Well, you can't say I don't try to take on big topics. I was prompted to consider this subject--godly character, change of heart, and forgiveness of sins--when I read an article on Patheos by Francis J. Beckwith titled "Better to be an adulterer than a Mormon?: Evangelicals, Gingrich, and Romney" (http://www.patheos.com/blogs/returntorome/2012/01/better-to-be-an-adulterer-than-a-mormon-evangelicals-gingrich-and-romney/#comment-57152). Beckwith reflects on a visit to Utah including discussions with faculty at BYU and with the LDS Public Affairs office in Salt Lake. Beckwith is sympathetic with the idea that moral character may count for more in a president than correct theology or even the status (according to a given theology) of being "forgiven."
One reader, Michael Bauman, left a comment questioning Beckwith's stance and suggesting that, if God forgives and regenerates a sinner, then past sins should not disqualify someone from being president--a position I pretty much agree with. Otherwise, what would all the parables about the lost sheep, the lost coin, and the prodigal son mean--not to mention Christ's statement, "Neither do I condemn thee; go thy way and sin no more"? But Bauman thinks either that Catholic forgiveness is superior to other kinds of forgiveness or that--even if people are equally forgiven in God's eyes--being a Catholic and having an understanding of Catholic theology would make someone a better president. As he puts it, "All other things being equal, it's better to be a forgiven Catholic . . . than a forgiven Mormon . . ."
Reading the article and the comment prompted me to add a comment of my own--a rather long one, which I reproduce here:
Obviously the questions raised in this article are complicated. For instance, what factors make for the best president? The truest and most nuanced theological understanding? The best moral character? Will the best president be the person theoretically (according to one's theology) most likely justified in God's eyes, despite serious character flaws? And then there are factors less tied to theology, like leadership skills, knowledge of domestic and international issues, experience, etc.
The story about an Evangelical Protestant preferring an adulterer or a murderer over a Mormon likely includes the proviso, "As long as the adulterer or murderer has confessed Christ as his Savior." In the view of many Evangelicals, such a confession--either before or after the adultery or murder--would guarantee justification and salvation, on the grounds of "once saved, always saved" (also known as "the perseverance of the saints").
I'm not Roman Catholic, but it appears from the comment made by Michael Bauman that a murderer or adulterer who has been absolved by priestly authority would, in the Catholic view, be better off than a non-Catholic who had never committed those sins or who had committed them and repented but lacked absolution.
Here's my problem with both the Evangelical and the Catholic response: does notional and even emotional reliance on Christ (as expressed in the Evangelical acceptance of Christ as Savior) guarantee a change of heart? does going through the actions of confession and penance and receiving official absolution guarantee a change of heart? And is God interested in such a change of heart, perhaps even more than simple freedom from sin? Could it be that the means either Evangelicals or Catholics propose for obtaining forgiveness are valuable in God's eyes primarily as a way of starting someone on the path toward that change of heart? And--back to politics--is a regenerate heart more important in a president than correct theology or even than officially "absolved" or "saved" status?
I'm sure many Evangelicals would agree that merely assenting to Christ's role as your Savior doesn't finish the process God intends. And I assume absolution is not, in the view of thoughtful Roman Catholics, merely a magical action that changes a person without any serious engagement on their part. If the state of a person's heart is what ultimately matters, then none of us really knows to what extent any of the candidates have obtained divine forgiveness or how far along they are in the process of becoming what God would like them to be.
A few final questions. Do Evangelicals and Catholics believe that non-Evangelicals and non-Catholics--perhaps even Mormons--can experience peace with God, forgiveness of sin, and improvement of character, even without what they consider a correct theological understanding or (in the Catholic view) without priestly absolution?
If such absolution is required, then no non-Catholic can claim to be forgiven of past sins. Michael Bauman suggests, though, that there might be such a being as "a forgiven Mormon." If that means someone forgiven according to the Mormon view, then that would be someone who has faith in Christ, has sincerely repented (meaning changed in outlook and behavior), and is seeking to be obedient to God's commandments--all of this accomplished with God's enabling grace, leading to forgiveness of sins and change of heart through God's redeeming grace. This process is nicely summed up in the Mormon belief that Christ will save people FROM their sins, not IN their sins [see Alma 11:37; Helaman 5:10]. Is such an understanding theologically correct--or close enough--from an Evangelical or Catholic point of view? And how does its correctness or lack of correctness translate into reality? In other words, do Evangelicals and Catholics believe that Mormons who engage in the process I've described can really be forgiven?
For political purposes, the point of these questions is this: Can we know--without knowing the hearts of the candidates--who among them, Protestant, Catholic, or Mormon, is really forgiven in God's eyes and, beyond simply having been absolved of past sins, which of them has the godliest character?
Showing posts with label Church (The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints). Show all posts
Showing posts with label Church (The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints). Show all posts
Friday, January 20, 2012
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Books I've read lately
My wife's been noting that I haven't posted anything lately on my blog. So here's an attempt to give her--and anyone else interested--something fresh to read. And I mean not just what I've posted here, but the books I've posted about.
On the Road With Joseph Smith: An Author's Diary by Richard L. Bushman
A short but fascinating book by an eminent historian (Bancroft prizewinner, emeritus Columbia University professor--also was my stake president when I first went to Harvard). It's mainly in the form of a diary he wrote after the publication of Rough Stone Rolling, his biography of Joseph Smith. The diary is not so much about his writing of the biography, though he does reflect some on that, as it is about the aftermath--book tours, lectures, his reactions to reviews in the New York Times, The New York Review of Books, and other publications. But most of all it's a reflection--wise, profound, stimulating--about how a scholarly attempt to be "objective" and at the same time true to one's deepest convictions runs up against ingrained preconceptions in one's readers. People, including academics, writers, and book reviewers, who pride themselves on their fidelity to "objective truth" can be among the most rigid in refusing to consider possible realities that don't fit within their paradigms.
What I loved best about this book, though, was Bushman's candor and humility. He comes across as absolutely human, talking about his moods, his questions and beliefs, and his struggles to be honest, spiritually receptive, and good (I love his daily mantra: "Today I will be a follower of Jesus Christ").
The diary also amounts to a kind of survey of the religious/intellectual landscape of early 21st-century America. There are references to Bushman's interactions with all sorts of individuals and institutions--various universities (from Columbia to MIT to Notre Dame to BYU to Stanford), scholarly organizations, radio and Internet interviewers, publishers, newspapers and magazines (from Newsweek to the Christian Science Monitor), the Library of Congress, LDS General Authorities, and religious and non-religious folks of various stripes (including an eminent evangelical scholar, Catholics, Protestants, Jews, and non-believers). In the course of almost a year he spent writing the diary, he traveled (from his base in New York City) to Utah, California, Idaho, Washington state, Wyoming, Montana, Massachusetts, Missouri, Illinois, Indiana, Louisiana, Texas, Georgia, New Jersey, and elsewhere.
Among the many others mentioned are people that I (or in some cases my wife) know--Jim Lucas (a former roommate), Bushman's wife and kids, Curt Bench (a bookseller), Molly Bennion, Newell Bringhurst, Grant Underwood, Ariel Bybee, Jana Riess, Marlin K. Jensen, Jeffrey R. Holland, Clayton Christiansen, Terryl Givens, the Frandsens (of La Canada, CA), Marcus Smith (with KBYU-FM), Cory Maxwell, Robert L. Millet, Jeff Needle, Hugh Nibley, Cherry and Barnard Silver, Andrew Delbanco (who was at Harvard when I was there), and indirectly Walter Jackson Bate (I was his assistant--Bushman refers to his biography of Samuel Johnson as a model). Those personal connections were an added bonus in a book that, even without those, would have been one of the most humane and thought provoking I've read in some time.
P.S.: You can find the book's concluding comment online at http://www.historycooperative.org/journals/cp/vol-07/no-01/author/.
A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter M. Miller Jr.
I just finished this book, which was recommended by my son Rob. It's a remarkable book, well written, imaginative, deeply thought provoking. Though often classified as science fiction, it really transcends that genre. The term "speculative fiction" works better: the book imagines a post-apocalyptic future in three stages, but with recurring themes and symbols. Besides presenting, often with subtle humor and biting irony, a number of striking characters and incidents, the book is drenched with philosophical, ethical, and religious implications, and comments (through the events and the characters) on science, technology, politics, history, and lots of other things. The author skillfully depicts individual stories but sets them in a large-scale global and historical context so that the drama involves the fate of civilizations and even of humanity, as well as of individuals.
For me, the author's apparent point of view became a little too obvious near the end, but for the most part the ideas in the book are dramatized, not preached, allowing readers to grapple with the ideas without feeling pressured toward a particular conclusion. Another intriguing thing about the book, from my point of view, is that it begins with a character named "Brother Francis Gerard of Utah" (I live in Utah), associated with a monastery which seeks to preserve learning after a period of nuclear destruction and subsequent social chaos. I look forward to the sequel Saint Leibowitz and the Wild Horse Woman, which apparently further explores events taking place between parts 2 and 3 of the earlier book.
View all my reviews.
On the Road With Joseph Smith: An Author's Diary by Richard L. BushmanMy review
rating: 5 of 5 starsA short but fascinating book by an eminent historian (Bancroft prizewinner, emeritus Columbia University professor--also was my stake president when I first went to Harvard). It's mainly in the form of a diary he wrote after the publication of Rough Stone Rolling, his biography of Joseph Smith. The diary is not so much about his writing of the biography, though he does reflect some on that, as it is about the aftermath--book tours, lectures, his reactions to reviews in the New York Times, The New York Review of Books, and other publications. But most of all it's a reflection--wise, profound, stimulating--about how a scholarly attempt to be "objective" and at the same time true to one's deepest convictions runs up against ingrained preconceptions in one's readers. People, including academics, writers, and book reviewers, who pride themselves on their fidelity to "objective truth" can be among the most rigid in refusing to consider possible realities that don't fit within their paradigms.
What I loved best about this book, though, was Bushman's candor and humility. He comes across as absolutely human, talking about his moods, his questions and beliefs, and his struggles to be honest, spiritually receptive, and good (I love his daily mantra: "Today I will be a follower of Jesus Christ").
The diary also amounts to a kind of survey of the religious/intellectual landscape of early 21st-century America. There are references to Bushman's interactions with all sorts of individuals and institutions--various universities (from Columbia to MIT to Notre Dame to BYU to Stanford), scholarly organizations, radio and Internet interviewers, publishers, newspapers and magazines (from Newsweek to the Christian Science Monitor), the Library of Congress, LDS General Authorities, and religious and non-religious folks of various stripes (including an eminent evangelical scholar, Catholics, Protestants, Jews, and non-believers). In the course of almost a year he spent writing the diary, he traveled (from his base in New York City) to Utah, California, Idaho, Washington state, Wyoming, Montana, Massachusetts, Missouri, Illinois, Indiana, Louisiana, Texas, Georgia, New Jersey, and elsewhere.
Among the many others mentioned are people that I (or in some cases my wife) know--Jim Lucas (a former roommate), Bushman's wife and kids, Curt Bench (a bookseller), Molly Bennion, Newell Bringhurst, Grant Underwood, Ariel Bybee, Jana Riess, Marlin K. Jensen, Jeffrey R. Holland, Clayton Christiansen, Terryl Givens, the Frandsens (of La Canada, CA), Marcus Smith (with KBYU-FM), Cory Maxwell, Robert L. Millet, Jeff Needle, Hugh Nibley, Cherry and Barnard Silver, Andrew Delbanco (who was at Harvard when I was there), and indirectly Walter Jackson Bate (I was his assistant--Bushman refers to his biography of Samuel Johnson as a model). Those personal connections were an added bonus in a book that, even without those, would have been one of the most humane and thought provoking I've read in some time.
P.S.: You can find the book's concluding comment online at http://www.historycooperative.org/journals/cp/vol-07/no-01/author/.
A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter M. Miller Jr.My review
rating: 4 of 5 starsI just finished this book, which was recommended by my son Rob. It's a remarkable book, well written, imaginative, deeply thought provoking. Though often classified as science fiction, it really transcends that genre. The term "speculative fiction" works better: the book imagines a post-apocalyptic future in three stages, but with recurring themes and symbols. Besides presenting, often with subtle humor and biting irony, a number of striking characters and incidents, the book is drenched with philosophical, ethical, and religious implications, and comments (through the events and the characters) on science, technology, politics, history, and lots of other things. The author skillfully depicts individual stories but sets them in a large-scale global and historical context so that the drama involves the fate of civilizations and even of humanity, as well as of individuals.
For me, the author's apparent point of view became a little too obvious near the end, but for the most part the ideas in the book are dramatized, not preached, allowing readers to grapple with the ideas without feeling pressured toward a particular conclusion. Another intriguing thing about the book, from my point of view, is that it begins with a character named "Brother Francis Gerard of Utah" (I live in Utah), associated with a monastery which seeks to preserve learning after a period of nuclear destruction and subsequent social chaos. I look forward to the sequel Saint Leibowitz and the Wild Horse Woman, which apparently further explores events taking place between parts 2 and 3 of the earlier book.
View all my reviews.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
A time of transitions
I admit it's been difficult to add a new post, not only because I've been busy (as usual), but because I've enjoyed knowing I could go to my blog and see first thing a picture of the beautiful Obama family. But time passes, and newer memories need to take their place alongside older ones.
The present is a brief list of some of what has happened over the past two months.
In mid-November Margaret went to yet another film festival (this one in St. George); later in the month we had birthday celebrations for Kaila and Julie; Julie started a new job with the "kid's club" at 24 Hour Fitness gym; and we got a new cell phone family plan, which means that Misha and I now have cell phones of our own. We had a delightful Thanksgiving, combining traditional foods with some Greek dishes that Julie prepared.
In early December I had my C. S. Lewis class over to see the movie Shadowlands (I do this just about every year); and on December 14, we had a Young family party, allowing all of us in Utah (my family, the Tucketts, the Lifferths, Daren and Steve, and Grandpa Young) to spend time together and giving Grandpa Young a chance to see his Lifferth great-grandchildren before they moved. As the month proceeded, Fall Semester came to an end,
and we had a wonderful Christmas, visiting with family, sharing gifts (including the very popular "Guitar Hero"), and remembering the glorious truths that the holiday commemorates. (In the photo to the left, Misha, Julie, and Rob line up outside our bedroom door, youngest to oldest--as is our tradition--to find their stockings and presents surrounding our fireplace.)
Christmas offered a brief break in the arduous grading process I have to finish up every semester. On the very day I turned in grades (December 30), my first copies of the book I've been working on for years arrived. (See the blog on "Finishing my book" below.) Besides the milestone of my book's publication (Family Life in the Age of Shakespeare--they've actually given it a 2009 copyright date), the last couple of months also mark the completion of a further stage of Margaret's documentary (Nobody Know: The Untold Story of Black Mormons)--special features for the DVD. Margaret and those she's working with (mainly Darius Gray and Jim Hughes) are hoping to release the DVD soon, and they've been working on having the documentary broadcast.
Two more major transitions took place before the end of the year. On December 28, Margaret and I were moved to a different branch at the MTC (Branch 45, also French-speaking)--a move that proved to be more difficult for us than we had anticipated because of our strong attachment to the missionaries we've been working with. But we're beginning to bond with the missionaries in our new branch and look forward to enjoying the new branch as much as we have the old one. Finally, on December 31, Kaila and her family moved to Indiana. I had the honor of picking them up at 5am and taking them to the airport. They're now staying in a hotel in Columbus, Indiana; will soon move into an apartment; and will be looking for a house.
A word on the Young family party on December 14: Besides allowing us to get together, the party turned out to be in part a commemoration of Grandma Young--my mother Ruth. Daren made chocolate chip cookies, using the recipe that we trace back to our Grandma Wilson, my mother's mother. (I plan on posting the recipe soon.) He also made the chex mix that our mother had often made for family events. And I brought a picture of her (along with her reminiscences of teaching at BY High) that I had gotten from a BY High web site. (I found a photo too--copied below--at a related site.)
As we noted at the beginning of our yearly Christmas quiz,
this has been a year of "hard exits, joyous entrances, and many transitions. We grieved the passing of Bruce's baby sister, Lynda, in April, and of his mother, Ruth, in July. Only six and a half weeks after Ruth died, we welcomed our third grandbaby into the world--Oliver Wallace Lifferth." And now we have to deal with the fact that the Lifferths--Kaila and family--are many miles and many hours away in Indiana. Though I find all of these changes and separations difficult, I believe what I've often said about this sort of thing (elaborating on an idea I picked up from Arthur Henry King): these things must be part of the plan; for one thing, if it were not for these separations, we maybe wouldn't realize how much we love each other, how deeply connected we are.
For our year-in-review Christmas quiz, see http://english2.byu.edu/faculty/youngb/christmas2008.htm--where you can take the quiz and have it automatically scored!
The present is a brief list of some of what has happened over the past two months.
In mid-November Margaret went to yet another film festival (this one in St. George); later in the month we had birthday celebrations for Kaila and Julie; Julie started a new job with the "kid's club" at 24 Hour Fitness gym; and we got a new cell phone family plan, which means that Misha and I now have cell phones of our own. We had a delightful Thanksgiving, combining traditional foods with some Greek dishes that Julie prepared.
In early December I had my C. S. Lewis class over to see the movie Shadowlands (I do this just about every year); and on December 14, we had a Young family party, allowing all of us in Utah (my family, the Tucketts, the Lifferths, Daren and Steve, and Grandpa Young) to spend time together and giving Grandpa Young a chance to see his Lifferth great-grandchildren before they moved. As the month proceeded, Fall Semester came to an end,
and we had a wonderful Christmas, visiting with family, sharing gifts (including the very popular "Guitar Hero"), and remembering the glorious truths that the holiday commemorates. (In the photo to the left, Misha, Julie, and Rob line up outside our bedroom door, youngest to oldest--as is our tradition--to find their stockings and presents surrounding our fireplace.)Christmas offered a brief break in the arduous grading process I have to finish up every semester. On the very day I turned in grades (December 30), my first copies of the book I've been working on for years arrived. (See the blog on "Finishing my book" below.) Besides the milestone of my book's publication (Family Life in the Age of Shakespeare--they've actually given it a 2009 copyright date), the last couple of months also mark the completion of a further stage of Margaret's documentary (Nobody Know: The Untold Story of Black Mormons)--special features for the DVD. Margaret and those she's working with (mainly Darius Gray and Jim Hughes) are hoping to release the DVD soon, and they've been working on having the documentary broadcast.
Two more major transitions took place before the end of the year. On December 28, Margaret and I were moved to a different branch at the MTC (Branch 45, also French-speaking)--a move that proved to be more difficult for us than we had anticipated because of our strong attachment to the missionaries we've been working with. But we're beginning to bond with the missionaries in our new branch and look forward to enjoying the new branch as much as we have the old one. Finally, on December 31, Kaila and her family moved to Indiana. I had the honor of picking them up at 5am and taking them to the airport. They're now staying in a hotel in Columbus, Indiana; will soon move into an apartment; and will be looking for a house.
A word on the Young family party on December 14: Besides allowing us to get together, the party turned out to be in part a commemoration of Grandma Young--my mother Ruth. Daren made chocolate chip cookies, using the recipe that we trace back to our Grandma Wilson, my mother's mother. (I plan on posting the recipe soon.) He also made the chex mix that our mother had often made for family events. And I brought a picture of her (along with her reminiscences of teaching at BY High) that I had gotten from a BY High web site. (I found a photo too--copied below--at a related site.)
As we noted at the beginning of our yearly Christmas quiz,
this has been a year of "hard exits, joyous entrances, and many transitions. We grieved the passing of Bruce's baby sister, Lynda, in April, and of his mother, Ruth, in July. Only six and a half weeks after Ruth died, we welcomed our third grandbaby into the world--Oliver Wallace Lifferth." And now we have to deal with the fact that the Lifferths--Kaila and family--are many miles and many hours away in Indiana. Though I find all of these changes and separations difficult, I believe what I've often said about this sort of thing (elaborating on an idea I picked up from Arthur Henry King): these things must be part of the plan; for one thing, if it were not for these separations, we maybe wouldn't realize how much we love each other, how deeply connected we are.For our year-in-review Christmas quiz, see http://english2.byu.edu/faculty/youngb/christmas2008.htm--where you can take the quiz and have it automatically scored!
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
A trip to the San Francisco Black Film Festival
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Some of you who haven't been paying attention might wonder why Margaret and I would fly to California for the San Francisco Black Film Festival. The reason of course is that Margaret helped create a documentary ("Nobody Knows: The Untold Story of Black Mormons") that was featured at the festival. In fact, three of us went: besides Margaret and me, Darius Gray, the other main force behind the documentary. I came along in part because we figured out that I had enough frequent flyer miles that I could basically go for free--or for no more than a $5 fee. And since I love San Francisco and love traveling with Margaret, it seemed like an obviously great thing to do.One problem: After we had booked our tickets, I got word from my editor that my book on Shakespeare needed to be finished by June 23--about a week after our planned return from San Francisco. Margaret and I decided I should come anyway, not only because we had already used up frequent flyer miles to get my ticket, but because it might provide a welcome break from the intense effort we knew I would have to be putting in to meet the deadline.
The three of us left together on the evening of June 12 and were picked up at the San Francisco airport by Ron McClain, a remarkable man who lives with his family in Oakland. (We stayed with the McClains during our time in California.) Brother McClain has been serving as a director of Church Public Affairs; I believe he's also a temple sealer. And to round things off, once upon a time, before joining the Church, he was a Black Panther.
[See Margaret's comment on this entry for one episode I forgot to mention: running into some of our MTC missionaries at the Salt Lake Airport--on their way back from a visit to San Francisco to get visas.]
Friday, June 13, Margaret and I took BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) into San Francisco and walked about 7 or 8 miles seeing the sights. It was a lovely day--sunny (I got a bit sunburnt) but not too hot. Most of the neighborhoods we walked through were beautiful, with lots of flowers (including bouganvillea). We started by dropping a copy of the documentary off at the Museum of the African Diaspora, where it would be shown the following day, then walked to some historic sites and museums, including a museum in the Bank of California with Kirtland Safety Society banknotes signed by Brigham Young and others and a Wells Fargo museum with lots of interesting things about stage coaches and other aspects of the old West. We walked through Chinatown, then found Portsmouth Square, now filled with Chinese men (playing mah jong, we think) but once the center of old San Francisco. The American flag was first hoisted in this square. Sam Brannan, who started the first newspaper in the city, walk down the street near here announcing the discovering of gold. Robert Louis Stevenson used to hang out in the square, and there's now a monument to him.
We continued walking to Coit Tower, a fascinating building rising from a high point in this hilly city--and also mentioned in an episode or two of the TV show Monk. I took the eleva
tor to the top and had a magnificent view of the city. After leaving Coit Tower, we saw Lombard Street from a distance (famous for being impossible zigzaggy) and walked to Ghirardelli Square--we smelled chocolate in the air as we approached and then got free samples at the Ghirardelli factory store. We proceeded to Fisherman's Wharf, had a seafood lunch, and then continued to the pier from which a ferry departs for Alcatraz, only to find it was all booked up for the next couple of days. We ended up deciding to wait till another trip to San Francisco some day to visit Alcatraz.Saturday was the day Margaret's documentary was shown at the film festival. While she and Darius made sure things were ready, I did a bit more sightseeing (in the Mission District), and after the showing, while they were filming an interview for "special features" when the documentary is released as a DVD, I walked up Columbus Avenue to see a couple of spots recommended by Margaret's San Francisco friend Connell (actually the very person they were interviewing). I stopped in the City Lights Bookstore, famous as the place where Allen Ginsberg read "Howl" and for other associations with the Beat writers. Then I went to XOX Truffles and bought a variety of some of the best chocolate truffles known to humankind. That evening Margaret, Darius, and I went out to dinner with Steve Evans and his wife--Steve Evans being one of the major Mormon bloggers (it would require another paragraph to explain that phenomenon).
As for the documentary itself, it was a great success, showing to a sell out crowd and followed by a question-answer period that revealed how deeply engaged the viewers had been--viewers with quite various backgrounds, some Latter-day Saints, most not, some black, some white. I made it to the museum in time to see the last part of the documentary (I've seen it in its entirety quite a number of times) and to listen to the question-answer period. I also chatted with some of those who had attended and gave a passalong card and the articles of faith to a woman who said she had been to Ghana a couple of times and had been fascinated on her most recent visit to learn that lots of people there are joining the Mormon Church. She wondered what they found so appealing and wanted to know more. I gave her the cards and suggested they would provide a way to make contact with the Church and pursue her interest. There was such a strong spirit--THE Spirit was so strong--that it didn't feel awkward or hard at all to share what I believe and feel and care about. It occurred to me later: "A perfect love casts out all fear."
A young man named Freud was in charge of the equipment and had been frustrated by some serious technical problems as things were being set up. In response to his rough edges, Darius befriended him, and he--Freud--was so impressed by the film that he asked if his wife could see it. Yes, he was told, it would be shown the next day in Oakland. Ron McClain had arranged to have it shown at the Visitor's Center of the Oakland Temple; as interest grew, it was moved to the adjacent stake center--with care taken to make clear it was not being sponsored by the Church.
On Sunday evening, a great crowd came, mostly members but also Freud and his wife, as well as a woman scheduled to be baptized within the week, as I remember. The local mission president and his wife were also there. Again, the Spirit was very strong. The question-answer period showed again how deeply engaged people were. Between the showing and the question-answer period I had noticed Freud and his wife going out to the parking lot. Afraid they were leaving, I gave Freud a hug and thanked him for coming. He said they were coming back in; they were just taking something out to their car. During the question-answer period, someone asked how the film had been received at the film festival. Margaret turned the question over to Freud, who stood in that Mormon chapel and said that it was very well received by a sell-out crowd and that they considered it "one of the gems of the festival." Bridges of understanding and love were built that weekend. It amazes me to think how quickly and how strongly bonded we felt with people we had never known before, with people very different from us, at least in superficial ways. Something deep in our common humanity had been touched.
Margaret and I had decided that it would be in my best interest to do no more sightseeing on Monday. While she went into the city to a modern art museum and other sights, I stayed at the McClains' with my laptop, working all day on my book. I had also been working on it during our flight to San Francisco and at various moments on the other days. Though arguably, the trip had cost me a day and a half I would otherwise have had to work on the book, I believe that in some ways the trip saved me. I had become so tense, so wound up, that a breakdown of some kind was a real possibility. The trip--besides being wonderful in its own right--was refreshing, renewing, gave me perspective.
P.S.: This was also the weekend that Tim Russert died. We watched some of tributes broadcast about him. We were moved by his goodness and impressed by his abilities. We felt genuine loss at his death.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Less important, but . . .
I'm going to start with a brief report on the less important things I've been doing over the past few months. (Interesting that the "less important" things include my job.) Winter Semester I taught a graduate course on "Shakespeare and Religion" and an undergraduate world literature class that included some of my favorites--King Lear, Tartuffe, Faust, The Brothers Karamazov, The Waste Land, and Things Fall Apart, among many others. Spring Term I taught an undergraduate Shakespeare class, with the help of an assistant (Amanda Erdmann), who did a wonderful job. Because I was still trudging away on my book, I greatly appreciated having a TA--not something I usually have for this course.
As English Department ombudsman, I get to deal with problems involving students and their teachers. I try to help the parties resolve things or at least (I hope) not make things worse.
Shakespeare Association of America meetings were in Dallas this year. I roomed with a former student, Vernon Dickson, who is now teaching in Florida. Among the highlights were seeing two foreign Shakespearean adaptations--an Indian film titled Maqbool, giving Macbeth a modern Bombay gangster twist, and a highly transformed version of Hamlet set in medieval China. I took part in a stimulating seminar on character criticism in Shakespeare. Since the seminar leaders are trying to get a book collection published, drawing on the seminar, I have the assignment of revising my paper by August 1. If you're interested, you can look at the paper in PDF or Word format by clicking on the highlighted words in this sentence.
One of the most memorable things about the past six or seven months has been taking part in the excitement of American politics. Margaret had been a fan of Barack Obama's for some time, after reading his autobiography, Dreams from My Father. I was leaning toward Bill Richardson, partly because of his audacious but well thought out ideas for dealing with Iraq, partly because of his experience, partly because he's quite funny--or at least the video clip introducing him was. But at some point in January, I became an Obama supporter as well. Tuesday evenings became especially memorable. I stayed at my office until time to go to devotional at the Missionary Training Center (speaking of which, Margaret and I have continued to enjoy our work there with the missionaries). Depending on the time zone of a given week's primary, I might have some idea who was winning before I left for the MTC. But usually I'd find out as I drove home around 9:15 or 9:30 at night. Then Margaret and I would watch the returns on TV. Mornings were fun with "Morning Joe"--an early morning talk show that focused on the political races. The Colbert Report help liven things up with spoofs. And Margaret often watched Countdown with Keith Olbermann, who gets a bit rough but who can be entertaining too.
We didn't entirely neglect the Republicans, but of course, they wound down much earlier. I know Mitt Romney and came to his defense with a couple of postings, including one on a rather disturbing site called "Pastors4Huckabee," where a pastor explained why true Christians should never vote for a Mormon. I preferred the Mitt Romney I knew when I was in graduate school in Massachusetts--even the one who saved the Olympics. The one who presented himself as a candidate from 2007 to early 2008 had become a bit too right wing and mean-spirited for my tastes. But I still find him likable--especially when he's not being political.
I got so excited about the primaries (the Democratic ones, anyway) that I ended up making phone calls to Texas and North Carolina, posting comments on various sites, contacting a superdelegate (Deb Kozikowski in Massachusetts), and even starting a new blog (Election 2008: My Views on Issues and Candidates). I'm the chair of my local precinct (we're talking about a handful of people involved within the precinct). I was a delegate to the Utah County convention (we have an incredibly good set of candidates in Utah County--I think they could even get elected if people get to know them). I thought I was a state convention delegate and went to the convention. But it turns out someone else had been elected (I had not been able to stay for the whole meeting where state delegates were selected). I had been confused by the fact that I was receiving e-mails from a bunch of people asking me to vote for them at the convention. I apparently got on an e-mail list of state delegates. Finding myself not on the list once I got to the convention in Salt Lake was disappointing of course. But I gathered up some free political items (bumper stickers, etc.) and ran into Rod Decker, a reporter whose sister Jeanne Griffiths is a friend of mine. I reminded him that I had met him at his sister's place in Virginia many years ago (almost 20, I think), and he remembered me. Even more, he remembered an essay I had written talking about my courtship and marriage. The guy has quite a memory.
Being political has been a challenge. Since I'm no longer in a stake presidency, I felt I could finally put a bumper sticker on my car. But I was hesitant about doing it because I knew some people at the MTC might be traumatized seeing an Obama sticker in the parking lot. I didn't get to choose whether to put on a bumper sticker, though--my 16-year-old son Misha decided to put it on for me ("I thought you wanted to put it on, Dad"). I invented a way (using cardboard and dental floss) to cover the sticker while at the MTC. But I've stopped doing that since Charlotte England told me not to worry--and to be a bit braver and more gutsy.
My mother was a Hillary Clinton fan--something my wife and I were definitely not. But as it became clear that Obama was going to take the nomination, my mother became reconciled. Of course, as the political season died down and she became seriously ill, politics became much less important to us.
One more recent event of interest: BYU's radio station--KBYU-FM--has a wonderful program started by Marcus Smith and titled "Thinking Aloud." Marcus invited Steve Walker (another English Department member) and me to converse with him about C. S. Lewis. The conversation was recorded on July 3 and broadcast on July 10--at the exact time of my mother's funeral. I think my mother would have been pleased, though I hope she was listening in on the funeral rather than the radio broadcast. It was rebroadcast at 8pm that night, and Margaret and I listened to see how it sounded. You can also listen online, anytime--to download the program as a "podcast" if you go here: http://www.byub.org/podcast/ (I haven't figured out quite how it works, though). Here's an easier link (thanks to one of my readers): http://byubmp3.byu.edu/fmarchive/thinkingaloud/ta080710.mp3 If you click on this one, you can listen directly.
In a day or two, I'll try to move on to some of the more important items of the past few months.
As English Department ombudsman, I get to deal with problems involving students and their teachers. I try to help the parties resolve things or at least (I hope) not make things worse.
Shakespeare Association of America meetings were in Dallas this year. I roomed with a former student, Vernon Dickson, who is now teaching in Florida. Among the highlights were seeing two foreign Shakespearean adaptations--an Indian film titled Maqbool, giving Macbeth a modern Bombay gangster twist, and a highly transformed version of Hamlet set in medieval China. I took part in a stimulating seminar on character criticism in Shakespeare. Since the seminar leaders are trying to get a book collection published, drawing on the seminar, I have the assignment of revising my paper by August 1. If you're interested, you can look at the paper in PDF or Word format by clicking on the highlighted words in this sentence.
One of the most memorable things about the past six or seven months has been taking part in the excitement of American politics. Margaret had been a fan of Barack Obama's for some time, after reading his autobiography, Dreams from My Father. I was leaning toward Bill Richardson, partly because of his audacious but well thought out ideas for dealing with Iraq, partly because of his experience, partly because he's quite funny--or at least the video clip introducing him was. But at some point in January, I became an Obama supporter as well. Tuesday evenings became especially memorable. I stayed at my office until time to go to devotional at the Missionary Training Center (speaking of which, Margaret and I have continued to enjoy our work there with the missionaries). Depending on the time zone of a given week's primary, I might have some idea who was winning before I left for the MTC. But usually I'd find out as I drove home around 9:15 or 9:30 at night. Then Margaret and I would watch the returns on TV. Mornings were fun with "Morning Joe"--an early morning talk show that focused on the political races. The Colbert Report help liven things up with spoofs. And Margaret often watched Countdown with Keith Olbermann, who gets a bit rough but who can be entertaining too.
We didn't entirely neglect the Republicans, but of course, they wound down much earlier. I know Mitt Romney and came to his defense with a couple of postings, including one on a rather disturbing site called "Pastors4Huckabee," where a pastor explained why true Christians should never vote for a Mormon. I preferred the Mitt Romney I knew when I was in graduate school in Massachusetts--even the one who saved the Olympics. The one who presented himself as a candidate from 2007 to early 2008 had become a bit too right wing and mean-spirited for my tastes. But I still find him likable--especially when he's not being political.
I got so excited about the primaries (the Democratic ones, anyway) that I ended up making phone calls to Texas and North Carolina, posting comments on various sites, contacting a superdelegate (Deb Kozikowski in Massachusetts), and even starting a new blog (Election 2008: My Views on Issues and Candidates). I'm the chair of my local precinct (we're talking about a handful of people involved within the precinct). I was a delegate to the Utah County convention (we have an incredibly good set of candidates in Utah County--I think they could even get elected if people get to know them). I thought I was a state convention delegate and went to the convention. But it turns out someone else had been elected (I had not been able to stay for the whole meeting where state delegates were selected). I had been confused by the fact that I was receiving e-mails from a bunch of people asking me to vote for them at the convention. I apparently got on an e-mail list of state delegates. Finding myself not on the list once I got to the convention in Salt Lake was disappointing of course. But I gathered up some free political items (bumper stickers, etc.) and ran into Rod Decker, a reporter whose sister Jeanne Griffiths is a friend of mine. I reminded him that I had met him at his sister's place in Virginia many years ago (almost 20, I think), and he remembered me. Even more, he remembered an essay I had written talking about my courtship and marriage. The guy has quite a memory.
Being political has been a challenge. Since I'm no longer in a stake presidency, I felt I could finally put a bumper sticker on my car. But I was hesitant about doing it because I knew some people at the MTC might be traumatized seeing an Obama sticker in the parking lot. I didn't get to choose whether to put on a bumper sticker, though--my 16-year-old son Misha decided to put it on for me ("I thought you wanted to put it on, Dad"). I invented a way (using cardboard and dental floss) to cover the sticker while at the MTC. But I've stopped doing that since Charlotte England told me not to worry--and to be a bit braver and more gutsy.
My mother was a Hillary Clinton fan--something my wife and I were definitely not. But as it became clear that Obama was going to take the nomination, my mother became reconciled. Of course, as the political season died down and she became seriously ill, politics became much less important to us.
One more recent event of interest: BYU's radio station--KBYU-FM--has a wonderful program started by Marcus Smith and titled "Thinking Aloud." Marcus invited Steve Walker (another English Department member) and me to converse with him about C. S. Lewis. The conversation was recorded on July 3 and broadcast on July 10--at the exact time of my mother's funeral. I think my mother would have been pleased, though I hope she was listening in on the funeral rather than the radio broadcast. It was rebroadcast at 8pm that night, and Margaret and I listened to see how it sounded. You can also listen online, anytime--to download the program as a "podcast" if you go here: http://www.byub.org/podcast/ (I haven't figured out quite how it works, though). Here's an easier link (thanks to one of my readers): http://byubmp3.byu.edu/fmarchive/thinkingaloud/ta080710.mp3 If you click on this one, you can listen directly.
In a day or two, I'll try to move on to some of the more important items of the past few months.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
The Problem of Evil
It's been a long time since I've posted. Much has happened with Margaret's documentary since I wrote about it in January. The problem is that I've been extremely busy and haven't felt I could afford the luxury of visiting blogland.
But last night Margaret showed me a discussion on Times and Seasons about "the problem of evil," and before I knew it I found myself adding a comment. You can find the entire discussion via the following link: http://www.timesandseasons.org/?p=4512
I'm copying my two comments here:
(1) First comment:
As I started reading this post, I had lots of brilliant points to make. As I've read the comments, I find most of my points have been made (and made better than I would have), and new problems have been raised I hadn't been thinking about. I'll still try a stab at summarizing my thoughts, including some that came as I read the comments.
1. As stated abstractly, the "problem of evil" and possible solutions to it are no match for the actual complexity and mystery of existence.
2. When we say "evil," we mean lots of different things, and some of our logical difficulties come from confusion about what we mean by the word.
3. I think some of the commentators have underestimated the power of LDS theology in addressing the problem of evil. (But I'm not sure "finitist" is the best word for LDS theology--I'd like to radically reinterpret the concepts "finite" and "infinite"--and I'm not sure I want to reduce the restored gospel to a "theology." I'd rather think of it as a set of revealed doctrines and glimpses of ultimate realities that we are in process of beginning to understand.)
4. As some have already noted, LDS theology (or any view that claims that God did not create "the whole set up" out of nothing) is helpful in understanding the existence of evil in several ways. One is that the possibility of evil may simply be built into the nature of things. But as some have pointed out, that doesn't explain why God doesn't prevent that possibility from being realized. Our growth and ultimate happiness (which God desires) must require our exposure to, our intimate involvement in, just this sort of universe. That this is necessary must also be inherent in the nature of things. A God with absolutely no limits, who makes reality in any way he wants, could achieve his ideal ends in any arbitrary way he might choose. And so our ultimate good could, in that case, be achieved without evil, without suffering, in fact, without the loss of a single soul. Either God is working with a reality that has certain built in features, or he has for some reason created it the way it is despite the fact that he could have made it differently.
5. What struck me especially, as I read the comments--and what I had not been thinking about before--is this: Even if we grant that evil and suffering are in general necessary for our ultimate growth, it does in fact appear that some people have far more than their share of trials and some have far less. I don't think our premortal progress can explain all the discrepancies. (I could give my reasons at length, but I'll forbear for now.) Of course, we don't know the deepest needs of others or even of ourselves, and so theoretically this very uneven distribution of trials could be suited exactly to each of our conditions. But again, that doesn't seem to me an adequate explanation of what I actually see. (For one thing, do all the hundreds or thousands who suffer and die as the result of a particular natural disaster have exactly the same need for that experience?)
Though a good deal of what we experience may be customized to our needs, I'm inclined to think that much of what we experience--especially the suffering and losses and limitations that result from natural causes--is not deliberately and exactly designed to meet our individual needs. In fact, some people probably do suffer far beyond what they need to for their eternal good, and some may suffer far less than might be required to give them needed tutoring. In fact, I don't think suffering and evil and loss make complete sense if we look ONLY at this life. But I believe that there is a larger framework of experiences beyond this life--including tutoring, healing, and whatever else is required for our good--that will compensate for all the imbalances of our mortal experience.
When I shared this thought with my wife (Margaret the good and wise), she added another compelling thought: that this experience of evil and suffering necessary, it appears, for our eternal growth is NOT simply individual but communal. We may eventually experience vicariously the horrors and the triumphs that others have experienced in mortality. We are all intimately connected and, unless perhaps we resist our connectedness and retreat into isolation, we will share the experience of mortality as members of one another, members of God's family. That may be part of what Dostoevsky was getting at when he had Father Zosima say, "All are responsible for all and before all."
This vicariousness--of empathy, compassion, charity, and responsibility--certainly connects with the atonement, which, as several have noted, must be at the core of our understanding of "the problem of evil."
(2) Second comment:
First of all, hello to Jim. I hadn't made the connection (JWL=my friend Jim).
Second, in response to some recent comments, I agree that dealing with evil as a purely logical problem is interesting but ultimately not anywhere near as important as dealing with it as a reality. As C. S. Lewis put it, in dealing with suffering, "a little courage helps more than much knowledge, a little human sympathy more than much courage, and the least tincture of the love of God more than all."
Craig V mentioned my desire to redefine "finite" and "infinite." I'll leave that project for another day except to say that my understanding of the words is influenced by the thought of Emmanuel Levinas.
What's relevant here is perhaps this: Is our faith in God based on an ontological definition of God or on our personal relationship with him and our sense of his moral character? In the first case, certain outcomes are guaranteed because they are built into the definition. In the second case, we have confidence in God's promises because we know he is good and loving and keeps his word.
The problem some have with the second approach seems to be this: Yes, we know God loves us and wants to save us (bless us, exalt us, etc.), but how do we know he has the power to do so, if that power is not built into an ontological definition of his nature? My answer is similar to David Paulsen's: I know God is good and trustworthy. He tells me he has the power. I believe him.
But last night Margaret showed me a discussion on Times and Seasons about "the problem of evil," and before I knew it I found myself adding a comment. You can find the entire discussion via the following link: http://www.timesandseasons.org/?p=4512
I'm copying my two comments here:
(1) First comment:
As I started reading this post, I had lots of brilliant points to make. As I've read the comments, I find most of my points have been made (and made better than I would have), and new problems have been raised I hadn't been thinking about. I'll still try a stab at summarizing my thoughts, including some that came as I read the comments.
1. As stated abstractly, the "problem of evil" and possible solutions to it are no match for the actual complexity and mystery of existence.
2. When we say "evil," we mean lots of different things, and some of our logical difficulties come from confusion about what we mean by the word.
3. I think some of the commentators have underestimated the power of LDS theology in addressing the problem of evil. (But I'm not sure "finitist" is the best word for LDS theology--I'd like to radically reinterpret the concepts "finite" and "infinite"--and I'm not sure I want to reduce the restored gospel to a "theology." I'd rather think of it as a set of revealed doctrines and glimpses of ultimate realities that we are in process of beginning to understand.)
4. As some have already noted, LDS theology (or any view that claims that God did not create "the whole set up" out of nothing) is helpful in understanding the existence of evil in several ways. One is that the possibility of evil may simply be built into the nature of things. But as some have pointed out, that doesn't explain why God doesn't prevent that possibility from being realized. Our growth and ultimate happiness (which God desires) must require our exposure to, our intimate involvement in, just this sort of universe. That this is necessary must also be inherent in the nature of things. A God with absolutely no limits, who makes reality in any way he wants, could achieve his ideal ends in any arbitrary way he might choose. And so our ultimate good could, in that case, be achieved without evil, without suffering, in fact, without the loss of a single soul. Either God is working with a reality that has certain built in features, or he has for some reason created it the way it is despite the fact that he could have made it differently.
5. What struck me especially, as I read the comments--and what I had not been thinking about before--is this: Even if we grant that evil and suffering are in general necessary for our ultimate growth, it does in fact appear that some people have far more than their share of trials and some have far less. I don't think our premortal progress can explain all the discrepancies. (I could give my reasons at length, but I'll forbear for now.) Of course, we don't know the deepest needs of others or even of ourselves, and so theoretically this very uneven distribution of trials could be suited exactly to each of our conditions. But again, that doesn't seem to me an adequate explanation of what I actually see. (For one thing, do all the hundreds or thousands who suffer and die as the result of a particular natural disaster have exactly the same need for that experience?)
Though a good deal of what we experience may be customized to our needs, I'm inclined to think that much of what we experience--especially the suffering and losses and limitations that result from natural causes--is not deliberately and exactly designed to meet our individual needs. In fact, some people probably do suffer far beyond what they need to for their eternal good, and some may suffer far less than might be required to give them needed tutoring. In fact, I don't think suffering and evil and loss make complete sense if we look ONLY at this life. But I believe that there is a larger framework of experiences beyond this life--including tutoring, healing, and whatever else is required for our good--that will compensate for all the imbalances of our mortal experience.
When I shared this thought with my wife (Margaret the good and wise), she added another compelling thought: that this experience of evil and suffering necessary, it appears, for our eternal growth is NOT simply individual but communal. We may eventually experience vicariously the horrors and the triumphs that others have experienced in mortality. We are all intimately connected and, unless perhaps we resist our connectedness and retreat into isolation, we will share the experience of mortality as members of one another, members of God's family. That may be part of what Dostoevsky was getting at when he had Father Zosima say, "All are responsible for all and before all."
This vicariousness--of empathy, compassion, charity, and responsibility--certainly connects with the atonement, which, as several have noted, must be at the core of our understanding of "the problem of evil."
(2) Second comment:
First of all, hello to Jim. I hadn't made the connection (JWL=my friend Jim).
Second, in response to some recent comments, I agree that dealing with evil as a purely logical problem is interesting but ultimately not anywhere near as important as dealing with it as a reality. As C. S. Lewis put it, in dealing with suffering, "a little courage helps more than much knowledge, a little human sympathy more than much courage, and the least tincture of the love of God more than all."
Craig V mentioned my desire to redefine "finite" and "infinite." I'll leave that project for another day except to say that my understanding of the words is influenced by the thought of Emmanuel Levinas.
What's relevant here is perhaps this: Is our faith in God based on an ontological definition of God or on our personal relationship with him and our sense of his moral character? In the first case, certain outcomes are guaranteed because they are built into the definition. In the second case, we have confidence in God's promises because we know he is good and loving and keeps his word.
The problem some have with the second approach seems to be this: Yes, we know God loves us and wants to save us (bless us, exalt us, etc.), but how do we know he has the power to do so, if that power is not built into an ontological definition of his nature? My answer is similar to David Paulsen's: I know God is good and trustworthy. He tells me he has the power. I believe him.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Documentary news
In case you're looking for news on Margaret's documentary (Nobody Knows), here's the latest:
(1) It will be shown in San Diego at the San Diego Black Film Festival, Saturday, February 2, at 5:00 p.m. Apparently tickets are going fast and a second screening is being contemplated. For info, go to http://www.sdbff.com/ and more specifically http://www.sdbff.com/tickets.htm and http://www.sdbff.com/glance.htm.
(2) The film will also be shown in Dallas, Texas, as part of the Texas Black Film Festival on Friday, February 1, at 2:00 p.m. For info go to http://www.texasblackfilmfestival.com/ or http://www.texasblackfilmfestival.com/Schedule.html.
(3) Margaret says that "The next Utah screening will be on Saturday March 8th at 11:00 a.m. in Ogden's Egyptian Theater as part of the Foursite Film Festival." Info may be found at http://www.foursitefilmfest.com/events.html (but apparently you won't find anything specific there until Feb. 1).
Note also the post below on the film's appearance at the LDS Film Festival in Provo.
(1) It will be shown in San Diego at the San Diego Black Film Festival, Saturday, February 2, at 5:00 p.m. Apparently tickets are going fast and a second screening is being contemplated. For info, go to http://www.sdbff.com/ and more specifically http://www.sdbff.com/tickets.htm and http://www.sdbff.com/glance.htm.
(2) The film will also be shown in Dallas, Texas, as part of the Texas Black Film Festival on Friday, February 1, at 2:00 p.m. For info go to http://www.texasblackfilmfestival.com/ or http://www.texasblackfilmfestival.com/Schedule.html.
(3) Margaret says that "The next Utah screening will be on Saturday March 8th at 11:00 a.m. in Ogden's Egyptian Theater as part of the Foursite Film Festival." Info may be found at http://www.foursitefilmfest.com/events.html (but apparently you won't find anything specific there until Feb. 1).
Note also the post below on the film's appearance at the LDS Film Festival in Provo.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Nobody Knows--the documentary
So much has happened since I last posted on my blog. (I'll fill you in on some of the details later.) What has finally prompted me to get back to posting is an important event that took place last Saturday at the LDS Film Festival in Provo: the premiere screening of Nobody Knows: The Untold Story of Black Mormons, a documentary that Margaret has been working on for many months. To get a sense of what the documentary is all about, you might want to visit http://www.untoldstoryofblackmormons.com.
I'm copying here comments I posted on Gideon Burton's blog, where he reviewed the documentary (see http://gideonburton.typepad.com/gideon_burtons_blog/2008/01/lds-film-fest-3.html for his review):
Gideon, thanks for your generous and powerful review, powerful in large part because you've tuned in to the power of the documentary. Margaret and Darius and others who've been involved have done a remarkable job collecting the material and putting it together to create a finished product of high technical quality (something rather amazing considering how little money they had and the fact that this is pretty much a first effort in documentary making for most of those involved)--and even more than that a product that conveys such a rich and deep sense of the experiences and faith of black members.
[An inserted note: By the way, my contributions have been pretty minor--mostly being supportive along the way and helping with little assignments here and there. Darius and Margaret are really responsible for what's happened, with some important contributions from Jim Hughes, the main editor, and others. As you might have guessed, Margaret has really been the driving force behind the project and has done most of the writing, organizing of materials, entry into film festivals, etc.]
Many of those who've seen the documentary, both black and white, have said how helpful and inspiring they've found it. But I suspect not everyone is ready for it. Because the documentary reveals how rough things have been for blacks in the Church, many of whom have been extraordinarily valiant, some people are going to have a hard time dealing with it. The documentary conveys a strong sense of faith and affirmation, but there are a lot of hard things too, and some people will resist acknowledging and experiencing those hard things. Some, on the other hand, may acknowledge the hard things but mix that acknowledgment with anger or harsh criticism. (By the way, as I was reading recently the familiar scriptural passages about the mote in others' eyes and the beam in our own, it occurred to me that the beam referred to may be, more than anything else, lack of charity--a gigantic beam we have to get rid of before we can start picking motes out of other people's eyes.)
Everyone ought to find the documentary troubling. The question is how we deal with being troubled. Are we mature enough, charitable enough, repentant enough--do we have strong enough faith and deep enough humility--to turn those troubled feelings into empathy, determination, and positive changes in attitude and behavior?
That question reminds me of a couple of scriptures I sometimes quote when I talk with students about the value of Shakespearean tragedy (and tragedy in general):
Moroni 9:25: . . . may not the things which I have written grieve thee, to weigh thee down unto death; but may Christ lift thee up, and may his sufferings and death, and the showing his body unto our fathers, and his mercy and long-suffering, and the hope of his glory and of eternal life, rest in your mind forever.
Alma 42:29: And now, my son, I desire that ye should let these things trouble you no more, and only let your sins trouble you, with that trouble which shall bring you down unto repentance.
Mormon and Alma are talking about somewhat different kinds of trouble: Mormon has written to his son about horrific scenes of brutality and is concerned that a knowledge of such wickedness and carnage not overwhelm Moroni with despair. Alma is telling Corianton not to let his anxiety over doctrinal issues prevent him from focusing on what is most important: repenting and becoming a true disciple of Christ.
Nobody Knows is relevant to both kinds of trouble: how do we respond to other people’s wickedness? how do we respond to our own (which is much harder to see)? And how do we deal with troubling doctrinal and historical questions?
Some have worried about how helpful the documentary would be in setting such troubles in a context that builds faith and inspires charity. But I understand that some of those who have been concerned have concluded, after seeing the completed documentary, that it is powerfully faith promoting. I agree, even while wondering how some people will respond. I was restless during the hours that followed the screening, thinking specifically about a friend who had come and who had left before I had a chance to talk to him. Seeing him the next day, I was relieved to learn he had positive feelings about the documentary. I asked him if he had any thoughts or suggestions. Apart from one segment that had confused him a bit, he said, "No--I just came to learn." The documentary didn't utterly change his understanding and attitudes in one fell swoop. But it opened his eyes to some things he hadn't been aware of, and it was clear to him the film makers had done their homework and knew what they were talking about.
For anyone coming with an open mind, it appears the documentary will at least help chip away at some of the old misunderstandings. I hope that for many it will do even more. I think we need the kind of experience the documentary provides to help us rise to a higher level of discipleship--to go beyond being merely nice and move toward being true followers of Christ. I hope enough of us are ready to respond in this way that the documentary can do the good within the Church that it is capable of, as I believe it will (maybe in some ways more easily) do good outside of the Church. And I hope we can be charitable with each other--I mean especially with fellow members--even if some don't respond ideally.
I'm copying here comments I posted on Gideon Burton's blog, where he reviewed the documentary (see http://gideonburton.typepad.com/gideon_burtons_blog/2008/01/lds-film-fest-3.html for his review):
Gideon, thanks for your generous and powerful review, powerful in large part because you've tuned in to the power of the documentary. Margaret and Darius and others who've been involved have done a remarkable job collecting the material and putting it together to create a finished product of high technical quality (something rather amazing considering how little money they had and the fact that this is pretty much a first effort in documentary making for most of those involved)--and even more than that a product that conveys such a rich and deep sense of the experiences and faith of black members.
[An inserted note: By the way, my contributions have been pretty minor--mostly being supportive along the way and helping with little assignments here and there. Darius and Margaret are really responsible for what's happened, with some important contributions from Jim Hughes, the main editor, and others. As you might have guessed, Margaret has really been the driving force behind the project and has done most of the writing, organizing of materials, entry into film festivals, etc.]
Many of those who've seen the documentary, both black and white, have said how helpful and inspiring they've found it. But I suspect not everyone is ready for it. Because the documentary reveals how rough things have been for blacks in the Church, many of whom have been extraordinarily valiant, some people are going to have a hard time dealing with it. The documentary conveys a strong sense of faith and affirmation, but there are a lot of hard things too, and some people will resist acknowledging and experiencing those hard things. Some, on the other hand, may acknowledge the hard things but mix that acknowledgment with anger or harsh criticism. (By the way, as I was reading recently the familiar scriptural passages about the mote in others' eyes and the beam in our own, it occurred to me that the beam referred to may be, more than anything else, lack of charity--a gigantic beam we have to get rid of before we can start picking motes out of other people's eyes.)
Everyone ought to find the documentary troubling. The question is how we deal with being troubled. Are we mature enough, charitable enough, repentant enough--do we have strong enough faith and deep enough humility--to turn those troubled feelings into empathy, determination, and positive changes in attitude and behavior?
That question reminds me of a couple of scriptures I sometimes quote when I talk with students about the value of Shakespearean tragedy (and tragedy in general):
Moroni 9:25: . . . may not the things which I have written grieve thee, to weigh thee down unto death; but may Christ lift thee up, and may his sufferings and death, and the showing his body unto our fathers, and his mercy and long-suffering, and the hope of his glory and of eternal life, rest in your mind forever.
Alma 42:29: And now, my son, I desire that ye should let these things trouble you no more, and only let your sins trouble you, with that trouble which shall bring you down unto repentance.
Mormon and Alma are talking about somewhat different kinds of trouble: Mormon has written to his son about horrific scenes of brutality and is concerned that a knowledge of such wickedness and carnage not overwhelm Moroni with despair. Alma is telling Corianton not to let his anxiety over doctrinal issues prevent him from focusing on what is most important: repenting and becoming a true disciple of Christ.
Nobody Knows is relevant to both kinds of trouble: how do we respond to other people’s wickedness? how do we respond to our own (which is much harder to see)? And how do we deal with troubling doctrinal and historical questions?
Some have worried about how helpful the documentary would be in setting such troubles in a context that builds faith and inspires charity. But I understand that some of those who have been concerned have concluded, after seeing the completed documentary, that it is powerfully faith promoting. I agree, even while wondering how some people will respond. I was restless during the hours that followed the screening, thinking specifically about a friend who had come and who had left before I had a chance to talk to him. Seeing him the next day, I was relieved to learn he had positive feelings about the documentary. I asked him if he had any thoughts or suggestions. Apart from one segment that had confused him a bit, he said, "No--I just came to learn." The documentary didn't utterly change his understanding and attitudes in one fell swoop. But it opened his eyes to some things he hadn't been aware of, and it was clear to him the film makers had done their homework and knew what they were talking about.
For anyone coming with an open mind, it appears the documentary will at least help chip away at some of the old misunderstandings. I hope that for many it will do even more. I think we need the kind of experience the documentary provides to help us rise to a higher level of discipleship--to go beyond being merely nice and move toward being true followers of Christ. I hope enough of us are ready to respond in this way that the documentary can do the good within the Church that it is capable of, as I believe it will (maybe in some ways more easily) do good outside of the Church. And I hope we can be charitable with each other--I mean especially with fellow members--even if some don't respond ideally.
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Lewis in General Conference
I'm teaching a class on C. S. Lewis right now, and I told my students I wasn't sure whether he'd be quoted in General Conference this time. But he has been once so far, by Elder Michael Teh on Saturday afternoon. It was wonderful passage from The Screwtape Letters. I'll give the complete passage here. Keep in mind that this is advice from one devil to another, so we have to do some subtle translating to get the point:
"Do what you will, there is going to be some benevolence, as well as some malice, in your patient's soul. The great thing is to direct the malice to his immediate neighbours whom he meets every day and to thrust his benevolence out to the remote circumference, to people he does not know. The malice thus becomes wholly real and the benevolence largely imaginary. There is no good at all in inflaming his hatred of Germans if, at the same time, a pernicious habit of charity is growing up between him and his mother, his employer, and the man he meets in the train. Think of your man as a series of concentric circles, his will being the innermost, his intellect coming next, and finally his fantasy. You can hardly hope, at once, to exclude from all the circles everything that smells of the Enemy: but you must keep on shoving all the virtues outward till they are finally located in the circle of fantasy, and all the desirable qualities inward into the Will. It is only in so far as they reach the will and are there embodied in habits that the virtues are really fatal to us. (I don't, of course, mean what the patient mistakes for his will, the conscious fume and fret of resolutions and clenched teeth, but the real centre, what the Enemy calls the Heart.) All sorts of virtues painted in the fantasy or approved by the intellect or even, in some measure, loved and admired, will not keep a man from our Father's house: indeed they may make him more amusing when he gets there."
This is a passage maybe especially relevant to the world of blogging, given its ambiguous place, somewhere between face-to-face and fantasy.
"Do what you will, there is going to be some benevolence, as well as some malice, in your patient's soul. The great thing is to direct the malice to his immediate neighbours whom he meets every day and to thrust his benevolence out to the remote circumference, to people he does not know. The malice thus becomes wholly real and the benevolence largely imaginary. There is no good at all in inflaming his hatred of Germans if, at the same time, a pernicious habit of charity is growing up between him and his mother, his employer, and the man he meets in the train. Think of your man as a series of concentric circles, his will being the innermost, his intellect coming next, and finally his fantasy. You can hardly hope, at once, to exclude from all the circles everything that smells of the Enemy: but you must keep on shoving all the virtues outward till they are finally located in the circle of fantasy, and all the desirable qualities inward into the Will. It is only in so far as they reach the will and are there embodied in habits that the virtues are really fatal to us. (I don't, of course, mean what the patient mistakes for his will, the conscious fume and fret of resolutions and clenched teeth, but the real centre, what the Enemy calls the Heart.) All sorts of virtues painted in the fantasy or approved by the intellect or even, in some measure, loved and admired, will not keep a man from our Father's house: indeed they may make him more amusing when he gets there."
This is a passage maybe especially relevant to the world of blogging, given its ambiguous place, somewhere between face-to-face and fantasy.
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Margaret's documentary
As many of you know, Margaret has been working with Darius Gray and others on a documentary titled Nobody Knows: The Untold Story of Black Mormons. Though so far I've only seen the trailer (actually a couple of versions of it), I can testify that it's a remarkable piece. Here's Margaret's report: "We are nearly there. We have a fine musician doing some scoring now, and have a few more days of edits ahead of us, but we will be entering this documentary into a competiton on Oct. 5. We have taken it from 70 hours of interviews to 70 MINUTES."
To see the trailer, go to this link: http://www.untoldstoryofblackmormons.com
Prepare to be inspired!
To see the trailer, go to this link: http://www.untoldstoryofblackmormons.com
Prepare to be inspired!
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Me and movies
Before anyone jumps on me for bad usage, (a) "me and movies" alliterates, (b) it's a more common way of saying it than "movies and I," and (c) it's short for "About me and movies."
I just posted a comment on Michael Medved's review of September Dawn in which I think I make some good points and in which I reveal a good deal about myself--maybe more than some would care to know.
For my comment, see the comments on this post (click below) or click here or here (comment on page 8).
I just posted a comment on Michael Medved's review of September Dawn in which I think I make some good points and in which I reveal a good deal about myself--maybe more than some would care to know.
For my comment, see the comments on this post (click below) or click here or here (comment on page 8).
Monday, June 18, 2007
Our latest trip
We're still reeling from the results of our latest trip--mainly to San Diego, but with stops in Las Vegas and jaunts to Chula Vista and Mexico. The most stunning result was our loss of a daughter--that is, as a resident in Provo. She (Julie) now lives in Henderson, Nevada. For the story, see the post below ("Left in Las Vegas") and especially Julie's version on her own blog, http://myartisfashion.blogspot.com/2007_06_01_archive.html.But a lot of other interesting things happened too, a brief account of which appears here. I invite elaboration in the form of comments from those who took part in the trip. Comments from anyone else are welcome as well.
The brief account: On Saturday, May 26, about 9:40am, we (Margaret, Julie, Misha, and I) left Provo and headed south on I-15. Our destination was San Diego, where we would be staying with my old roommate Steve Egbert and his wife Paula (and son Chris). We stopped in Las Vegas, where my cousin Danny had fixed lunch for us, then headed off again and arrived about 9:30 California time at the Egberts'.
Sunday, May 27--special Church events: One reason for our trip was that Margaret had been invited to speak at two special events in the area, a sacrament meeting held in connection with a Singles' Conference and a fireside for a multi-ethnic group. Margaret and I both spoke at the sacrament meeting, where Margaret had everyone in stitches as she told the story of our courtship. At the fireside, which was almost entirely in Spanish, I bore my testimony and Margaret talked about black pioneers and about Pablo and Daniel Choc of Guatemala. Our host at both events was Brother Tony Boyd, a wonderful African-American man with a truly remarkable conversion story.
Monday, May 28--Memorial Day: The Egberts took us to the Mormon Battalion Visitors Center in "old town" San Diego
and to Fort Rosecrans National Cemetery (near Cabrillo National Monument), with thousands of white crosses, and a nearby lighthouse and tidal pools. Then we went to lunch at Jose's in La Jolla and saw La Jolla Cove and a nearby beach covered with seals, then went to La Jolla beach, where Misha did some boogie boarding.Tuesday, May 29--MEXICO!: We had originally been thinking of spending a couple of days in Mexico and getting to the real Mexico, which, for Margaret and me, means beyond Ensenada. Our kids were nervous, though, and so were we, just a bit. So we decided on a one-day trip. We drove past Tijuana, stopped at a village along the coast named Puerta Nueva and ate a lobster lunch, then stopped at a Wal-Mart (!) in Ensenada for bathrooms and ice cream. (And there was a Home Depot ne
xt to the Wal-Mart.) Then on to our favorite stop of the trip, La Bufadora--a blow hole along the coast that sprays water into the air. The walkway to the blow hole is lined with shops--Margaret and I don't remember them being there 20 years ago when we last visited. But we got some good buys on Yucatec hammocks and a plant holder made of sea shells. We drove back to Ensenada for dinner, but it took us about an hour to find a suitable place, by which time tempers were frayed. But I had some great seafood soup! As we headed home, it got dark sooner that I had anticipated, I got confused making lane changes near Tijuana and ended up hitting into a curb and damaging the plastic wheel and engine covers under the van. We drove through Tijuana and finally found our way across the border. One advantage of being there a bit late is that there was virtually no line, and we were through in less than 15 minutes.Wednesday, May 30--back in San Diego: Actually we had gotten back
the night before, not all that late really (maybe 10:15). Wednesday (after I had the van's alignment checked and went to an AutoZone to see what the "engine maintenance" light was all about) we headed to La Jolla again and spent the afternoon at La Jolla Cove, a beautiful
spot where we did some snorkeling in the cold water and saw lots of interesting fish and where Misha ended up swimming with a seal. The seal came to shore for a few minutes (with the lifeguard telling everyone to stay away from it) and then headed off again. Julie and I did some picnic shopping at a grocery store, we ate at a nearby park, and then we headed back to the Egberts'.Thursday, May 31--on to Las Vegas: About 12:30 we left the Egberts' and got on I-15 going north. After a stop in San Bernardino to see one of Julie's friends, we continued to Las Vegas and arrived in Henderson (right next to Las Vegas proper--is that an oxymoron?) JUST as auditions were beginning for the Saints Voices United choir run by Gladys Knight. Julie had wanted to try out but, as she says on her own blog (Myartisfashion), had resigned herself to the possibility of not being able to. We got her there a bit late, since we had to wander around to find the right chapel. She wanted to go in and do everything on her own. So we left her there and went with my cousin Danny to the Green Valley Ranch Casino buffet (that could make an amazing story of its own--think international fare and Roman decadence).
Later that evening, around 9 or so, Julie called and told us she had been accepted into the choir. Only problem: three mandatory rehearsals the following three days, and members of the choir have to live within two hours' driving time. I picked Julie up; then we went as a family to the strip to see the fountains of the Bellagio; but Julie was hungry, and Margaret and I were trying to figure out how the he
ck we were going to deal with Julie's being in the choir. We had parked in Caesar's Palace parking and then trecked much longer than we thought it would take to get to the Bellagio fountains, and a show had just ended when we got there. Without going into details, I'll just say that Margaret (without a cell phone) ended up leaving the rest of us, and we weren't sure where she was headed. We headed off trying to find her, got lost in Caesar's Palace for about an hour, and then finally found her in the casino area. She had been lost there too and had felt assaulted by the sounds, images, and atmosphere of that hellish place. We now think of the experience as a powerful parable: evil is real; it tries to draw you in and trap you and then won't let you go; you seem to be going in circles, bound forever in its chains, until finally (with desperate effort and pleas for help) you find the exit.Anyway, we finally found the exit to parking, got very lost on our way back to Henderson (got some nice help along the way), and arrived at my cousin's place very, very late.
Friday, June 1--Miracles: Friday morning things started looking brighter. Julie and I did some shopping; I got phone numbers, including to the LDS Institute of Religion in Las Vegas. Margaret called there,
asked if they had listings of girls needing roommates, and was given three phone numbers near the chapel in Henderson used by Gladys Knight's choir. Margaret caught the owner
of the best (in price and location) of the three places during a narrow window of opportunity, and we started making arrangements to see the place. But first, we had lunch at Red Lobster in Henderson with the Waites. There's another story. They are the parents of the missionary Julie is writing to, the one we met in Guatemala last summer. And yes, they live in Las Vegas. Now, they've sort of adopted her; later, she even stayed at their place a couple of days. They are delightful people--if I'm remembering correctly, their names are Lane and Torrie.After lunch, we checked out Julie's prospective housing. It's actually a house, a very nice one in a nice residential neighborhood. Julie has several roommates (originally four, now two), all Latter-day Saints and all, I think, college graduates. Julie signed a contract and got a key, and by early evening we had her settled there. Then we left--left our daughter in Nevada--and headed back to Utah. We arrived about 1 a.m. Saturday morning.
A few reflections: Honestly, even though it seemed crazy to leave Julie in Nevada, it felt right. Things worked out remarkably (though we're still dealing with a lot of the practical details). We're confident this will be a wonderful experience for her. And as for us, it's kind of fun having Misha to ourselves. He and Julie used to hang out a lot, so now he has to hang out with Mom and Dad. We've got Rob at home too, and that's nice. We occasionally even see him. As for this major change, with Julie on her own, as I've told several people, we couldn't have done better if we'd been planning it for a month. It still surprises me, given my rational and pragmatic tendencies, how amazingly and quickly things can sometimes work out, when they're supposed to.
One more thing: The Egberts were incredibly hospitable and friendly. I wish we cou
ld spend a week with them every month or two. Besides feeding us, providing lodging, and spending time with us (and providing snorkeling gear), they also introduced us to a new favorite, which we now buy regularly at Costco: Newman's Own Concord Grape Juice. That sweet beverage brings back sweet memories.Hope you had fun learning of our trip or--if you're a skimmer--looking at the pictures. Check in on comments for further interesting details.
Friday, May 11, 2007
A week and a half at the MTC
OK--I resisted (blogging) for three days. I want to report that Margaret and I have been loving our work at the Provo Missionary Training Center. We've spent two Sundays there. Julie has come to the 8:00 a.m. sacrament meeting (a miracle in itself), and Misha came with us last Sunday to eat dinner with the missionaries. On our way through the cafeteria to find the missionaries in our branch, we saw President Boone (MTC president), Brother Breinholt, and their wives and introduced Misha to them. Seeing our son in his Sunday almost best, tall, good looking, and with longish hair, President Boone said, "We love to see future missionaries." Misha's future mission (he's now fifteen) was also a topic as we ate with the missionaries.
I'll tell more about the routine later, but just two notes for now, one on new missionaries, the other on visits to the residence halls.
We had only 19 missionaries in the branch until Wednesday, when a new group of 15 arrived--12 elders and 3 sisters headed to the Canada Montreal and Switzerland Geneva missions (plus one to the West Indies). We spent several hours with them Wednesday evening helping to orient them.
Probably my favorite duty so far at the MTC has been visiting the missionaries in their residence halls. We've done that twice now, the last two Thursday nights. (I think it was after our first visit that Margaret said, "This is the funnest calling we've had.") Last night, after dropping Margaret off at the sisters' hall, I went to visit the elders, chatted with them, asked how the new ones (and the older ones) were doing, and then joined them for a hymn and a prayer. I also shared a scripture--and they asked me for news "from the outside world." I mentioned the Romney-Sharpton controversy (in vague terms) and said one thing I was happy about was that, on CNN, representatives from both major parties had defended "the Mormons." (On a side note, I especially liked James Carville's attitude; the Republican representative was good too, but when asked if Mormons were Christians, he hummed and hawed a bit, while Carville said, "I would point out that the preferred name, I think, of their church is The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. They certainly say they're Christians. I believe them. . . . they certainly do believe in Jesus Christ" [click here for more].)
But what the elders really wanted to know is how well the Jazz were doing. (If you don't know who the Jazz are, consider moving to Latvia--when we visited there in 1996 and mentioned we were from Utah, a young Latvian said, "Oh, the Jazz!") I had heard they had won two of their recent games, but I wasn't helpful beyond that. I promised to do better. As Margaret and I drove home, I found out she knew all about the Jazz's latest game, having heard the whole story while working with her co-documentary makers earlier in the day.
The highlight of the evening was probably the hymn I sang along with the elders, one I had never heard before, though the music is familiar (from Dvorak's New World Symphony). Called "Souviens-toi, mon enfant," it is unique to the French LDS hymn book. Here are the words:
Souviens-toi, mon enfant: Tes parents divins
te serraient dans leurs bras, ce temps ne’st pas loin.
Aujourd’hui, tu es là, présent merveilleux,
ton regard brille encore du reflet des cieux.
Parle-moi, mon enfant, de ces lieux bénis,
car pour toi est léger le voile d’oubli.
Souviens-toi, mon enfant, des bois, des cités.
Pouvons-nous ici-bas les imaginer?
Et le ciel jusqu’au soir, est-il rose ou gris?
Le soleil attend-il la neige ou la pluie?
Conte-moi, mon enfant, la couleur des prés
et le chant des oiseaux d’un monde oublié.
Souviens-toi, mon enfant: A l’aube des temps,
nous étions des amis jouant dans le vent.
Puis un jour, dans la joie nous avons choisi
d’accepter du Seigneur le grand plan de vie.
Ce soir-là, mon enfant, nous avons promis
par l’amour, par la foi, d’être réunis.
It's an absolutely beautiful hymn, evoking eternal memories and reminding us of eternal possibilities. For a translation, or my attempt at one, click on the comments.
I'll tell more about the routine later, but just two notes for now, one on new missionaries, the other on visits to the residence halls.
We had only 19 missionaries in the branch until Wednesday, when a new group of 15 arrived--12 elders and 3 sisters headed to the Canada Montreal and Switzerland Geneva missions (plus one to the West Indies). We spent several hours with them Wednesday evening helping to orient them.
Probably my favorite duty so far at the MTC has been visiting the missionaries in their residence halls. We've done that twice now, the last two Thursday nights. (I think it was after our first visit that Margaret said, "This is the funnest calling we've had.") Last night, after dropping Margaret off at the sisters' hall, I went to visit the elders, chatted with them, asked how the new ones (and the older ones) were doing, and then joined them for a hymn and a prayer. I also shared a scripture--and they asked me for news "from the outside world." I mentioned the Romney-Sharpton controversy (in vague terms) and said one thing I was happy about was that, on CNN, representatives from both major parties had defended "the Mormons." (On a side note, I especially liked James Carville's attitude; the Republican representative was good too, but when asked if Mormons were Christians, he hummed and hawed a bit, while Carville said, "I would point out that the preferred name, I think, of their church is The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. They certainly say they're Christians. I believe them. . . . they certainly do believe in Jesus Christ" [click here for more].)
But what the elders really wanted to know is how well the Jazz were doing. (If you don't know who the Jazz are, consider moving to Latvia--when we visited there in 1996 and mentioned we were from Utah, a young Latvian said, "Oh, the Jazz!") I had heard they had won two of their recent games, but I wasn't helpful beyond that. I promised to do better. As Margaret and I drove home, I found out she knew all about the Jazz's latest game, having heard the whole story while working with her co-documentary makers earlier in the day.
The highlight of the evening was probably the hymn I sang along with the elders, one I had never heard before, though the music is familiar (from Dvorak's New World Symphony). Called "Souviens-toi, mon enfant," it is unique to the French LDS hymn book. Here are the words:
Souviens-toi, mon enfant: Tes parents divins
te serraient dans leurs bras, ce temps ne’st pas loin.
Aujourd’hui, tu es là, présent merveilleux,
ton regard brille encore du reflet des cieux.
Parle-moi, mon enfant, de ces lieux bénis,
car pour toi est léger le voile d’oubli.
Souviens-toi, mon enfant, des bois, des cités.
Pouvons-nous ici-bas les imaginer?
Et le ciel jusqu’au soir, est-il rose ou gris?
Le soleil attend-il la neige ou la pluie?
Conte-moi, mon enfant, la couleur des prés
et le chant des oiseaux d’un monde oublié.
Souviens-toi, mon enfant: A l’aube des temps,
nous étions des amis jouant dans le vent.
Puis un jour, dans la joie nous avons choisi
d’accepter du Seigneur le grand plan de vie.
Ce soir-là, mon enfant, nous avons promis
par l’amour, par la foi, d’être réunis.
It's an absolutely beautiful hymn, evoking eternal memories and reminding us of eternal possibilities. For a translation, or my attempt at one, click on the comments.
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
The Dangers of Blogging
The blogging world is wonderful in so many ways, but it has at least one great danger: the danger of addiction. That danger is not so great with a blog like mine, where I post every few days and get only a smattering of comments. (Please, sir, may I have more?)
But as I've dropped in on some of the sites where Margaret occasionally blogs ("By Common Consent," etc.), I have encountered the dangers in active, vivid form. Of course, I wanted to read Margaret's moving blog essay (see the post preceding this one, below), and I wanted to comment on it. But soon a conversation began, with multiple parties, and I was writing little mini-essays of my own as my "comments." And I kept checking in to see what people said in response to my comments and in response to each other's comments and to respond to people's responses to my responses. In short, it got to be a problem. I'M SUPPOSED TO BE WRITING A BOOK!--and with the computer screen in front of me, the temptation is always there to check in on the blog conversation between and in the midst of other tasks.
And I have to confess, I got distracted by a couple of other conversations on "By Common Consent" and "Mormon Mentality" (see here, here, here, here, here, and here for bits).
So Margaret and I are both working on restraining ourselves, maybe developing a 9-step program of some kind. But remember: MY blog in non-addictive (so far), and you can explore it safely and, I hope, with only pleasant and beneficial effects.
But as I've dropped in on some of the sites where Margaret occasionally blogs ("By Common Consent," etc.), I have encountered the dangers in active, vivid form. Of course, I wanted to read Margaret's moving blog essay (see the post preceding this one, below), and I wanted to comment on it. But soon a conversation began, with multiple parties, and I was writing little mini-essays of my own as my "comments." And I kept checking in to see what people said in response to my comments and in response to each other's comments and to respond to people's responses to my responses. In short, it got to be a problem. I'M SUPPOSED TO BE WRITING A BOOK!--and with the computer screen in front of me, the temptation is always there to check in on the blog conversation between and in the midst of other tasks.
And I have to confess, I got distracted by a couple of other conversations on "By Common Consent" and "Mormon Mentality" (see here, here, here, here, here, and here for bits).
So Margaret and I are both working on restraining ourselves, maybe developing a 9-step program of some kind. But remember: MY blog in non-addictive (so far), and you can explore it safely and, I hope, with only pleasant and beneficial effects.
Thursday, May 3, 2007
Link to a post by Margaret
Margaret has written a beautiful essay on another blog explaining what it means to be a Latter-day Saint. Her essay is a wonderful mini-autobiography and should become a classic in our own family, I hope for generations to come. Here's a link for any who would like to read it: http://www.bycommonconsent.com/2007/05/to-the-pastor/
Monday, April 30, 2007
New call at the MTC
Yesterday--Sunday, April 29--Margaret and I began our service at the Missionary Training Center in Provo.Here's the story: On Monday, April 16, the day after being released from my ten years as a counselor in the Provo Utah Central Stake, I got a phone call from President Breinholt, a counselor in the MTC presidency. We scheduled an interview for the next day. Margaret and I came to the MTC on Tuesday morning and spent almost two hours, which included a call extended to me to serve as a counselor in a branch presidency. (The missionaries at the MTC are divided into branches that average somewhere around 40 missionaries.) For some reason, I was feeling rotten that day, and I was concerned about how this call would affect time with my family. But I knew it would be a good thing; Margaret was very excited about it and rightly knew that we could actually involve the family in some ways; and I knew I would end up saying yes if I took time to think about it more. So I just said yes right then. President Breinholt was wonderfully kind and understanding and helped us get acquainted with the MTC and with the call.
Friday of that week I found out I would be serving in branch 46, a French-Tahitian language branch, with Ron Eliason as branch president and Kuinisi Matagi as first counselor. Brother Matagi is originally from Samoa, served a mission in Arizona speaking Navajo, and met his wife (a Tahitian who speaks French) in Hawaii. Currently there are just 17 elders and 2 sisters in the branch, but more are coming on May 9.
It turns out that this new call is about as heavy as the one I've had previously--maybe more so, since there are fewer Sundays free (like virtually none except near Thanksgiving, Christmas, and when I'm out of town). But the call is more focused. And I'm very excited about it. It will be a wonderful opportunity to stretch, grow, learn, and I hope contribute. And since Margaret and the kids can be involved to some extent, I think it will be an opportunity for all of us to grow and grow closer to each other.
In a nutshell, I'll be spending about 7am-4pm every Sunday at the MTC, along with Tuesday evenings (about 6:30-9:30pm), some Wednesday evenings (when new missionaries arrive for our branch), and an hour on Thursday evenings when both Margaret and I will (separately) visit missionaries in their residence halls.
A little over a week ago, on Sunday, April 22, I got to sit with my family in sacrament meeting in our home ward--the first time, I believe, in almost ten years. Except when we're on break for some reason from the MTC, we won't be sitting together again for a while.
Yesterday Margaret, Julie (our 18-year-old daughter), and I went to the 8:00 a.m. sacrament meeting where I was sustained. Margaret and I bore our testimonies, along with the outgoing counselor (Brother Curtis) and his wife--actually they're being transferred to a German-speaking branch. I was then set apart by Brother Breinholt, after which I got to participate in a series of meetings (priesthood, district meetings, branch council) and interviews. I got acquainted with all the missionaries--they're a great group and are heading to several missions: Montreal, Canada; Paris, France; French West Indies; and Ghana, meaning the French-speaking areas of West Africa. Meanwhile, Margaret went to Relief Society and a special meeting for wives of branch presidency members.
I'm a bit overwhelmed right now, trying to figure everything out and especially to be spiritually fit for the service. But I'm happy to be embarking on a new chapter of my life, especially since I'm doing it--or a lot of it--with my sweet companion Margaret.
Monday, April 16, 2007
Life goes on
Yesterday I was released from a church calling I've had for almost ten years. I'm still processing the change and will tell you more in a later post. Feel free, though, to post any condolences or congratulations as comments on the current post.
As for life going on, it apparently does. And so this week I'll be getting back, I hope, to diligently writing my book. This morning I finished a Shakespeare class I got to take over from an ill colleague. Wednesday we'll have a math tutor come to help one of the kids. Margaret and I will be attending our monthly book group on Friday (the book is Misquoting Jesus). And THURSDAY we get to go to the Lifferths, eat dessert, play "guitar hero" (which I do NOT do well), and administer a test to Noah.
We're looking forward to it!
As for life going on, it apparently does. And so this week I'll be getting back, I hope, to diligently writing my book. This morning I finished a Shakespeare class I got to take over from an ill colleague. Wednesday we'll have a math tutor come to help one of the kids. Margaret and I will be attending our monthly book group on Friday (the book is Misquoting Jesus). And THURSDAY we get to go to the Lifferths, eat dessert, play "guitar hero" (which I do NOT do well), and administer a test to Noah.
We're looking forward to it!
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