Sunday, April 27, 2008
What Satisfies Hunger & Thirst?
In the Old Testament, "fruits" generally is used simply to mean the food that grows from the vine or tree. There are a few instances where there is an allusion to actions, but they are rare. In the rest of our canon, with rare exceptions, "fruits" and "works" both deal explicitly with actions. It is the difference in the actions that is instructive.
The following are a few examples that illustrate this difference:
3 Nephi 27:24 - "Write the works of this people, which shall be, even as hath been written, of that which hath been." (Obviously, referring strictly to actions, regardless of the nature of those actions)
Alma 37:34 - "Teach them to never be weary of good works, but to be meek and lowly in heart; for such shall find rest to their souls." ("Works" needs a qualifier - "good".)
Psalms 107:8 - "Oh that men would praise the Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the children of men!" (Again, needing a qualifier - "wonderful".)
John 15:4-5 - "Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, except it abide in the vine; no more can ye, except ye abide in me. I am the vine, ye are the branches: He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit: for without me ye can do nothing." (Fruit is something that is born or brought forth from a tree or vine.)
3 Nephi 14:17 - "Even so every good tree bringeth forth good fruit; but a corrupt tree bringeth forth evil fruit." (Again, fruit is the product of the tree, and it is the tree that determines whether the fruit is good or evil.)
It is apparent from these verses, and hundreds of others that I might have quoted, that, while "works" and "fruit" both refer to our actions, one focuses strictly on those actions ("works") and the other focuses primarily on the source of those actions ("fruit"). The distinction is not always made clear when discussing works, but it is explicit in nearly all references to fruit.
My conclusion from this comparison? That "works" are what we do - that what we do is important - that we are judged according to what we do. However, that judgment is NOT simply about what we do, as if we could construct a checklist of Do's and Dont's and be judged as "righteous" based on how well we follow our checklist. Certainly, there are some things that are required of all (baptism, basic adherence to the commandments, etc.), but we will be judged primarily on whether or not our "works" are produced by a real connection to a good tree or vine - whether or not they are the result of the nurture of the Spirit - whether or not they are the works that God desires of each of us individually. That final point is the key, imo.
This means that the full body of my works must be distinguishable from the full body of anyone else's works - that I can't produce gala apples just because someone else produces them - that my apples can be corrupt if God wants me to produce oranges or pears (or pears during one stage of my life, cherries during another and grapes in a later stage). Just as importantly, if I love apples and dislike apricots, I must be willing to learn to produce apricots if He requests it of me.
Works provide exercise, but only divine works (fruits) provide the sustenance that feeds my soul and satisfies my hunger and thirst.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Righteousness: "Being a Good Example" is Not Enough
Years ago, when I was serving as the Ward Mission Leader, it struck me one day that there are members who say the most important thing they can do to share the Gospel is to be a good example. I believe these people are missing something - a fundamental understanding of the world around them that is absolutely critical to sharing the Gospel.
Of course, it is vital to be living the Gospel to the best of our abilities in order to share it. Of course, living the Gospel is of paramount importance - and, if one thing is to be done, living it is better than talking about it. However, the idea that “just being a good example” is enough to “share the Gospel” and attract others to the Church is fundamentally flawed and actually dangerous, since it misses two critical realities of this life.
1) There are numerous people of all religions and denominations who live their lives in accordance with the basic principles of the Gospel - whose lives are examples of true Christian discipleship in every objective measure, even within non-Christian religions. Many of these people are closer to being truly Christ-like than I am. Joining them is important, but it does NOTHING to distinguish us from them - especially if . . .
2) People generally have no idea what religion someone else is unless there are obvious outward signs or that someone tells them. In my area, for example, if I am a wonderful example of Christian discipleship, most others will assume correctly that I am Christian - but not one of them (OK, maybe one or two) will assume I am Mormon. In fact, the vast majority probably will assume I am not Mormon, due to their misconceptions about the Church. So, in a very real and powerful way, my silent example of Christian discipleship actually will reinforce their negative view of Mormonism and harm the Church.
This is one case where “living the Gospel” cannot be divorced from openly proclaiming our membership in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It is important to be a good example, but that example must include “opening our mouths” and including our allegiance to the Restored Gospel of Jesus Christ. We cannot be just another example of spirituality; we actually must share what we have in order to be righteous ("right with God").
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
"Righteousness" vs. "Spirituality"
My search of the scriptures was incredibly instructive. (Have I said I love our on-line scriptures with the search option?) "Righteous" had 214 references in our canon; "spiritual" was listed 45 times. That was interesting. However, "righteousness" (the actual result of being righteous) appears in our canon 274 times, while "spirituality" (the actual result of being spiritual) appears a grand total of . . . . . . . 0 times. Nada; not once; zero; nil; never. That alone told me something profound.
When I looked up "spirituality" in the dictionary, the most interesting and comprehensive definition was, "of, relating to, consisting of, or having the nature of spirit; not tangible or material". In other words, to "be spiritual" means to be focused on the spirit - and, by extension, away from the body.
"Righteous", on the other hand, is defined as "characterized by or proceeding from accepted standards of morality or justice". In other words, to "be righteous" means to be "right with or living in accordance with proper standards **of action, not thought**" - which implies actions that, of necessity, are accomplished by the soul - the connected and united body and spirit.
The thought that hit me was that there is a real difference between being "spiritual" and being "righteous". There is an even bigger difference between pursuing "spirituality" and striving for "righteousness". If I have to choose between one or the other, I need to choose righteousness as the object of my hunger and thirst. Spirituality can be a motivating factor in pursuing a connection to the Holy Spirit, but it alone cannot produce a perfect (complete and whole) life lived in harmony with God's standards for all His children. Again, we are not commanded to seek spirituality as an end goal - to hunger and thirst after it. Why is that?
In a very real way, "spirituality", alone and isolated, is selfish, inwardly focused, susceptible to gluttony (constant spiritual feeding with no service to burn away spiritual calories), insular, and not inherently active or giving. It is understanding without application; it is the spirit divorced from the body; it is belief without action; in a way, it is like faith without works. Furthermore, if pursued exclusively, it can lead to a hermit-like existence away from the world - like a monk sequestered in a monastery living a life of isolated introspection - doing no bad, but also doing no good - never finding completeness and wholeness.
On the other hand, "righteousness" is selfless, focused on actions, high spiritual energy consuming, service-oriented, producing fruits that can feed one's self and others and bring the Holy Ghost to replenish personal spirituality. "Righteousness" is the physical application of true "spirituality" - the "proof" of real faith - and the difference between the "fruits of the Spirit" and the "works of man". (The last comparison is the topic of my next post.)
No wonder the command is NOT to hunger and thirst after spirituality, but instead to hunger and thirst after righteousness. In fact, what hits me as I type this is that righteousness can be phrased as "being right with God". That is a good way of describing the effect of God's grace - since it is God's grace that allows "being right" to mean being as complete and whole as one can be at any given point on the path that leads eventually to becoming truly complete and whole. One can be "righteous" all along that path, all the while hungering and thirsting after perfect righteousness.
That is a noble pursuit, worthy of our hunger and thirst.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
For What Do I Hunger and Thirst?
The core Josephism to which I cling is: "I teach them correct PRINCIPLES and let them govern themselves." "Principles" is not equivalent to "doctrines" or "intellectual understandings". That's important to me.
When it comes down to it, I base my core principles on three main statements of Jesus:
"Be ye therefore perfect," (Matt. 5:48) - "Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them." (Matt. 7:20) - "Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven; but he that doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven." (Matt. 7:21) -- (basically, the entire Sermon on the Mount, but especially those three verses)
When push comes to shove, I don't give a rat's hairy hindquarters exactly what someone says they believe - only what they DO and what they are BECOMING. If they teach Buddhism or if they claim atheism - I don't care one bit. I really don't, as long as they are doing the will of the Father and becoming perfected - and I believe religious denomination has RELATIVELY LITTLE to do with that pursuit.
To be clear and not misunderstood, I believe STRONGLY in the Restoration of the Gospel (the "Good News") - and that what constitutes the "Good News" is exactly what separates us from other denominations. I have served willingly in a Stake Mission Presidency and as Ward Mission Leader, and I am committed to the principle of sharing the Gospel with those who will listen. I believe deeply in the power of godliness mentioned in JSH 1:19 - and in the description of Christianity at the time as "apostate". However, I also believe (given our deeply embedded theology of grace) that perhaps the only over-riding, absolutely necessary, truly unique reason for the restoration of the CHURCH is to establish once again an organizational institution in which the "ordinance orthodoxy" can be practiced - explicitly so that the Buddhist and atheist can be exalted for their sincere efforts to be "just men made perfect". That is SUCH a more empowering, expansive vision of grace than anything that is taught in Christianity at large that I am baffled by those who claim we don't teach grace.
We teach that man will not be punished for Adam's transgression, and if that belief is to have ANY meaning whatsoever, it HAS to be established on such a principle of shockingly liberal grace. "I Stand All Amazed" is my favorite hymn, and it includes the following words to OPEN the hymn:
"I stand all amazed at the love Jesus offers me - **confused** at the grace that so **fully** he proffers me."
From my first post on grace here on this blog, I will excerpt the following:
A very insightful friend recently described the process of "taking my yoke upon you" as feeling the purity and power of His sinlessness. I love that construct, but I would add the following: Understanding and truly accepting God's grace occurs when you realize that all of your inherited weaknesses (your temper, your judgmental nature, your fatigue, your lack of self-worth, your never-ending battles with whatever drives you crazy) - everything that keeps you from becoming who you desperately want to become - has been bought and paid for already. He fought that fight for you, and He won. Yes, you were born with things that keep you from being perfect, but He paid for those things - meaning that you truly can take His yoke upon you and walk confidently at His side as a brother or sister with the same eternal potential. It occurs when you realize that, because of the grace that so fully He proffers you, you aren't required to pay for those things; rather, you are freed to pursue those qualities and characteristics you want to acquire to become perfect (whole and complete) - regardless of the tangible outcome of that effort. Understanding this truth makes you free in a very real way. Repentance becomes an exciting, forward looking progression toward wholeness, rather than a depressing, backward-looking, guilt-inducing attempt to beat the bad out of you and never again make any mistakes. Bad habits and painful characteristics will disappear as they are replaced by good ones, not as they are "subdued and repressed by sheer force of will."
I believe an understanding of grace is fully realized when one stops fighting God's grace - when he realizes that all God wants is his willing mind and heart - when he quits worrying about his individual worthiness and starts focusing on his contribution to communal unity - when he simply lays it all at His feet and says, in essence, "I know you understand my weakness; I know you know my struggles and pains; I know you know how I feel about myself; I know you love me and have bought me, anyway. From now on, I will trust your promise and, despite my continuing frustration and my continuing weakness and my continuing failures, I will bounce back each time and continue to grow. I will not despair; I will accept my weakness and imperfection and failure, knowing you don't care, because you love me, anyway. I will get back up each time I am knocked down and continue to walk toward you, until you embrace me and say, 'Well done, thou good and faithful servant' - knowing I don't deserve it and being eternally grateful for the grace that so fully you proffered me."
Why do I share that in this context? It is to say that, while I enjoy the intellectual stimulation I find in the Bloggernacle (LDS-focused blogs), it does not define my discipleship. That is defined by my realization that I am no better in God's eyes than any other child, and that, no matter how my brain defines my doctrinal understanding, all he wants is my love and obedience - in order to take my ugly caterpillar and make it the butterfly it can become. He wants me to understand and know him, but He cares much more that I love and obey Him according to what I feel I understand or know - even if I don't yet understand or know Him fully. My "faithful effort" (actions done despite things not seen) is MUCH more important than waiting to act until I see "face-to-face".
I engage in internet conversations specifically to find ways to hone my discipleship - to plumb the depths of others' understanding to find new ways to bring me closer to my Father. I bristle occasionally when others beat on each other, because that is opposed to the outcome for which I yearn - because it is one of the only things, if not THE only thing, that makes our Father weep. (seeing His children reviling and hurting each other)
Jesus said, "Come unto me all ye that labor, and I will give you rest." He didn't say he would give them heartburn or scorn - or intellectual superiority; he promised rest. That's what I long for in the discussions in which I engage - a place of refuge and rest, where I can drink deeply from the cup of perspective and insight - no matter the theological or denominational affiliation of those with whom I converse. I don't want to fight and argue; I want to share and sup. That is the sustenance for which I hunger and thirst - the soothing sips of spirituality that restore and reaffirm my resolve for righteousness. I don't hunger and thirst after insight for itself; I pursue it for the way it will help me live righteously - to be filled with the Holy Ghost - to do the will of my Father - to bring forth fruits meet for repentance - to become therefore perfected (whole and complete).
Everything else is meaningless if it isn't involved in getting there.
Sunday, April 6, 2008
I Thank Thee, O God, For Our Prophets
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Managing Hunger and Thirst
As I said in my last post, feeling hunger and thirst has one, and only one, purpose - to prompt the one who is hungry and thirsty to eat in order to quench that hunger and thirst, thus protecting the body from the damage that inevitably occurs from lack of nourishment. Thus, we feel hunger and thirst when we are in need of physical nourishment and are at risk of physical harm. As I was considering that (what hunger and thirst really are), I was struck by the correlation between how similar a good physical diet and a good spiritual diet are - and how wise the counsel is that we receive from our prophets and apostles.
Nutritionists teach that the absolute best way to construct a diet is to eat small meals throughout the day - as often as every 2-3 hours - a little food each time - just enough to "take the edge off" and satisfy the hunger and thirst that is felt as we burn away the calories (nutritional energy) provided by our food. In other words, the best way to manage food is to eat just enough to make the hunger and thirst go away (to replenish our physical energy), then repeat that process each time hunger and thirst is felt (when that physical energy is used). Obviously, that is not possible for most people in the course of their daily lives, so a good compromise is to eat three times daily - in the morning, around Noon and in the evening.
Other patterns of diet are not as healthy, since they ignore the warnings signs (hunger and thirst) and procrastinate the alleviation of those signs. For example, a "feast and famine" approach is unhealthy, as it does not provide steady nourishment (along with a host of other issues), while extreme diets might produce immediate and dramatic weight loss but rarely are sustainable, since they are incapable of establishing nutritional habits, and often cause problems with organs that are overtaxed by too much and then too little nourishment. Often, once the initial weight loss is achieved, old habits return - creating a yo-yo effect with weight control, which brings its own set of issues and complications (both physical and emotional). The effects of binging and purging are obvious and destructive.
There is one other habit that deserves to be considered: gluttony. Gluttony is partaking in excess, in this case going beyond dietary need and wrecking the proper balance that produces optimum health - and it generally is accompanied by a lack of proper exercise, through which excess calories (nutritional energy) are burned away. When gluttony is practiced to an extreme degree, morbid obesity creates all kinds of health issues. It is an incredibly destructive dietary practice, and it is available only to those who have access to a surplus of food. In a very real way, it is a case of selfishness, since it consumes food unneeded by the consumer and takes that food away from others who actually need it.
It is interesting to compare this to the advice and counsel we have received for feeding ourselves spiritually. The general forms of spiritual nourishment are fasting, prayer, scripture study and pondering/contemplation. The counsel is and always has been to fast at least monthly (and more often whenever necessary), pray at least morning and night and at various other times when appropriate (and keep a prayer in the heart always), read the scriptures at least daily, and ponder/contemplate the things of God always. This creates a situation in which you are fed spiritually continually, where there is some form of spiritual nourishment occurring at the very moment it is needed. There is no feasting and famine - no "extreme diet" - no binging and purging - just a steady stream of nourishment that maintains an optimum state of spiritual health.
There also is no gluttony in this approach, as the constant and daily aspects of spiritual nourishment should be undertaken within the context of our other responsibilities of life. Caring for our families includes time in "occupational" pursuits (outside of or inside the home) and recreational activities; we set aside time for the development of talents; we engage in the service of others; etc. This allows us to "burn away" our excess spiritual energy, tone and strengthen our spirits, and create a properly balanced soul.
I have seen the effects of spiritual gluttony in the lives of some people I love deeply - people I know are good, caring, loving, spiritual individuals. They are good people at heart, but the inordinate amount of time they spend involved in individual spiritual activities reduces the amount of time they have available to spend with family and friends, thus reducing the amount of "spiritual energy and nourishment" they are able to "burn away" to provide spiritual light and heat and nourishment and energy for others. Just as with physical gluttony, it removes spiritual nutrition from others, lessening their opportunity for spiritual nourishment. In some cases, it leads those they love the most to assume that they are not loved as much as the pursuit of spiritual nourishment - creating, in one example I have seen, the impression that dead people (temple work) are more important than live people (family and friends and neighbors).
It is important as we hunger and thirst after righteousness that we do so in a proper manner - feeding our spirits like we should feed our physical bodies - creating real balance in the nourishment of our soul.
My next post will be about the implications of hungering and thirsting after "righteousness" (as opposed to "spirituality") and how that pursuit leads to being filled with the Holy Ghost.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Hunger and Thirst After Righteousness
As I thought about this goal throughout the day, the very first thing that hit me - hard - was how little I think about hunger and thirst. I have experienced relative hunger and thirst in my life (more thirst than hunger), but I have not been desperate for food or drink to the point of concern at any point in my life. I was raised poor, but we never missed meals. My entire life has been just comfortable enough to allow me to be a bit picky - like having the option to choose not to eat or to tell my kids to eat sandwiches or cereal if they don't want to eat what we have prepared. For a few years, I traveled with a company expense account - allowing me to acquire a taste for fine dining in cities across the country. I am somewhat overweight, and part of that simply is because I love food.
In other words, I'm not sure I ever have "hungered and thirsted after" food in a real, powerful, physical sense except as a baby - at least not in my memory. Whenever I feel even a little hungry or thirsty, I am able to satisfy that feeling very quickly and with minimal effort. That was an interesting insight - something I simply haven't contemplated before today.
I wondered how I can learn to hunger and thirst after righteousness when I really don't know what it feels like to hunger and thirst - certainly not in the same way that those who first heard Jesus' original statement would have understood it - certainly not in the same way that others in this day and age understand it. I think a central part of this month's focus for me will include some extended fasting, since that is the only way available for me to experience real, powerful hunger and thirst.
Next, I did the uniquely Mormon thing and considered the Book of Mormon version of the verse in question. 3 Nephi 12:6 repeats Matthew 5:6, with a modified ending. It says:
"And blessed are all they who do hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled with the Holy Ghost."
Feeling hunger and thirst has one, and only one, purpose - to prompt the one who is hungry and thirsty to eat in order to quench that hunger and thirst, thus protecting the body from the damage that inevitably occurs from lack of nourishment. Thus, we feel hunger and thirst when we are in need of physical nourishment and are at risk of physical harm. There is a deep irony - an apparent contradiction - in translating that to our spiritual health, since I am not about to pray for a state of spiritual starvation in order to understand and appreciate better being spiritually nourished. Fasting can induce physical hunger and thirst by depriving the body of food and water, but how can I induce spiritual hunger and thirst without depriving my spirit of the influence and presence of the Holy Ghost - something I simply do not want to do?
Perhaps fasting will accomplish this to some degree by helping me see what it feels like truly to be hungry and thirsty, thus emphasizing more clearly and understandably the spiritual condition I want to avoid - by making the "threat" of losing the Spirit more real to me as something I want to avoid at all costs. I'm not quite sure of this lesson, so I will be thinking more about it throughout the month.
I then thought of Alma 32:27, which says:
"But behold, if ye will awake and arouse your faculties, even to an experiment upon my words, and exercise a particle of faith, yea, even if ye can no more than desire to believe, let this desire work in you, even until ye believe in a manner that ye can give place for a portion of my words."
Maybe my fasting and prayer and pondering will increase my desire to believe and understand, and maybe letting that desire work in me will produce an even greater desire - a true longing similar to what it feels like to hunger and thirst.
Finally, the footnote for "desire" in this verse references being "teachable" - which generally is synonymous with humility - which is an aspect of being poor in spirit. Perhaps, and this thought struck me just now as I was writing this post, it takes a recognition of one's nothingness before God - one's spiritual poverty and inability to feed one's self sufficiently - to truly experience spiritual hunger and thirst as commanded by Jesus. Maybe being poor in spirit and meek are necessary precursors to being filled with the Holy Ghost, since such characteristics are exactly what bring about the willingness to accept and follow His promptings when they come - to be filled with the Holy Ghost by actually partaking of His nourishment when it is offered.
I still plan on fasting often this month, but I think I will be focusing my fast specifically on feeling the sweet and filling nourishment that the Holy Ghost can provide, specifically so that I will desire it more and more - so that I truly will know what it feels like to hunger and thirst after righteousness - to feel true and driving motivation to be "right", "correct", "suitable", "favorable", etc. before God. One way to sharpen hunger and thirst is through deprivation - but it just struck me that another way to do so is to taste something so delicious that the mere memory of that experience makes you hunger and thirst for more.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Reflections on Meekness: Being Gentler With the Ones We Love
1) Being "gentle" applies to every interpersonal relationship and activity in our lives. As I've mentioned with the other characteristics of perfection, it has become apparent to me that we don't become meek by what we do (acting meekly); we become meek by how we think and feel (which then motivates our actions). I know that might seem like semantics, but it has been an enlightening insight for me.
2) As I said in my initial meekness post, I am naturally kind and generous, but I am not as naturally gentle. Two out of three does not "wholeness" make. If I want to be more meek **than many people**, two out of three might suffice; if I want to be more meek **as I progress toward perfect meekness**, two out of three won't get me there. I need to work on the 1/3 I don't possess naturally.
3) It is much easier for me to be gentle outside my home and my interactions with my children than it is with my daily frustrations at home. Likewise, it is much easier to be gentle with strangers than it is to be gentle in situations where I am interacting with those I love and where I am invested emotionally to a deeper degree. That fascinates me, since it appears to be counter-intuitive. You would think I would be gentler with the ones I love the most, but the opposite is true. Why is that?
4) Two things have struck me this month - relative to both my biological family and my on-line family (those people I have come to love and admire in my blogging spheres).
a) I am more protective of those I love, and the deeper that love is the more strong my protective instincts are. Therefore, I tend to "defend" them more instinctively - which means to act more quickly and reflexively - which means with less pre-thought and consideration and control. In these instances, I allow myself to be acted upon (to respond reactively) more often than when I have time consciously to think about and "choose" my actions (to respond proactively). Iow, when I feel that someone I love and/or admire greatly is being attacked or unfairly accused, I tend to fall back on whatever my "natural" reaction is - which tends not to be as gentle as I want it to be.
b) I have higher expectations of those I love and admire. I want them to be better - to grow - to progress - to be more Christlike. When some stranger does or says something insensitive or mean or even terrible, I don't like it - but I am not invested emotionally as deeply in that person as I am in someone whom I know far better and have served directly. Therefore, I am more able to respond in a gentle fashion - since my expectations were lower at the time. I have found myself on many occasions this month, as I blog at various locations, being able to "step back" and reword my initial comments - often with the explicit statement "as gently as I can say this". That has been encouraging to me.
It is much harder, however, when the insensitive, mean or even terrible thing that is said or done comes from a family member or someone on a blog whom I love and/or admire. My natural reaction is to be disappointed and, by extension, hurt by such words or actions; hence, my natural response is to deflect that disappointment and hurt back to the source - and that is not a naturally gentle action.
I have never understood very well the axiom, "You only hurt the ones you love." I always have thought it was completely wrong and nonsensical, since I know -and know of - plenty of people who hurt those they don't love - often in terrible ways. I think I understand it better at the end of this month.
I think this is more of a terrestrial law, while what I understood previously is more of a telestial law. At the telestial level, people hurt people - with little distinction between those they love and those they don't love. At the terrestrial level, people have learned to not judge and react toward those they don't know; hence, they only hurt those they know - and those they love are those they know the best. (They are the only ones who care about you enough to be hurt by your actions; they are the only ones about whom you care enough to react in a hurtful way.)
At the celestial level, people stop judging those they know and love; they stop projecting their own expectations onto others completely and simply accept them as they are; they respond gently and lovingly because they stop holding others to a false standard those others simply can't live. It seems like such a paradox, since our ultimate focus should be to help others learn and grow, but that service can be given without expectation and pressure and disapproval and condemnation; it can be given gently and with love.
Remember, "reproving betimes with sharpness" has many possible translations, but the one that fits what I believe to be the best model means "telling (a person) that s/he has done wrong immediately but in a manner focused solely on what is wrong" - and it is followed by "when moved upon by the Holy Ghost". I dare say that most of the "reproving" we do, if we have progressed to at least a terrestrial level of meekness, is not done under the prompting of the Holy Ghost - and it probably is not done with a strait and narrow focus solely on the wrong. The insight to determine exactly the wrong that caused the reaction probably is difficult (or impossible) to gain without the guidance of the Holy Ghost, since we still see through our own glasses darkly.
I have been much more aware of my non-gentle reactions this month - both when I have succeeded in quelling them and when I have not done so. It has been interesting to be more aware of a non-gentle reaction that I still was unable to stop even as I was aware of it - and to look back and try to determine if that inability to stop was due to weakness or the prompting of the Holy Ghost. At different times, it has been both. I have a ways to go before I can be wholly, completely finished and developed in meekness, but I have appreciated the opportunity to recognize a weakness I wasn't aware of fully and learn more about what I need to do to make this weak thing become strong.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
It is Finished: Death on Easter Sunday
How do you convey to a small group of friends - people who have bonded in a way that is almost impossible in a typical large ward - that their small house of spiritual refuge (the place that they have come to bless each Fast and Testimony meeting as their anchor in the storms of life) will be locked and unavailable next week? How do you tell them that their dedication and sincere effort and sacrifice appear to have been offered for naught? Most wrenchingly, how do you do so on Easter Sunday - a day when they should leave church rejoicing in the grace and condescension of God?
Even more to the point, how do you do this when you can't do so openly? How do you address an Easter talk in Sacrament Meeting knowing that they will be weeping for a different reason in just over an hour - knowing that the joy and hope and love you pray they feel as they listen to your message will be replaced by pain and sorrow and disbelief and real, deep grief as they learn that their congregation (established only three years ago amid great joy and hope) is being dissolved? How do you preach of life and eternal happiness when you will help officiate that same day at the funeral they can't possibly anticipate? How do you kill an entire congregation on the day set aside to celebrate new life?
By all objective measurements, Jesus of Nazareth was an abject failure. His mortal ministry lasted three short years. The hopes of a nation (nay, of God's own Chosen People) had been recorded for centuries, trumpeting a future arrival in the following words:
"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, Counselor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace." (Isaiah 9:6)
Only thirty-three years earlier, the angel had appeared and proclaimed:
"Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord." (Luke 2:10-11)
Immediately following this announcement, the heavenly multitude exclaimed:
"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men." (Luke 2:14)
Prophets extolled the importance of His birth and life; they stressed the deliverance He would bring. He would justify the brutality of their former oppression by establishing peace and mercy and power. He would reclaim their rightful place in the kingdom of their God, humbling once and for all those who had reviled and scourged and persecuted them as they awaited their great day of glory. They still wait, nearly two thousand years later, since Jesus of Nazareth failed to fulfill their expectations so utterly and completely. Easter Sunday did not bring them joy and peace and deliverance; it brought them only more oppression and misery and separation and death.
What then of Easter Sunday - of a sealed tomb and a sobbing, despondent discipleship? Amid their continuing pain and terrible turmoil, amid the persecution and upheaval that would not end, how could they possibly find peace and joy and hope? They found it in the following pronouncement - one of the simplest, most concise statements in all of recorded history:
"He is not here: for he is risen, as he said. " (Matthew 28:6)
All of us are born to die. All of us live this life knowing it will end. Every person who has ever lived - every organization that has ever been established - every group that has ever met - every family that has ever existed - everything that has ever been created has begun with an inevitable end in store. However, through the birth and life and death of Jesus of Nazareth, all of us can look forward with hope and joy and love and longing to that day when it shall be said of us, as it was of Him, "[They] are not here; for [they are] risen."
Just as Jesus' ministry was too short for many to understand it as a glorious success, and just as the results of that ministry were too seemingly inconsequential for many to recognize their eternal significance, our own growth and success and efforts often are too short and seemingly inconsequential to recognize as the glorious successes they truly are. We celebrate Easter today not just to honor the resurrection of our King, but also to pay our humble respect to the grace that transfers his victory to us - that allows us to see and understand and feel gratitude for the successes embedded in our own apparent failures. We celebrate Easter today to celebrate not just the risen Lord, but also to honor the death and suffering that had to be offered in order for the resurrection to occur. As a friend wrote, "Christ was suffering servant as well as glorious victor, that, like the sinners the rest of us are, he had to die (and apparently fail) before he could be resurrected (and ultimately succeed)." Today, on Easter, we celebrate life and a newness of glory, but we also celebrate death and the ending of one ministry for the beginning of another.
What can we take on this Easter Sunday from the first Easter Sunday so long ago? As we honor and praise and worship our Lord's victory over death, how can we "liken [even this thing] unto us, that it might be for our profit and learning?" (1 Nephi 19:23)
In all we do - in all our efforts and associations and organizations - may we recognize and accept that our meager efforts to become like Him are undertaken with failure as the inevitable end - but that the growth we experience in our mortal efforts and associations is all He requires. May we focus on the joy of the journey and accept the unexpected detours and heartache along the way, willing to say as He said, "Not my will, but thine, be done." (Luke 22:42) May we live so that we too may be able to say, as we draw our final breath, "It is finished. (John 19:30) Into thy hands I commend my spirit." (Luke 23:46)
May we realize that our efforts, no matter the objective outcome, are not offered and accomplished in vain - they are not viewed by our Lord as failures. Rather, let us look forward to that great and glorious day when we shall hear those gentle, soothing words, "Well done, thou good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord." (Matthew 25:21)
Friday, March 21, 2008
Perfection: Becoming as Little Children
Based on the original meaning in Matthew, I wish "Be ye therefore perfect" was translated in our own modern vernacular as, "Become ye therefore perfected." I like "become perfected" much more than "be perfect" - since it doesn't carry the same mis-perceptions about being mistake-free in the here and now.
Envision a sculptor laboring for years over his "masterpiece" - perfecting it carefully, smoothing over flaws in the initial creative process, altering it by chipping away the rough edges or redoing the blurred and faded colors. Such a product wouldn't be "imperfect" due to "mistakes"; it would be imperfect simply because it is not completed / finished / wholly developed - because there still is work to do and changes to make until it is what its creator meant it to be when he first started molding the original lump of clay. Any marring caused by exposure to the wind or rain or hardness of the material itself would be "fixed" by extra attention and detail and softening of the material itself - making it more malleable in the hands of the sculptor.
How do we become perfected by our own Master Sculptor? First and foremost, by trusting that sculptor to never stop sculpting - to grasp that hope and never let go; next by striving to recognize flaws (areas in need of alteration) - and turning those defects toward Him, to receive His attention and the needed alterations; third, by becoming softer and more malleable - more able to internalize the characteristics of perfection (those articulated in the Beatitudes and the rest of the Sermon on the Mount) that ALL denote a degree of softness and openness rather than "a hardening of resolve". This process can be seen as coming alive in the hands of the sculptor - consciously choosing to reduce our natural rigidity and allow ourselves to be molded into what He envisioned when He condescended to create us as His children.
With this vision, we could stop beating ourselves up over things in our past that we simply cannot change and focus on identifying those flaws that caused the pain of our past. We could stop trying to fix ourselves through the sheer force of our will and focus on following His blueprint for spiritual growth that will fix our flaws. We could develop a softer heart to accept and internalize His will for us, rather than develop a harder resolve to do what we think we should do.
It truly is one of mortality's greatest ironies that babies and young children often heal much more quickly and suffer far less serious injury than adults, and it is related directly to their lack of rigidity and being less hardened and "set" in their condition. Children change constantly, but those closest to them - who see them every day - often see those changes less clearly than those who only see the children every month or year. Perhaps being as little children means more than just being open to vocal correction - as it often is perceived. Perhaps it means being open to "alteration" and "growth" - being more malleable and able and willing to be molded and changed - to continue to grow and become something different every day and week and month and year. Perhaps it means being willing to accept the slow and incremental growth inherent in the process of alteration (the possible), rather than demanding a condition before it is complete and being frustrated with the inability to achieve the impossible.
Please, think of this difference (an on-going process vs. a mistake-free condition) before you use the word "perfect" in a spiritual sense.