Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Banker's Hours


I have been thinking about relationships today, and, oddly enough, Heleman 5:16 in the B.O.M. came to mind:

“And now, my sons, remember, remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, yea, his shafts in the whirlwind, yea, when all his hail and his mighty storm shall beat upon you, it shall have no power over you to drag you down to the gulf of misery and endless wo, because of the rock upon which ye are built, which is a sure foundation, a foundation whereon if men build they cannot fall.”

To me, this passage is one of the most beautiful and insightful in the Book of Mormon.  I think the imagery of the Savior and how his atonement affects our lives in the midst of disaster can also be applied to a host of other earthly circumstances, including our relationships with family and friends. 

Today, I have not thought much about the good times.

Instead, I removed the rose-colored glasses and thought about some of the rotten ones.

The relationship storms. 

The thunderclouds that overshadow the seamless blue sky of our niceties and place us at odds with our loved ones.

The disagreements. 

The arguments 

The grudges.

The mighty winds.

The shafts in the whirlwind.

I suspect that these and other types of relationship rumbles were high on Heleman’s list of things that, if we let them, could peel us back from the rock of our redeemer.  The passage does not give us false hope by saying “if” the devil shall send forth his mighty storms. Rather, it truthfully warns us what to do “when” the devil shall send forth his mighty storms.

So when the storms of strife and contention come - and they will - why do some relationships crumble while others outlast the pounding?

There are probably a lot more semantics to that question than I will ever be able to address here, but my own circumstances point toward Steven Covey’s analogy of the emotional bank account. Covey’s idea of the emotional bank account is based on the law of the harvest. Metaphorically, it states that we should be constantly building our relationship balances (trust) with deposits of genuine appreciation, positive attention, sincere apologies, kept promises  and acts of service. When we make an emotional withdrawal, which can involve criticism, sarcasm, cruelty, or failing to keep promises, we lose a measure of that currency (trust) commensurate with the severity of the action. The only thing that will restore the account to its former balance is a series of subsequent deposits.

Makes sense, right?

You get what you pay for.

Now before you skip ahead of me and quote the Savior’s mandate to forgive others, including our enemies (repentant or not), let’s remember that the idea of the emotional bank account does not represent our willingness to let go of a grudge.

It represents trust.

I think trust runs a little deeper and closer to the heart than what can be accomplished in realm of immediate willpower.

In fact, it is the core of our being….the innermost chamber of our heart.

It is a part of us that cannot be taken by force.

Therefore, trust is something that, in large measure, should be worked out between the parties involved.

This does not mean that God is uninvolved in our trust issues, nor does it give us permission to be ruthless creditors (remember the unjust servant?) or lax in our payment schedules.  The Spirit is always encouraging us to restore our overdrawn accounts to their natural order, whether we are the offender or the one offended. In many such instances, there are significant funds available through the atonement that can act as a permanent “trust fund” if the debt cannot be fully restored.  In most situations, however, there must be a financial investment of our own.

Here’s a short case study:

A few years ago, I got into a major rift with some people I was very close to.  Tempers raged and the sword of truth (more like the dagger of perception) was brandished without much aim or restraint. When the smoke cleared and it was time to survey the damage, I was really surprised by how I felt.  My heart was broken. As I imagined the wasteland that represented the final destination of our bickering, I realized that our emotional account must remain open at all costs. Ironically, the heat of battle had taken me to the perfect place to earn a little currency:  I didn't care anymore who was right. For a guy like me, that’s a heck of a place to earn a few emotional bucks, but it was the start of good things.

Over the next few months, I found that while there were thousands of dollars in trust that had been withdrawn during our dispute, our account was never really in danger of closing out. In fact, there were millions more hidden away somewhere in a safety deposit box that I hadn’t accounted for.  The knowledge of that extra storehouse gave me confidence in making monthly, weekly, and then daily deposits to balance the books. Soon, the emotional bank was thriving and the episode seemed like a bad dream.The point of my mentioning this is simple: though the group I speak of endured a fairly heavy barrage of emotional bank withdrawals, we were prepared for the storm and weathered the buffeting well.

How did we do that?

Somehow, it had happened over decades….in hundreds of things I hadn't really noticed. Conversations, jokes, lunch in the mall, watching TV. Not just shallow, cliché conversations  but good, soul-searching talks. Inside-jokes that probably no one could have understood but us. Things I didn't think about twice while they were happening, but that wound up making us exceedingly rich over time. Fortunately, the story had a happy ending, and we wound up stronger than before the storm occurred.

A few years later, I was involved in a tiff with some other folks in my life. This time, the withdrawal was very minor…maybe a few hundred dollars. The problem was, there was not a huge nest egg sitting in the safety deposit box that could be leveraged against the withdrawal. There were a lot of reasons for that lack of funding - some my fault, some not - but the law of the harvest was pretty quick to pronounce the verdict:

Account overdrawn.

What seemed to be a small thing turned into a big mess.

From the outside looking in, it didn't seem make much sense, but from an insider’s perspective, natural laws were simply running their course. We didn't have a padded trust account because most of our conversations progressed no further than the weather. There certainly weren't many inside jokes among us. Truth be told, awkwardness described our situation better than anything else.  We were a bunch of people meeting up every now and then to exchange pleasantries because we were supposed to. There was an aloof coolness that permeated our dealings, and slowly, surely, the trust dwindled down to a zero balance. When the seemingly insignificant withdrawal came, there was nothing left to cover it.

How did we fix the broken piggy bank? I still haven’t quite figured it out. In the meantime, I have learned some important lessons out of the emotional bank analogy:

  1.          Life’s not perfect. Some of the best moments in sports history were made by injured athletes playing through pain. So it is with us. Our relationships will never be perfect in this life, and neither will we. We have to learn to play with pain.
  2.       No matter how hard we try, there will always be someone who doesn't like us. Not just a casual, uninformed critic, but one who knows us on a personal level. One who understands exactly what we are about… and spurns us anyway.  That’s OK too.

In the midst these imperfections, there will be joys. For instance, I believe that somewhere out there, each of has one person who can float us a loan to tide us over if we need some emotional currency.  Someone who has looked into our soul, seen all of the heroic good and hellish evil that exists in that space, and loves us anyway.  Someone who will laugh with us when no one else understands what is funny. “Someone,” as the movie said, “with a friendly face.”

In considering the differences between heaven and hell, Emmanuel Swedenborg pointed out that to love people without loving principle was to love evil. The idea sounds harsh, but I think it is probably true. That said, I think our love of people must extend a bit beyond our principles in order to keep it real. Otherwise, isn't our attempt at charity just another performance-based sport? I don’t think we need any more of those than we already have. Until the day when all our accounts are somehow balanced, I have faith that there is an accountant up there that knows a lot more than I do about human nature…and how to overcome it.  He drops me a few dollars here and there when I need it, and bails me out when I’m bankrupt.  He even matches my Christmas club.

Because of Him, I can say that my bank will be open at 9:00 sharp for business tomorrow.
  
Rain or shine.

Or heaven forbid... wind, hail and a mighty storm.






Wednesday, November 7, 2012

One Dish at a Time

Back in the summer of 2000, I found myself standing at one of those archetypal crossroads that would have a big impact on the next ten years or so of my life. The scenery was typical for a guy in his early-thirties: I was unhappy with my employment situation and was looking to make a last-minute change before I hit 40.

Not long after I handed over my two-weeks notice, the powers-that-be sent a very likable guy down from corporate to reason with me. The company had invested a large sum of corporate "play money" in my training, and was hoping to extend their profit by talking me down from the ledge of my work-related grievances. After a lengthy discussion, I was told that I needed to better develop the ability to “compartmentalize” my life. In short, this would involve choosing to methodically think about one thing at a time while allowing other important (but not as important) matters to fall temporarily by the wayside.

At the time, I smiled, shook hands, and said I would consider the advice. In the back of my mind, though,  I thought I had been given a fool's errand – rose-tinted advice that was hopelessly idealistic. I ended up leaving the company shortly thereafter because, to me, there were just too many things going wrong simultaneously within the organization to efficently deal with.

As I have gotten older, I have realized that I was missing a couple of important elements that may have helped to translate this idea of compartmentalization into a more realistic option.

The first of these problems was simple:

I had poor vision.

More specifically and less metaphorically, I lacked a correct mental and spiritual picture of what really matters most.....and it didn't have anything to do with which policies were being implemented at the office.

I doubt a person needs to be affiliated with an organized religion to recall discussions or sermons addressing end-of-life priorities and what kinds of things we are likely to remember at that time.  I believe this topic catches our interest for at least one reason. Most people, regardless of social class or standing, end up saying similar things when they face the end of mortal life....and these insights run counter to the inclinations of those still swimming in the fast-moving current of work, family obligations and other interests. For example, I doubt many of us will come to regret our attempts to live with an open heart in our increasingly sterile emotional climate. The so-called saccharin-soaked axioms we embrace during our time on earth may well end up being the sweetener we enjoy during our last few days in mortality. I believe we will find that a simple hug or the memory of a verbal sentiment will increase its value a hundredfold when we arrive at that junction. On the other hand, I wonder how many business interests, intellectual pursuits, or other secular accomplishments we will savor when our time comes. I’m guessing not many. While I believe we develop good character traits and gain valuable experiences against the backdrop of our worldly interests, I think we will ultimately find that the profound satisfaction we seek  masquerades in the guise of the simple opportunities outside of our paychecks, the internet or even the election polls.

 Using myself as an example, I can remember a day when I had  performed (in my perception) at a high level at work. In the course of duty, I encountered and overcame challenges that stimulated my mind and invigorated my sense of creativity. I came home feeling pretty good about myself, sure that I had made a meaningful contribution to my section of the vineyard. At the end of that particular day, however, I had the distinct impression come over me that the most useful work I had participated in all day was to help my wife do the dishes after dinner.

Imagine that!

Though we all know the principle behind this impression is probably true, our minds have a hard time accepting it. There is beauty in the mundane, but we have to choose it to see it. I think this is true for guys and gals alike.

Sometimes I feel like I want to grab life by the scruff of its chaotic neck and give it a thumping.

I want to try to add something in the mix that will make my way of thinking seem brilliant.

I want to analyze.

I want to get the credit for figuring it all out on my own.

I want to be important and make a mark on this world that will last for generations!

Sound even vaguely familiar?

The 61st section of the Doctrine and Covenants gives us some food for thought.

“This Revelation was “given through Joseph Smith the Prophet, on the bank of the Missouri River, McIlwaine’s Bend, 12 August 1831 (see History of the Church, 1:202–5). On their return trip to Kirtland, the Prophet and ten elders had traveled down the Missouri River in canoes.”

Moving to verse three, he states:

“But verily I say unto you, that it is not needful for this whole company of mine elders to be moving swiftly upon the waters, whilst the inhabitants on either side are perishing in unbelief.”

I have always interpreted this passage to mean that we shouldn’t get so focused one aspect of our life's mission that we miss the importance of other less obvious parts that, truth be told, are more relevant and useful in that particular moment than what we had our minds set on. Joseph wholeheartedly believed He was on an errand form the Lord. The Spirit didn't correct his mission of his purpose....he simply told him to slow down! A sense of purpose and direction are great, but not if we are ignoring opportunities that present themselves to us as we travel. That means different things for each one of us, but the beauty of the principle is that it doesn't take much thought to figure out where it applies in our particular circumstances

Haven’t you ever packed for a trip?

Wasn’t it exciting to get on the entrance ramp to a superhighway, floor the gas petal, and commence the journey?

The sensations and anticipation of traveling toward a given destination are so compelling that sometimes it doesn’t even matter if we’re headed in the right direction…or if that broken-down car on the side of the road needs a couple of seconds of our time to make sure they have a cell-phone and a ride.

It's about being in control of our lives....but not.

It's about holding on to our goals and our plans...but loosely.

Living with this kind of balance involves focus, thought-control, and yes, compartmentalization. When the things that matter are well-tended, compartmentalization becomes much easier because our consciences aren’t bursting through the walls of our compartment with accusations of what should have been done or what might have been.

We are, as my boss put it, traveling light.

It’s not rocket science. In fact, it’s pretty basic…and I think that’s what makes it so difficult to do day in and day out.

The second character flaw that contributed to my inability to salvage my aforementioned job  is also pretty basic, and it ties in closely with the first:

I was not square with the Lord.

Over the years, I have found that if my life is not in order,  I will not feel peace. If I do not feel peace, my thoughts resemble a tornado. They are chaotic, short, and stormy. I also end up feeling a sense of unease and a sort of disconnect from all that is good. This creates negative momentum, and makes choosing correct actions (which usually involve sacrifice) a little bit harder,  and choosing to be selfish (which involves no effort other than indulgence) a little bit easier.

Ever watch football?

Al Pacino got it right in Any Given Sunday:

It’s a game of inches.

Most of the epic battles we see on ESPN are won or lost in those insignificant inches. We don't see most of those hard fraught inches through the tangle of arms and legs and the dust of the chaos near the line. Instead,  we think that the more visible, highly sensationalized  quarterback or star receiver was the uncontested hero of the play. In some instances, they were. In others, we might not have  noticed the efforts of the offensive lineman who gave the quarterback time to throw the ball down field, or the tight end who made a key block that set the play up.

Our focus allowed us to see only the throw and the touchdown and we thought: "Well....you're either  a hero...or your not."

The reality is much more inspiring...and terrifying.

Heroes are forged in the inches.

There are two things in life that I have found bring me into a negative momentum when I am  trying to collect a few of those inches:

1.      Small, almost imperceptible lapses in character
2.      Inattention to repentance once these transgressions occur. 


The reality is that sin hurts. Don't get me wrong - the offenses I tend to brush under the carpet are not of the nature that torment my conscience for any extended period of time. I do not have that much stamina. Instead, I might endure a brief sting of conscience, an “I probably shouldn’t have said/done that”, and the episode is over.

Or is it?

I have found that if I lose enough of these moral inches, my spirit will experience an almost imperceptible shift. Somehow, I end up bending more and more in the wrong direction. While I may not experience the torment of soul Alma the younger did in the Book of Mormon, I inadvertently enact the invisible but powerful law of momentum against myself.

Choosing the right thing the next time will be just a little bit harder.

Choosing the wrong path will be just a bit easier.

It is subtle.

It is silent.

It is insidious.

Yet it is true.

I find that I do much better if I address these moral inches daily with the Lord, or if need be, with the appropriate person(s). This requires a certain measure of diligence, patience and humility, but the result is a restful conscience and a feeling of having the atonement at work in my life.

Ironically, I am struggling with an issue of the heart at the present moment that is getting the better of me.

In dark moments, I hunch my shoulders and tell the Lord he asks too much.

In more enlightened times, I realize that he never asked me to carry the whole load…just to walk one step at a time in the right direction. Sylvester Stallone's famous line from Over the Top - "The world don't meet nobody halfway!" - while true in the secular world, is anything but true in the spiritual world.
 
More fitting is the score for that movie, sung by Kenny Logins:

Meet me halfway....across the sky. 

So what does all of this rambling about momentum  have to do with compartmentalization, and why am I thinking about the topic today?

It didn’t take me long to scroll through the Facebook posts this morning and see that many of my friends are struggling with things that that are largely out of our hands at this moment.

Maybe you are one of the ones celebrating the results of the presidential election.

Maybe you are not.

Either way, my humble take on the situation is thus:

If your hurting, it's OK to lick your wounds.

Then, when you are in a better place, focus on what you CAN do.

Then go do it.

My church's press release this morning was timely:

"We congratulate President Obama on winning a second term as President of the United States.


After a long campaign, this is now a time for Americans to come together. It is a long tradition among Latter-day Saints to pray for our national leaders in our personal prayers and in our congregations. We invite Americans everywhere, whatever their political persuasion, to pray for the President, for his administration and the new Congress as they lead us through difficult and turbulent times. May our national leaders reflect the best in wisdom and judgment as they fulfill the great trust afforded to them by the American people.

We also commend Governor Romney for engaging at the highest level of our democratic process, which, by its nature, demands so much of those who offer themselves for public service. We wish him and his family every success in their future endeavors."

I join my prayers at this time with those of my church and those of other faiths that this will be a time for peace.

Not just for peace in our political world, but, more importantly,  for that individualized peace that comes from above “which surpasses all understanding.”

The peace that will allow each of us, happy or sad, to see beyond the stark lines of our divisions and move forward.

The peace that will allow us to accept and, if necessary, to compartmentalize our thoughts and disappointments so that we are still effective in our own lives.

The peace that reminds us that win, lose or draw, the most important thing any of us can do by the end of today might end up happening underneath our own roofs.... while helping out with the dishes after dinner.












Thursday, September 20, 2012

Reflections on a Box of Chocolates: Water Fills Its Measure

One of my favorite all time movies is “Forrest Gump”.

The movie is full of practical lessons that can be used as food for thought. One truth that stood out to me was simple but profound:

 The law of momentum deeply affects all of our lives.

 Isn't it funny how momentum seems to escalate in our lives (one way or the other)as a result of the small, everyday decisions that we make? The outcome of who we are at the end of our lives will likely be the result of pattens set in place by years of ordinary, seemingly insignificant choices. This can serve as a reminder that the mundane in life does have meaning for us, though we may be required to exercise a degree of faith in order to realize that meaning.

I have put a lot of thought into another concept that is seen at both the very beginning and very end of Forrest Gump.

 During both segments, a white  feather is shown  floating on the wind, leaving us to wonder if it has arrived at it’s destination merely as a result of chance, or if there is a source of order that has guided the feather along, giving the feather’s destination meaning and purpose. Can our lives here on earth be compared to this feather ? Is life random ? If not, do the forces that act on our lives limit our ability to navigate our own course?

I have been taught that our lives have great purpose. As a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, I believe that we each have an essence, or spirit, that contains much of the knowledge, intelligence, wisdom, experience, and most importantly, love that we have accumulated over the course of our existence. This essence is eternal in nature, and cannot be destroyed or diminished by our physical death. I believe that God is the Father of our spirits, and that He is a personage of infinite love, compassion, and holiness. I believe that we lived in His presence and were taught by Him before we came here to earth. I believe that our lives have a purpose here on earth, and that our actions here will have a great influence on where we will find ourselves in the next life. The knowledge of where we came from, why we are here, and where we are going has added perspective to the everyday choices that I make about how I spend my time, how I try to treat others, and how I set priorities.

I would like to use this generalized plan as a backdrop to reflect on some questions I have developed over the course of time in trying to find and understand my place in the grand scheme of things. I should state that the questions I ask and the conclusions I have come up with reflect my own thoughts and feelings, and should not be confused with the basic doctrines of my church. For information on this, I recommend going to www.mormon.org. This is a wonderful website geared at answering basic questions about the “Mormon” faith.

As I have come to terms with the fact that there is a God that cares about our lives, I have wondered about what this means for how we should view ourselves in relation to the world around us.

Specifically, I have wondered about how much we should be proactively engaged in the direction that our lives take.

On one hand, I see us as the feather in the wind at the close of Forrest Gump.

We are, with little effort on our own, guided by the powers of the universe to the people and situations we need for growth and service. God is an all knowing, all powerful being that is in control of the universe. His will is destined to be carried out regardless of the intentions of mankind…hence we have holy scriptures filled with His prophecies about the unfolding of our history here on earth. God not only has a generalized plan for all of mankind, but a specific plan for each of our individual lives. Our purpose in life is to “uncover ” that plan and carry it out. We have each been given special talents to help us carry out our specific mission on earth, which largely involve our ability to reach out to and help others to successfully complete their own missions. We have been placed in the circumstances and with the people that the Lord desires us to work with.

With these thoughts in mind, I have wondered about the wisdom of taking a proactive, goal oriented approach to life. Such a course would run counter to the natural flow of the universe. God’s plan is unfolding exactly as it should be, and if we accept life as it is given to us, we will always be in the right place at the right time…without the hindrance of an agenda. Jesus seemed to be alluding to this sort of existence when He taught that we should “take no thought for the morrow." This sort of life reflects trust in God, meaningful prayer with a desire to seek God’s will and not our own, acceptance of His will, obedience to His commandments, and a soft touch that allows us to be sensitive to His Spirit, which often prompts us to help certain people at certain times and gives us specific, daily direction. This Spirit operates in the capacity of a ” still small voice ” that is more often felt than heard. Strong emotions and distracted lifestyles can drown this voice out, so there is a certain need for reverence and sobriety in everyday life…no small task!

Certainly, success in this type of life would involve a peaceful, serene existence that is similar in it’s nature to certain aspects of eastern philosophy. Life is in a constant state of disintegration, so any attachments to it will ultimately result in a feeling of disappointment and frustration. Thus, we move through life with a certian degree of detachment to the world around us…not too high, not too low.

This lifestyle is one that I have tried in large measure to live up to for the past five years, using my agency to obtain God’s will and carry it out, but using very little creativity or developing very little opinionated thought.
I have recently wondered about a different approach that seems to be the polar opposite of the somewhat peaceful, reactive lifestyle I have described.

The second choice of lifestyle is one that by nature seems to be much more engaging than the first. It assumes that while God has chosen some of the highlights in our life needed for growth opportunities, He has left much of the details up to us, like an art teacher who lays out scissors, construction paper, and crayons and tells the class to go to work on a Christmas card for mom and dad. This mindset centers in a proactive, goal oriented approach to life that puts one in the position of being a “mover and a shaker.” The defining scripture for this finds the Savior counseling us to be ” anxiously engaged in a good cause” and that we should accomplish “much good of our own free will and choice”. He tells us that a person that must be commanded in all things is ” slothful, and not a wise servant."

The fundamental nature of this mindset is one of not waiting for commandments, but taking action routinely as we develop and carry out a goal oriented plan for our lives that involves weekly or daily accountability and somewhat aggressive action.


The upside to this paradigm is a feeling of energy and control over our lives. We are connected to the world around us, and are effective in our relationships with others. We feel deeply that we are making the fullest use of our freedom to choose, that we are expressing our innermost selves, and that we are ” happening to life ” and not vice versa. We have a vested interest in all of our duties, and a deep feeling of satisfaction from using the creative forces within us. We are “partners with God, sharing the decision-making duties in our lives. Instead of a feather floating in the wind, we are captains of a ship, charting and steering our own course, and receiving occasional direction from a very good weather forecaster.

The problem that I have developed in testing the waters of these two mindsets is the seeming impossibility of doing both effectively at the same time. I have found that the more goal oriented I become, the more I am likely to be distracted by my own thoughts and emotions. This creates a sort of spiritual ” static ” that makes subtle promptings from the Lord more difficult to feel and distinguish. If a specific plan is created, there is a likelihood of missing the forest for the trees, focusing more on predetermined results than on the minute to minute needs that the Lord may need my help on. Also, as emotions become deeply involved in the course of my life, I find myself less likely to be obedient to the Lord if a drastic course alteration is needed….I am more tempted to do my own will.

On the other side of the spectrum, if I take a feather in the wind approach and trust that the natural course of unfolding events is God’s will, I am much more in tune with the daily whisperings of God’s spirit, but much less energized and invested in the work of my life.

As a personality that has been drawn to the arts, the lack of creativity in this lifestyle is sometimes a painful gift to offer at the alter.

Inner peace has it’s price.

I guess the real question I have struggled with in pondering the pros and cons of these two lifestyles is the question of self expression.

 The Savior said ” I do nothing of myself, but as my father hath taught me.” He personifies the virtue of obedience. If we are to emulate Jesus, who did only the will of Heavenly Father, where does our own thought process and creativity come into play as we live out our lives ? ”

 Whosoever would save his life will lose it, but whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall save it.”.

Are these virtues to be offered on the alter as willing sacrifices to our Heavenly Father as a means of turning our lives and wills over to Him ?

Or are we encouraged to use our creative powers to engage our minds and emotions and chart our own course through life, determining the specifics ourselves ?

Is spiritual victory found in surrendering or conquering ?

It is likely the answer will be different for each person, as we came to earth with our own disposition, personality, and set of lessons to learn.

 Thinking through this paradox has taught me that our lives cannot be compared to one another using our own judgement. God’s design for us on earth seems to be more centered in growth opportunities than in final justice. We are all works in progress, and one way or another, just like the feather floating in the breeze, God’s wind will carry us to the place that is right for who we have chosen to become.

As the old saying goes….

” Water fills it’s measure….. so shall I.”


Monday, May 28, 2012

The Next Row of Grass

Yesterday, a discussion in our Sunday school class raised some thought-provoking questions that seemed worthy of posting.

The topic was simple enough at face value:

 What does it mean to “mourn with those that mourn?”

 The context was derived from the 18th chapter of Mosiah in the Book of Mormon.
And it came to pass after many days there were a goodly number gathered together at the place of Mormon, to hear the words of Alma. Yea, all were gathered together that believed on his word, to hear him. And he did teach them, and did preach unto them repentance, and redemption, and faith on the Lord. And it came to pass that he said unto them: Behold, here are the waters of Mormon (for thus were they called) and now, as ye are desirous to come into the fold of God, and to be called his people, and are willing to bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light; Yea, and are willing to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort, and to stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places that ye may be in, even until death, that ye may be redeemed of God, and be numbered with those of the first resurrection, that ye may have eternal life— Now I say unto you, if this be the desire of your hearts, what have you against being baptized in the name of the Lord, as a witness before him that ye have entered into a covenant with him, that ye will serve him and keep his commandments, that he may pour out his Spirit more abundantly upon you?
This sermon highlighted several important elements of the gospel as seen from the LDS perspective:

 1. We feel joy when we are filled with spirit of the Lord

 2. Being filled with the spirit of the Lord naturally sparks within us a desire to serve our fellow brothers and sisters.

3. We should not be hesitant to take covenants upon ourselves that will solidify our commitment to endure in faith until the end of our mortal probation.

 In this vein, “mourning with those that mourn” is a simple concept.

 It means that, whenever the situation merits, we abandon selfish interests and make ourselves available to comfort those who are going through hard times. We become a friend to those who have heads that hang down. We serve those who are in the midst of trials.

 But…..there is always another principle somewhere to balance things out and keep us on the road of temperance.

 So here is my question:

  Is there a point in our service to others where we can cross the line and hinder the Lord’s work?

In order to understand this question from the perspective of the LDS faith, there are two important terms to consider:

 The first term is the Priesthood, or the power of God delegated to man. The Doctrine and Covenants outline the requirements for using this power:
That the rights of the priesthood are inseparably connected with the powers of heaven, and that the powers of heaven cannot be controlled nor handled only upon the principles of righteousness. That they may be conferred upon us, it is true; but when we undertake to cover our sins, or to gratify our pride, our vain ambition, or to exercise control or dominion or compulsion upon the souls of the children of men, in any degree of unrighteousness, behold, the heavens withdraw themselves; the Spirit of the Lord is grieved; and when it is withdrawn, Amen to the priesthood or the authority of that man. No power or influence can or ought to be maintained by virtue of the priesthood, only by persuasion, by long-suffering, by gentleness and meekness, and by love unfeigned; By kindness, and pure knowledge, which shall greatly enlarge the soul without hypocrisy, and without guile.
The priesthood, in a nutshell, means furthering the Lords causes in the way He would have us do it, based on principles of righteousness. An important element of this is learning to follow the Lord’s will (and not our own) in ministering to others.

 The second term pertinent to this topic is Priestcraft. Priestcraft, in a nutshell, describes mankind’s attempt to abuse or imitate the priesthood for selfish interests. From Dallin H. Oaks:
"The Book of Mormon illustrates this same principle in its definition of priestcraft, the sin committed by those who preach the gospel to gain personal advantage rather than to further the work of the Lord: “Priestcrafts are that men preach and set themselves up for a light unto the world, that they may get gain and praise of the world; but they seek not the welfare of Zion.” (2 Ne. 26:29; see also Alma 1:16.) Priestcraft is not a sin that is committed solely on the basis of our desires because it involves acts. Those acts become sinful only when they are done with the wrong desire, to get gain or praise. The sin is in the desire, not in the act."
Priestcraft is committed when we, for our own selfish desires, set ourselves up as a light for others to follow. Our desire is not to lead people to Christ, but is to establish our own following in which we “undertake to cover our sins, or to gratify our pride, our vain ambition, or to exercise control or dominion or compulsion upon the souls of the children of men, in any degree of unrighteousness.”

 The difference between the two mindsets is pretty obvious, and explains a quirky wall-hanging I once observed in a craft shop that said:

  Rules of the House 
  1.  No whining
  2.  No shining

When I read the sign, I immediately thought of Matthew 5:14
Ye are the alight of the world. A city that is set on an hill cannot be hid. Neither do men light a candle, and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick; and it giveth light unto all that are in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.
What, then, does “no shining” mean?

 The scriptures answer the question:
Take heed that ye do not your balms before men, to be seen of them: otherwise ye have no reward of your Father which is in heaven. Therefore when thou doest thine alms, do not sound a trumpet before thee, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may have glory of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward.But when thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth:That thine alms may be in secret: and thy Father which seeth in secret himself shall reward thee openly.
Even if we are not seeking to promote our own interests, the concept of Priesthood vs. Priestcraft still presents us with a very real dilemma. Where does our will and our heart fit into the plan of salvation? If we are sent to earth to do God’s will (and not our own), what does this scripture, found in the Doctrine and Covenants, mean:
For behold, it is not meet that I should command in all things; for he that is compelled in all things, the same is a slothful and not a wise servant; wherefore he receiveth no reward. Verily I say, men should be anxiously engaged in a good cause, and do many things of their own free will, and bring to pass much righteousness; For the power is in them, wherein they are agents unto themselves. And inasmuch as men do good they shall in nowise lose their reward.
Obviously, there is a middle ground in our ministry that must be reached.

 On one hand, we don’t want to become so zealous in our service that we take attention away from Christ and His purposes. (I know….even as I write it, I ask myself: is that possible?)

 On the other hand, we don’t want to become so businesslike and impersonal in our ministry that others can’t feel our love. There is nothing more obnoxious than going through a serious trial and having a person devoid of empathy show up to “do their duty.”

 Here is where it gets kind of complicated.

 During the yesterday’s discussion, I brought up an instance where Katherine and I had been helped by a member of our ward during a particularly difficult time, which I share with Katherine’s permission:

 In September of 2007, Katherine and I went through a miscarriage. We announced the pregnancy early, and, as a result, the miscarriage became common knowledge throughout the ward quickly. Having seen this happen to numerous other people, we were both amazed at how painful the experience turned out to be.

 Several family members immediately reached out to help.

 Then, the Sunday after the miscarriage, a member of our ward approached Katherine and spoke with her after sacrament meeting. This ward member did not know us well, but had experienced several miscarriages of her own. She did not try to make everything better by minimizing Katherine's pain. She did not say” call me if you need anything” Sitting there in that pew, she simply held Katherine’s and wept with her.

 These tears of empathy were the balm of Gilead we needed to get through that day.

 I shared this story as part of the Sunday school discussion to highlight an important aspect of mourning with those that mourn.

 On one hand, we are all capable of helping others in times of trial. In some instances (and I do think there are times when it is not appropriate to get too close), we can reach out in a behind-the-scenes way.

 We can bring dinner, cut the grass, or help out in countless other ways.

 In other instances, we may find ourselves, as did the sister mentioned above, in the role of a specialist.

 Having endured similar problems herself, this sister was able to reach a depth of empathy that was simply not possible for those who have not so suffered. Her response was natural and free-flowing, and was based on “love unfeigned”.

 The spirit of what happened during their brief exchange addresses an important part of overcoming obstacles:

 When hardships come, I think that many of us have a tendency to curl up in a ball.

 It’s kind of a natural spiritual reaction…..like the physical reaction of getting punched in the stomach.

 In those times, it can be difficult to feel the spirit.

 Curling up in a ball is the spiritual equivalent of hardening the heart. Since the Lord’s spirit will not force itself upon us, we have to be actively engaged in the process of our own healing. The first step on this road is to simply soften our hearts.

 I can tell you from this experience that empathy from another person goes a long way in facilitating this process.

To be sure, the Lord does the final act of healing in a way that we cannot hope to imitate, but I like to think we each have an important role in helping the Lord to accomplish his work.

 For example, I once went through a serious bout of clinical depression. At the time, I did not know whether or not I would make it through the darkness. At a critical moment, one of my sisters visited me and told me that if I would just hang on and keep fighting, God would use this experience to empower me to help others.

Her words proved prophetic.

 As a result of that experience, I am able to pick up depression very quickly in people who are suffering. I am able to empathize with their particular struggles on a level that would have been impossible otherwise, and my response to their suffering is intensely personal and completely natural. When I am conversing with someone who is struggling with depression, the word “duty’ doesn’t come to mind. A more appropriate description would be “mission”, because attraction toward that type of suffering is like a magnetic force for those who have been through it.

 After I shard this particular story with the class, a brother sitting a few rows up raised his hand and said he had been thinking a lot about this point of view.

His thinking had led him to the conclusion that, since Christ had suffered all things and could empathize with us on a very deep level, our job should be to simply keep the spirit with us, show up, and sort of “get out of the way” of the healing process.

In the case of those who are called to minister in leadership positions (where the level of experience cannot possibly meet the needs of several hundred members), I am in complete agreement. Many men and women who have served in such a capacity report that they have been able to feel sympathies far beyond their own natural abilities while counciling with members who have serious problems. This ability to empathize is a gift of the spirit that comes with the mantle of the calling.  

When it comes to our everyday efforts to minister to each other,  I also agree that we should keep the spirit of the Lord with us as much as possible. Yet, I was troubled by the implications of this particular take on service, and left the class wondering about the role of my own sympathies and feelings in ministering to others.

 In reaching out to others as “specialists” who have endured particular hardships, are we, in a weird sort of way, committing a form of priestcraft?

 Are we overstepping our bounds and placing ourselves between the Lord and his work?

 Are we drawing attention to ourselves rather than pointing the way to Christ?

 If so, where does that line of thinking stop?

 Am I allowed to have a personal bond with my children, or is that a form of priestcraft?

 Is my love for my wife idol worship?

 These questions may seem silly, but the implications of this well-meaning epilogue to my Sunday school story were disturbing to me.

 When we got home from church, my daughter, Kendall, put in a random DVD that proved to be a good fit for my dilemma. The DVD was a compilation of episodes from a popular TV series that portrayed the exploits of ministering angels in everyday situations. In this particular segment, the ministering angel had been commissioned by a superior officer to perform a certain line of duties for a family under the guise of a nanny. In doing so, the ministering angel uncovered a serious problem in the life of a child. The problem so touched her heart that she stepped in and in tried to bring the dilemma to resolution. In doing so, her efforts served to inflame the situation and actually made it worse. The ministering angel was sharply rebuked - both  by the boy's father and by her commanding superior in the heavenly realm. In a moment of anguish, she fell to her knees, and, through her sobs, asked this important question:

 “God, why did you give me a heart if you didn’t want me to use it?

 The ministering angel then frankly admitted her efforts had created a mess, and asked God to forgive her and, more importantly, to help the little boy.

 The situation was resolved in a way that made two things clear:

 1. God was the one who actually solved the problem by softening hearts and creating circumstances conducive to healing

 2. The ministering angel, despite creating a seemingly chaotic mess, had inadvertently demonstrated the measure of  love that was needed to activate the forces of heaven on behalf of this little boy.

 Though this episode was a bit cheesy, I wiped away a tear at the end of the segment. As a person who is cursed with a strong will, I have long struggled to understand my place in God’s universe. I have enviously watched others who, with seemingly no effort, go with the flow of life without the impairment of strong opinion or self-will. I think there must be a certain amount of selflessness and spiritual maturity in such people that I may never realize. Though I frequent the realm of the spiritually remedial, I am thankful that there is a merciful God. He is patient beyond measure with my particular disposition and weaknesses. More often than not, I end up being that obnoxious kid who always wants to have his hand in something….who thinks his plastic toy lawn mower actually cuts a part of the lawn.

 Deep inside, I know I am not the one who does the mowing, but I like to think that I am somehow helping just the same.

 For me, there is no worse hell than being made to feel useless, and I will admit to feeling a lot of that over the past few years.

 Perhaps the Lord can make use of all of us, no matter our disposition.

 To be sure, we all have a slightly different angle on the gospel.

Some of us approach it from an analytical standpoint. If you think about it, we live in a time where scientific data observations prove what the Lord has known all along:  that living gospel principles makes good sense.

No need for warm-fuzzies or touchy-feelies.....let's just move forward.

I respect that paradigm.

At the same time, I acknowledge others who approach the gospel from a different mindset.

For me, facts and common sense as a stand-alone have a sterility that doesn't quite feel right. I came to the Throne seeking something more than just a sensible path through the eternities.

My angle is summed up perfectly in the question:

 “Why did you give me a heart if you didn’t want me to use it?

Sometimes I get the feeling that some of our more practical brothers and sisters see involvement of the heart or emotions in the line of duty as a sign of weakness or spiritual immaturity.

I worried about that all the way home.

Thanks, Kendall,  for cutting on the TV when we got home from church.

I still have a few questions about how it all  fits together, but I also have a little more understanding about how the Lord weighs in on matters of the heart. The struggles of a fictional ministering angel led me to seek out a passage that might just help me move on to the next row of grassy reality:

"And now abideth faith,

hope,

charity,

these three;

but the greatest of these is charity."


Sunday, January 22, 2012

Safety Inspection Case # 22445619

Recently, I decided to take on a part-time job as a safety inspector to bring in some extra revenue. After enduring several months of intense testing and training, I was officially certified as a safety and security agent and put to work. Thankfully, my first inspection assignment was close to home. Several confidential reports gathered by our intelligence agents indicated that a security company was operating in the Williamsburg area without the proper credentials or licensing. On Sunday, January 22, 2012, I popped in for a visit. This is what I found: The security company, whose name must be kept confidential until litigation has proved professional negligence, was a temporary installation set up to protect a top-secret peanut-butter experiment.
When I arrived at the designated site, I was greeted by the owner of the security outfit.
The owner demanded to see my credentials, and then whisked away my application for an entry pass.
To the untrained eye, everything looked like it was in order. There was a pre-approved guest list on hand to allow the guard easy access to those who were allowed to enter the test site.
A bell was provided so that guests could alert the guard to their presence.
The proper signs and security set-ups were in place.
Closer scrutiny of the premises revealed that there was an unauthorized imposter taking part in the peanut butter experiment (no doubt collecting data for foreign intelligence).
Another imposter was located trying to photograph classified information.
Several other security infractions were noted: Unattended boiling water: Fine of $10,000 dollars and up to 1 month incarceration.
Dirty knife in sink: Fine of $50,000 and up to one year hard labor
No ID number listed for imposter who was trying to photograph top-secret documents: $100,000 fine
As I was about to write the appropriate citations and haul the security owner out of the kitchen in cuffs, she began to search frantically through the files of security protocols to prove that she was not in error.
Through crafty words and expert knowledge of protocol loopholes, this diabolical criminal mastermind was able to confound all of my charges and skip off to the living room to watch TV. Since this time, more information has been gathered that will put these shady characters away in hard labor camps to pay for their crimes. Anyone having information as to their whereabouts can contact me in Matthew's bedroom....er...I mean, my office, for a hefty reward. All three subjects are known to be armed and extremely dangerous, so please use caution when attempting to apprehend them.