" within two days of meeting her - and that was something I never expected or believed could happen. It was exactly like re-establishing a relationship with a best friend you haven't seen for years. I knew within a week that I would marry her - no doubts whatsoever. Once she turned 16, I never dated anyone else. We were engaged prior to my mission and her senior year in high school - and I mean a real engagement with an actual engagement ring. We married less than 2 months after I returned from Japan - 21 1/2 years ago.

We have never fought - truly fought; we have never yelled at each other; we have disagreed and had to work through disappointment and hurt feelings, but there hasn't been one moment in the last 21 years when I questioned whether or not we would be together forever - whether or not I wanted to stay with her. Not once, since that would mean losing half of who I am.

Literally, she is the half that makes me whole - the heaven I also aspire to achieve.

I posted something months ago - one of the first posts on my then new blog. If you want to read the entire thing, here is the link. (Sleep is Over-Rated) The most relevant paragraph for this thread is the following:

Eternal marriage and family mean just a little more to me at this moment, since I have caught a tiny glimpse of isolated immortality, living as half the whole she and I are meant to be. If I can’t handle each night we are apart, I can’t fathom living endlessly without her – feeling alone in a vast cosmos – sleeping in a great and spacious hotel – forever, fitfully alone. I want to live on with my arm around her – in a universe surrounded by our children – even if that means I only get a little edge of it as my own and never get enough sleep.

More Thoughts on Repentance

Further thoughts on "A Fresh View" of Repentance: (Please read the original post if you don't remember the basic foundational premise.)

• This approach focuses specifically on acquiring the characteristics outlined by Jesus (and the apostles and prophets) as the means of changing our nature. I know Christian theologians have spoken of this in general terms, but the “practical motivation” for Mormons is literally the growth necessary to become like God. It’s not “simply” an emulative process of praise; it’s a developmental process of receiving His true glory.

  Based on my own study and discussions with Protestant friends over the years, I suspect many of them (and especially their ministers) would find this approach blasphemous - since it says there is a way for our own decisions and actions to play a large part in transforming us into gods. My response is that such an approach is totally consistent with the Bible admonitions and is, in fact, the central message of the Bible, but they don’t see it that way - at all.

  I DO AGREE, however, that the terminology I use sounds quite familiar to Protestants - more so than to many Mormons who were raised with the “steps of repentance”. I don’t disagree at all with the idea behind the steps approach; I simply believe that most of those steps happen almost simultaneously - so focusing on them one-by-one sometimes ends up feeling artificial and forced - and that it usually makes the process much, much longer than it needs to be in order to reach the final “step”. The “rethinking” part really is just focusing on the classic “last step” right from the start - **being PROACTIVE in the process of change rather than REACTIVE to the occurrence of sin**. I believe developing the characteristics of godhood will eliminate future sin from our lives in ways that reactively working through a 12-step program simply can’t do.

  In other words, “repentance” in this approach means change of NATURE, not just change of ACTION - and that really is a “fresh view” (as worded in the Bible Dictionary).
  

• Let me make this clear: I should reword the post to make it clear that there is a place for the “steps” version of repentance - particularly when we are discussing sins that have inflicted real harm on others and that have become habitualized. If someone truly is like an alcoholic (addict) and needs the more structured “program”, I cannot deny the power of a 12-step program. Those who are not like alcoholics (addicts) in this regard, however, generally feel out of place in such meetings, where public confession and sponsorship are so critical.
  

• “In a general sense, I don’t think anyone can ever fully repent in this life (”total transformation”).” [comment by a friend of mine]
  

  I used to think so, but I’m not so sure anymore. I wish I had started this process in my childhood, since that would have given me multiple decades to work on it in this manner. I have a LONG way to go, but I can say honestly that I believe I have progressed more in this regard in the last 5 months than in the 10-15 years prior to this year. It is amazing what happens when you really focus on one characteristic intensely - even if it is only for a month at a time, like it has been in my resolution. I really look forward to continuing this effort.

  I am beginning to view repentance on a characteristic-by-characteristic basis - that, with real prayer, study and sincere effort, I really can become perfectly (completely and wholly) poor in spirit, and meek, and merciful, etc. Perhaps I will never reach “total perfection” (”full repentance”) in this life, but I am less sure it is impossible than I was last year. Can I ever become “mistake-free”? I doubt it, but that’s not the pure definition of “perfect” in the first place, since the Atonement covers our transgressions wrought by the Fall - along with the mistakes caused by it.

  I’m beginning to believe that Matthew 5:48 is more than just a nice platitude - a worthy goal for which to strive. I’m beginning to wonder if it really is an attainable commandment.
  

** I think the "traditional version" shouldn't be the default we teach for all from the earliest years of their lives. As I've said, I have no problem with the "details" of that approach; my post is more about realizing that we can "repent" (change) in a very real and empowering way even when we aren't out there committing egregious sins - IF we redefine repentance to what it says in our scriptures - "change" from the "natural man" to the "Christ-like man" that is described in the Sermon on the Mount (and other places). Suppression says, essentially, that I will be a more controlled version of me; replacement says, essentially, that I will become someone new. That should be the default we teach, with the "steps version" reserved for those who need that type of checklist to follow.

Let me give you a sales analogy:

When I was a sales manager, one of the most difficult challenges I faced when training salespeople was getting them to move past the strict formula of identifying the steps of the sales cycle (the traditional pipeline progression that moved a prospect along an established line from 10% to 100%) to the point where they could realize that many people are ready to jump straight to 40-60% after the first meeting - and 100% very quickly after that. They were ready to make an immediate change, and it was OK to go ahead and have them "forsake their previous mistakes" by changing their actions immediately - rather than have to force them step-by-step through the "classic", generalized sales cycle. I have seen more sales lost in a normally long sales cycle by salespeople who moved too slowly and cautiously than by just about any other pattern. The key is NOT to force them to square one then through each and every step, but rather to identify where they actually are and move them forward to change from there.

(There is a missionary analogy in there, but I will skip it here.)

Likewise, most school districts that didn't buy from us chose to do that NOT because they didn't have the financial ability but rather because they didn't have the political ability to focus on identified best practices and make the instructional and spending changes necessary to implement what we were selling. Rather, they were stuck in the mire of trying to change their results while continuing to perform the same activities - by applying more pressure on their teachers and administrators to do what they already were doing better. They were trying to suppress the problem within their current system, rather than building an environment more conducive to learning - especially by applying new technologies and teaching methods that would have eliminated multiple educational problems simultaneously.

I know this is not a perfect analogy, but it highlights the same basic point: That suppression rarely works long-term for things that have not reached the level of deeply embedded addictions (where suppression might be the only option), and the constant need for suppression often brings resignation and giving up on one's self - especially when each occurrence is seen as "sin" or "failure".

Purity of Heart

Matthew 5:8: "Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God."

Being "pure in heart" is an interesting concept, since it includes not only an attribute (purity) but also a "location" (the heart).

Moroni 9:6 says:

"O then ye unbelieving, turn ye unto the Lord; cry mightily unto the Father in the name of Jesus, that perhaps ye may be found spotless, PURE, fair, and white, having been cleansed by the blood of the Lamb, at that great and last day." (It is worth pointing out here that each of those adjectives appear to be synonyms - that "white" does not denote an actual color, but rather the "absence" of stain.)

In all the scriptural passages I have found, purity deals exclusively with a condition of spotlessness - or cleanliness - or lack of stain. Initially, that seems easy to understand, as it appears at first blush to say nothing more than "sinlessness" - since sins generally are understood to be spiritual stains. However, nothing I read as I perused the Topical Guide and the scriptures listed there led me to look at it that way. The verse does NOT say, "Blessed are the pure - in every way imaginable." It says, "Blessed are the pure - in heart."

So what? Why does that matter?

It matters because of what the "heart" appears to mean. As I read the passages dealing with our hearts, a thought struck me.

Our physical hearts and brains are the source of our physical life. People are considered medically dead when one of two things happens: either their heart stops beating or their brainwaves cease. The brain controls the nerves that allow us to process information and to feel pain - the manifestation of threats to our bodies. On the other hand, our hearts control the flow of blood throughout our bodies, and it is our blood that keeps the rest of our bodies from decaying, rotting, becoming tainted and "impure" - or that spreads infection and disease and eventual death. A healthy brain keeps us "engaged" in life and, through the recognition of pain, able to feel things that threaten our health; a healthy heart keeps us able to function at the best of our capabilities, without the draining result of impurities.

Ever since I can remember, I have equated our heart in these passages simply to our spirit and being pure in spirit as repenting and keeping our spirits clean. It just seemed to make sense, but as I have thought about it for this resolution, I wonder if that is all there is to being "pure in heart". I think perhaps it is, but how do we gain this purity? Is it just a case of eliminating stains from our spirits by exertion of our will? I wonder, perhaps, if being pure in heart means something more. I wonder if it is tied directly to the fresh view of repentance discussed here.

What is the equivalent of blood in our soul? What is it that can course through us and keep us pure - or taint us and make us rot spiritually? I think it might be a connection (or lack thereof) to the Spirit of God manifest to us through the Holy Ghost - "spirit" in a way, but not just OUR individual spirits that joined our mortal bodies to create our unique souls. I read the allegories and visions in our scriptures that constantly describe fruit (the Tree of Life, the allegory of the vineyard, the True Vine, "by their fruits shall ye know them", etc.), and I see the similarity between "blood" and "sap". Just as sap does not keep any tree pure or alive or vital when it is removed from the tree, blood also does not provide purity when it is removed from the body. It can be stored and injected when necessary, but, while it sits isolated from the body, it does no good.

Our spirits, likewise, do us no good if they are isolated from the Holy Ghost. We are taught that the Holy Ghost is a cleanser (e.g., Moroni 6:4) - a purifier. In this context, it appears that we cannot purify ourselves; that we must be purified by regular exposure to the Holy Ghost. (I think this reinforces the alternate view of repentance I described in an earlier post - "A Fresh View of Repentance".) Also, it is when our hearts are connected to the true vine that they are able to bring forth fruit meet for repentance (John 14:1-5; Alma 13:13) - which leads to baptism, which leads to receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost, which leads to the companionship of the Holy Ghost, which leads to an infusion of the Spirit of God, which leads to an enlivening connection to God, which leads to "doing the will of God", which leads to becoming like God, which leads to seeing God - not only eventually in the next life, but in ourselves as we become more like Him.

In the end, as I John 3:2 states:

"Beloved, now are we the sons [and daughters] of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be: but we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is." Being connected to God through the Holy Ghost will allow us to do more than see Him "in all that is around us;" it literally will allow us to see Him "as He is".

So, in summary, becoming pure in heart means being connected to the cleansing power of the Holy Ghost - and the result of that purity is the ability to see God's will for us and literally, in one way or another and in this life or another, see God as He is. The key, as stated at the beginning of this post, is to pray diligently to be cleansed and hearken (hear and follow) unto the promptings of the Holy Ghost at all times - to repent by becoming more and more like Him as we go through life.

My next post will deal with learning to recognize those promptings in order to experience the cleansing that leads to the purity that allows us to see God.