Seeing and Telling It Like It Is!

I love starting my day by walking with a group of women that live around me. I love the exercise, but most of all I love learning from them. For example, most of these women own and love dogs. Often they bring their dogs along. Now, I’m not much of an animal lover. It isn’t that I don’t like animals or that I’m afraid of them. The problem is that I was raised by a mother who anytime I got near an animal shrieked, "Wash your hands. Don’t you know animals have germs." So I guess you can say I have an aversion to animals. At any rate as we walked I kept listening to these women complain about their dogs. The stories of dogs eating the family dinner, or dogs getting sick on the floor, or new puppies destroying furniture, or exorbitant fees from vets, or the time it takes to get the dog groomed, or dog accidents in the house, or dog hair on the carpet came up in various versions often. Every time I’d hear them talk I’d silently wonder if dogs were such a nuisance why they kept them around. I couldn’t figure it out.
Then one day a dog that had often walked with us died. Kathy, who belonged to the dog, was devastated. Part of her family had died. She cried and we comforted and grieved with her. As I observed the sorrow, I suddenly realized that there must be more to owning a dog than had been revealed to me in our morning conversations. So after a time, I expressed my observation that all I’d ever heard about the dogs was negative. Sharon countered quickly by saying that I just didn’t hear the good things. And all of them began to tell me everything they loved about their dogs. To be very honest, despite what Sharon said, that was the first time I’d heard the good things.
As I pondered on this experience I learned two things. One is that often in life we vent to friends and those around us about the negative things in our lives and forget to bring up the good. In this way we pass on some unintentional negative feelings. How many times do we complain about our children or a work situation or another person and leave our listener with the impression that what we are complaining about is totally terrible when we don’t really think that at all? We’re just venting or even just telling a story. The other thing I realized is that the dog lovers in the group heard the stories very differently than I did. When they heard a story of a dog eating the family’s dinner they detected a note of love in the voice that countered the negative part of the story because they were hearing the story from a different perspective. In short, I’ve learned to watch to make sure I express the positive as well as the negative and that I don’t leave a wrong impression. After all I wouldn’t want someone to not have children because all they heard from me was complaints about my kids or to not go on for higher education because I complained about the work load. I’ve also learned to listen for the tone that conveys the love even in the complaints. As I’ve done this, I’ve been surprised to discover how often it is there!

Patience, Please!

The noun patient as in “the doctor’s patient,” and the adjective patient as in “she is a patient woman” are related words. They both come ultimately from the Latin verb pati which means to suffer. The noun indicates a person that suffers from illness or affliction, the adjective refers to a person that suffers without complaint. Noah Webster’s 1828 dictionary describes the adjective patience as suffering “with a calm, unruffled temper; endurance without murmuring or fretfulness.”
In the Church we often talk about coming to earth to be tried and tested. If you are like me, when I hear about trial and testing I usually think about my faith being tested. But in Mosiah 23:21 we learn that the Lord also tries our patience, and throughout scripture the prophets urge us to be patient people. For example, in his great speech to the people of Gideon, Alma instructed them to be “full of patience” (Alma 7:23).
When I first started pondering this the thought crossed my mind that faith is a lot easier than patience, but then I realized that you cannot separate the two. Faith is a personal response of trust, loyalty and obedience to Jesus Christ, and patience is an integral ingredient of trust, loyalty and obedience. In mortality the unexpected constantly thwarts our best intentions. The unknown haunts us. Mistakes happen. Our very best efforts fall far short of what is needed. But faith is knowing that Jesus Christ will make it all right, and patience is not complaining while we wait for Him to do so.
Patience doesn’t come naturally to me. I think one of the reasons it doesn’t is because patience is an element of time, and my spirit isn’t accustomed to this mortal element called time. By the same token, that’s probably one of the main reasons I was sent here to experience time–so I could learn patience. In the past, I’ve thought patience meant biting my tongue to keep from complaining. Now I realize that patience is trusting in Jesus Christ enough that I don’t think the negative thoughts. Which takes me back to faith–a response of trust, loyalty and obedience. You just can’t separate the two!

"Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing"

My favorite hymn is the classic “Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing.” Several versions exist, but all of them include the strange phrase “Here I raise my Ebenezer.” In the Mack Wilberg version that the Mormon Tabernacle Choir sings, the second verse begins like this;
“Here I raise my Ebenezer;
Hither by Thy help I’ve come;
And I hope, by Thy good pleasure,
Safely to arrive at home."
Understanding Ebenezer deepened my love for this hymn. The story is found in the Old Testament and begins during one of the many times the Israelites forgot God. Going into battle against the Philistines, the Israelites suffered a terrible defeat, but rather than repent they sent men to fetch the Ark of the Covenant thinking that if they had the throne of God in their midst they would be invincible. Once the Ark was with them, the Israelites confidently marched into battle, but the Philistines slaughtered 30,000 Israelite soldiers, sent the rest running, and stole the sacred Ark.
Triumphantly the Philistines carried the Ark to Ashdod and placed it in the house of their pagan god, Dagon. The next morning the people of Ashdod awoke to find the image of Dagon fallen on its face. Undaunted they stood the image back up, only to return the following morning to find it not only fallen again, but the head and both the hands broken off so that only the stump of the god was left. This alone stabbed fear into the hearts of the Philistines, but in addition the Lord cursed the people with sore plagues. Understanding that the stolen Ark was the cause of their problems the city fathers moved the ark to Gath and the people of Gath suffered until they moved it to Ekron and the people of Ekron suffered until finally it was determined to give the Ark back to the Israelites.
Still it was many years before the Israelites heeded the voice of Samuel the prophet and repented. In that repentant state the soldiers of Israel fasted, asked Samuel to pray for them, and offered sacrificial offerings before once more going against the oppressive Philistines. This time they were victorious.
To celebrate the great victory God had given them, Samuel erected a stone in the land and called it Ebenezer which means “Stone of Help.” So when the song says, “Here I raise my Ebenezer” it means that I now raise my own monument in recognition of all God has done for me.
For us, that monument isn’t usually a stone or anything tangible. Instead it is something that shows our gratitude–singing of a hymn, offering a prayer, bearing a testimony, serving others, or humbly accepting God’s will. In short, raising our own Ebenezer is recognition that we are changing and growing because God is helping us to do so.

2008 is Here!

It’s New Year’s Resolution time! Happy! Happy! Happy New Year! After all these years of making and breaking New Year’s resolutions, I’ve resolved there should only be two resolutions. (1) Follow the Spirit. (2) Enjoy doing it!
I was raised by a very goal oriented father. He read every Positive-Mental-Attitude and Choose-Your-Own-Destiny book out there and then he would leave them on my bed for me to read. They shaped my character, but I’ve come to realize that often my own goals get in the way of what the Lord is trying to do for me. When I let go of what (I think) I want, it is much easier to listen to the Spirit and to let the Spirit guide me.
The next goal is to enjoy what comes. Happiness is a choice. I choose to enjoy the cold or to hate it. I choose to enjoy the task at hand or to dread it. It’s a lot more fun to enjoy! So I’m simplifying this year! Only two goals. I think perhaps that’s the secret the Nephite’s understood that allowed them to live “after the manner of happiness” (2 Ne 5:27).

Merry Christmas Everyone!

There's a side of me most of you don't see. It often comes out at Christmas.
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Tasting the Bread of Life

I passed through masses of icons, silver lanterns, and trinkets before descending the stairs into a sea of people crowded into the small cave. Heat and noise mingled in the heavy, stale air. People jostled for position, nudging, pressing, seeking to see the silver star that marked the place where some say the Savior of the world was born.
People kissed the walls. Others walked through, merely curious. One weeping woman knelt despite the throng, kissed the floor, then gave herself up to intense yet soundless sobbing. Uncomfortable with the sudden exposure to a stranger’s soul, I looked away.
By straining, I caught a glimpse of the star embedded in the rock floor; then I eagerly sought the egress that would take me from the place. I had seen what I came to see but not felt what I hoped to feel. Disheartened, I hurried out of the cave into one of the churches built over it. Few tarried there, and I found in the courtyard a more amiable spot than the one below. Freed from the sights and sounds and press, I sank onto a chair as cold jolts of disappointment intensified in me. How could this be the place of the savior’s nativity?
For years I had imagined, pondered, and prepared, and I wanted the place to elicit all the feelings I’d encountered while studying. But it didn’t. In an attempt to push away the disappointment, I let my mind wander over what I’d learned of the event in Bethlehem that I’d come to love.
Bethlehem–the name means “house of bread.” Whether or not the cave below me was the actual stable of Christ’s birth, this was the town. Words came to mind, words I had heard almost every Sunday since I was a child: “Bless and sanctify this bread to the souls of all those who partake of it, that they may eat in remembrance of the body of thy Son” (D & C 20:77). Christ, the Bread of Life, was born in the house of bread and placed in a manger.
As a child I had thought manger was a synonym for crib. I remembered my surprise at learning that a manger is a box made to hold food for animals, a feeding trough! Now, as I sat in Bethlehem, I imagined a manger filled with oats that beasts of burden hungrily devoured. They, like me, would eat and in a few hours want more. No matter how nutritious earthly fare is, it is never enough. The next day, even the next hour, the stomach growls for more.
In my mind’s eye I saw hands brushing away the last few oats. The same hands filled the manger with fresh straw and placed the Babe in the feeding trough. Words leaped to mind: “He that cometh to me shall never hunger” and “He that eateth of this bread shall live for ever” (John 6:35, 58). The heavenly fare offered
in the manger was not only eternal but capable of lifting us to God. How fitting that Mary should cradle her son, the Bread of Life, in a manger.
I thought of Mary, His mother. The intense emotion of birth was familiar
to me, but Mary was the mother of God’s child. I thought of the joy and the sorrow she bore and wondered what her feelings were as she wrapped the Son of God in swaddling clothes.
Oh, the swaddling clothes! As Mary beheld Him in the manger, did her heart race with premonitions of a time when she would see Him wrapped in linen and laid in another cave, called a sepulcher? In a stable-cave Mary gave Jesus mortal life, and from a sepulcher-cave Jesus came forth to give Mary and all mankind immortal life. Both caves are mortal reminders of Jesus’ condescension, or of His descending “below all things” (see 1 Nephi 11:16; D & C 88:6).
His condescension is difficult to understand. He was God “but made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men” (Phil. 2:7). The same verse in the Greek New Testament does not mention reputation but instead says that He “emptied himself.” He was God, yet He emptied himself of power to begin anew, growing form grace to grace. He was the Word, and yet He came as a wordless infant. He was the Almighty One, and yet helplessly He took nourishment at Mary’s breast. He was king of Kings, and yet He came as the servant of man. He, the great I Am, condescended to be the beast upon which all burdens would fall, born among animals at Passover time.
I thought of the significance of the Passover. As families throughout the land prepared their symbolic meal of lamb, the Lamb of God was being born, and because of His living and His dying, the nullifying effects of death would pass over us. But Passover also meant springtime–lambing season. A few miles away shepherds were helping to bring new lambs into the world. Deemed by the upper classes as men of naught, the shepherds were nevertheless saviors to the sheep. Besides assisting in the births, they nourished, gathered, comforted, and protected their flocks, sometimes risking their lives to defend them. There was deep irony in the fact that Jesus, the Good Shepherd, would be deemed by the Pharisees and Sadducees as a man of naught while in the very act of giving His life to save them.
But there is more to this symbolism of shepherd and sheep. One scholar notes that a tower called Migdal Eder–the watchtower of the flock–stood on the road between Bethlehem and Jerusalem. The sheep that where gathered there belonged to the temple flock, from which the sacrificial lambs would be taken. Some Jews believed that the Savior would be born in Bethlehem and revealed at Migdal Eder (see Marvin R. Vincent, Word Studies in the New Testament, 4 vols. [1887-1900], 1:269).
“For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord” (Luke 2:11). How fitting that the angelic announcement was made to humble men serving the needs of sheep that might die in similitude of the Lamb of God. But that has not changed. It is still to those who are feeding His sheep that He reveals himself. It is to those who serve that the testimony is
revealed, the testimony that all who are unclean have a Savior and can come forth from the darkness of their tombs into the Light of Life.
Thoughts of that light brought to mind the Christmas star. Piercing the darkness, it stood above all nations, far above and untouched by anything worldly. Christ, the Life and Light of the World, is like that star. His light, the light of Christ, still guides wise men and women to their promised land, where they can behold for themselves the greatest star, the Son.
Ah, the Wise Men. Of all the stories associated with the birth, their story intrigues me most. They must have had scriptures or an oral tradition that prophesied of Christ’s birth, or they would not have recognized the sign or known where to go once they saw it. We are told they saw the sign in the East and then traveled west to Judea. It was a long journey, and once in Jerusalem they began to inquire, “Where is he that is born King of the Jews? For we have seen his star in the east, and are come to worship him” (Matthew 2:2).
News of their inquiries concerning a king reached Herod, and he sent for them. He was troubled by prophecies that another would rule Israel–after all, wasn’t he the king of this land? But the Wise Men knew that he was not the king they sought. After they left, they followed the star until they reached Jesus, and there they presented their gifts to Him.
And what marvelous gifts they were! We don’t really know how many Wise Men came, but tradition claims three because there were three gifts: gold, the metal of kings and symbol of a celestial world because of its refined purity; frankincense, used in making incense that was burned on the temple altar as a symbol of prayers arising and connecting God and man; and myrrh, an aromatic gum used to make incense, perfume, and ointment for embalming. I remembered a picture of a myrrh plant and was startled anew by its spikelike thorns. Even at the Christ child’s tender age, the gifts given Him bore testimony of who He was and what He would do. Gold for the King of Kings, frankincense for the Mediator between God and Man, myrrh for the body that would be buried for us.
For us! That was the most important part. If He had not died for us, no light, no sign, no bread would be enough. We would have spent our lives in futility and then perished. But because of Him, we live and will live. Because of Him, all who desire will find light. Because of Him, all who seek with pure intent will find God.
All who seek! I ventured into the crowded cave once more and looked again at the worshipers and icons that surrounded me. Something had changed. Before, these sights and sounds so foreign to my upbringing had made me uncomfortable. Now, instead of gaudiness, I saw expressions of love. Instead of strange behavior, I saw devotion. Instead of disappointment, I felt peace.
And in that moment of recognizing the peace, a symbol came to me that I hadn’t thought of before. The celebrated birth was to a virgin, innocent and pure. As if calling me from a deep sleep, chastening words whispered, It is only in a pure heart that Christ can be born again.

I’m Back!

The last two weeks I graded my Honors students’ Annotated Bibliographies (160 papers that averaged 14 typed-single-spaced pages!) And then graded all my students’ journals (260 journals!). I enjoy reading what they have written, but the sheer numbers cause brain fatigue! As I’ve read, however, I’ve learned a lot from my students. I require them to read from the scriptures ½ hour a day and then record their thoughts and feelings in a journal. In addition I stop the discussion a few minutes before the bell and have them record their thoughts and feelings about the things we have discussed.
One thing that never ceases to amaze me is how students in the same class, listening to the same words can learn (or not learn!) such different things. One student writes in his/her journal how touched he/she was and how much he/she learned and another writes that nothing made sense. This has made me a much better student in Sunday School and Relief Society classes I attend. I realize that as a student, I have to be open to the spirit and ready to learn. If I come out of a class or Sacrament Meeting feeling that I haven’t learned anything, I know that I haven’t had the Spirit with me. If the Spirit is with me, I can learn something no matter who is speaking or teaching.
I’ve also seen how pride and a negative attitude influence what we are able to learn. Especially in the classes for Returned Missionaries, some students will identify everything they haven’t already learned as "undoctrinal." The underlying premise is that if they don’t already know it, it must not be true. That smacks of pride! I work hard at teaching correct doctrine, but it isn’t even the doctrines that students will question. Some figure they already know everything in the book. When teaching Mosiah 18 a few years back, I read aloud verse 30 where Mormon who in abridging the book writes, "All this was done in Mormon, yea, by the waters of Mormon, in the forest that was near the waters of Mormon; yea, the place of Mormon, the waters of Mormon, the forest of Mormon, how beautiful are they to the eyes of them who there came to the knowledge of their Redeemer." Can’t you just hear Mormon rejoicing as he reads and writes about the place he had been named after! In no other place does he repeat something like this. It delights me in that I feel like I’m getting a glimpse into his personality.
But that day as I brought this point out, one young man called out, "You can’t make that kind of assumption! There’s no way you can know he was named after that place!" The intensity of his rebuke startled me. I knew I had read it and that I was right, but at the time I couldn’t remember the chapter and verse that backed me up. It only took a few minutes once I was back in my office to find 3 Nephi 5:12 where Mormon says, "I am called Mormon, being called after the land of Mormon." This was no assumption on my part, but throughout the semester I watched as his negative and critical attitude kept him from learning anything. One student this semester took offense at something said the first five minutes of class. In her journal entry, she ranted about the remarks made in such a way that it was obvious she hadn’t heard anything after that remark. But other students’ journals talked about how strong the Spirit was during the class and what they had learned. This has caused me to monitor my own attitude. Sometimes teachers do unknowingly teach false doctrine or wrong facts. I’m sure I have done it on other occasions, but if I’m in a class waiting and watching for something wrong, I know that critical attitude drives away the Spirit and I don’t learn.
Another thing I’ve realized - students often resist religion classes that are graded. They want religion classes here to be like Institute or Seminary where no grade is given. "We should just be able to learn what we want to learn. Religion classes shouldn’t be graded!" one student told me this semester. But grading gives me as a teacher a lot of leverage that works to the students’ long term advantage. When points are at stake, reviewing for tests, writing papers, keeping journals, even attending regularly reinforce teachings that might otherwise go unnoticed or not learned as deeply. But again the most important thing I recognize is that the advantage of age and life experience has taught me things I realize are important that young people don’t. Instead of balking, students could benefit by exploring the direction a teacher points them in. The whole rest of their lives they can "learn what they want to learn." But right now they have the opportunity to learn from other’s experiences and from many years of concentrated study and to be "forced" to study in depth. Again, I have to ask myself, do I let this kind of pride keep me from learning in other situations?
I do know that the Lord is constantly teaching and directing me. What I have learned from my students is that it is up to me what I learn. Negative, critical attitudes block gospel learning. Positive, loving attitudes increase learning.