Public Complaints Require Public Apology

The speakers in Church today yielded many insights (i.e: “Just as we aren’t perfect yet, our families aren’t perfect yet, either”). One of those was an answer to my prayers for the day: to forgive. 

One of the speakers described the difficult time she had while working as a nanny in Italy – where, even after overcoming the communication barrier, every one of her decisions was questioned or attacked. She described how this difficulty led her to seek God, and how that search strengthened her relationship with Him, and her faith in the Savior.
            I was struck by the similarities of her experience in Italy and my own in South Africa, and I realized that, perhaps, I was too harsh in my criticism of the BYU Independent Study program. Like the speaker, my activities were questioned or challenged at every turn, and like the speaker, that difficulty helped me turn to God. As a result, my faith, and my relationship with my Heavenly Father were strengthened.

            I did not give enough credit to the people on my program who were trying to do their part, and suffering from the same difficulties that I was. I also did not give enough credit to the program administrators, who attempted to prepare me for the experience.

            That said, I do not regret my lack of support for the program going forward; I have heard too many others who had experiences too similar to mine to believe that my difficulties were an isolated experience. The immensely more positive experience I had at Cambridge confirms to me that there is a better way.

            Regardless, I can forgive the people with whom I had so much trouble in and concerning South Africa. Five years is far longer than it should have taken me to do so, but better late than never. Peace and happiness to them all, collectively and individually; I hope that each of them are and have been and continue to be doing well, and I at last can express gratitude for the service and friendship and leadership and shared experience I had there.

A change of plans

"How long can rolling waters remain impure? What power shall stay the heavens? As well might man stretch forth his puny arm to stop the Missouri river in its decreed course, or to turn it up stream, as to hinder the Almighty from pouring down knowledge from heaven upon the heads of the Latter-day Saints." - Doctrine and Covenants 121:33

I think the river of my life may have just been turned upstream temporarily. More to come.

Existential Religion

The big question that has been on my mind, of late, is this: what is the nature of God? More specifically, does He create the law or does He obey laws that supersede Him?

At one level, this really doesn't matter: either way, if I follow God, I will come round right. But in another way, it matters very much: should I be striving for a Greek-philosophic "universal ideal" - that applies in the same way, to all people, everywhere? Or is perfection individualized?

I've been battling this back and forth in my head for a long time, but it came up again today in a debate on Facebook. Sunday, I finally came to the conclusion that I would never know unless I prayed; how better to find out the nature of God than to ask Him?

I did. You should too; I am certainly not a reliable enough source on my own for this topic.

Since praying about it, though, it seems clear to me that God pre-existed this mortal realm in which we live. Joseph Smith taught that intelligence is eternal, and I believe that; we are co-eternal with God, always having and always continuing to exist. Our Heavenly Father organized us, rather than creating us ex nihilo.

For everything else though - the laws by which our reality operates, the "laws" of nature, what we observe and deduce, and read in our scriptures, were given by God, not forced upon Him as some sort of necessity. God is not, for example, bound by the law of gravity - even and especially if He was the one who put it into place.

If God were God simply by virtue of knowing all the rules by which the universe operates: 1.) He wouldn't have to be a good person; he would just have to know a lot and be effective. There would be no need for God to love, unless the laws of the universe are based on love. 2.) Ostensibly, God could be replaced, someday, by technology. Once we get sufficiently far advanced, we don't need our Heavenly Father anymore. 3.) The answers to our problems are not unique; rather, they are just the interactions of a large number of variables.

I don't believe any of these things. I don't believe that God looks up the solutions to our problems in a large book of answers. Rather, I think He simply acts, and reality corresponds to what He does.

Thus, He said "Let there be light," and there was light. He did not push the correct button which, according to celestial law, forces light to appear.

This has a huge number of ramifications for our personal religion. If God were essentially a being who "doled-out" bits of eternal law to us as we became ready for them, there would be no need to have God be a person. A computer of even our mortal processing capacity could perform the very routine monitoring of what we do and/or think, and then dole out the appropriate bits of information - like a scavenger hunt, where the clue for the next item is found at the site of the item before. There's no need for God there.

If, instead, God is a living, emotional, perfected person - then we try to be like Him, and follow what He tells us to do because it helps us to do so. It's obedience for obedience' sake, vs. obedience as a means to become like our Heavenly Father. And that changes everything. We still obey - more strictly than before, in some ways - but that obedience has a higher goal. And that higher goal is God.

In pursuing my Facebook debate, I found a quote from Joseph Smith. "Hear it, all ye ends of the earth —all ye priests, all ye sinners, and all men. Repent! Repent! Obey the gospel. Turn to God; for your religion won’t save you, and you will be damned." It's not the law which saves us: rather, the law points our minds to Christ, and He saves us.

A note here - this does NOT mean that we can do whatever sin we want, and God will take care of everything. God's grace is sufficient for the meek; God does not force-feed us salvation. We have to be humble enough to accept it, and accepting God's mercy means changing our lives so that our wills are in harmony with His.

The person who is trying to become like God through the grace of Christ thus has a lot MORE responsibility to seek out and follow the will of the Savior than someone following only a code of rules; without that following, the one who knows that Christ's way is the best and then DOES nothing is under more condemnation than the unknowing. As the Pharisees demonstrate, rules themselves do not produce righteousness. Christ produces righteousness, and He produces it in us BY inviting us to follow Him.

Righteousness is produced when we do so, and only when we do so. There isn't some kind of magical change that suddenly turns us from bad to good - rather, the Lord exercises His power to give us chances to change, and then we act upon those for good or ill.

The point of all this is that God is not a machine, nor a set of tablets made of celestial stone with commandments carved on them. He is a living, loving, personal Being, who invites us to learn of Him by following Him and His ways and His Spirit, praying to know what He would have us do. Then, the Savior helps us to do it. It's personal, it's individual, and so is HE - He is personal and individual as well.

Discontinuity

After reading a few friends' blogs, I was inspired to write a little about something other than my travels, just for a change of pace. I'll post more pictures and a travel related narrative this week as well.

This week has been very interesting and eye opening. I must admit that since coming here to Cambridge, not everything has been rosy. The environment is wonderful of course, and the people are fantastic - I simply had a lot to do with correspondence course and my work here, and I was exhausted and burnt out. Add to that the end of a relationship - and the process of coming to the decision to end a relationship - and I became very stressed, somewhat sick, and most unhappy for a few days.

I deal with stress in terms of nerves, usually. When things get really bad, it feels like pain (and illness was a part of this particular experience) - but normally, I just get a little weird; my social grace leaves me stranded as my own confidence plunges.

Fortunately, there are things that combat this: good friends who are patient and still treat me like a socially competent person even when I don't act like one. I'm lucky to have friends in that category. Exercise does as well - it's hard to feel down when you set goals and achieve them. I'm training for a half marathon now, and I've run more this week than I have since I was training for my brother's and my 275 mile bike ride. It feels great.

Also, it feels wonderful to have the Gospel as part of my life. As much as being with friends helps, it has a negative side as well - when I make a fool of myself, sociality doesn't help my attitude. Fortunately, you cannot make a fool of yourself studying the scriptures and praying to God. I take that back, but at least it's a LOT, LOT harder. :-D My patriarchal blessing is a good check on a poor self-image as well - it reminds me of who I am, how God sees me, and what I have the potential to become. It also reminds me, perhaps more directly and powerfully than any single other thing that springs to mind, how much my Heavenly Father loves me. (For my non-Mormon readers, a patriarchal blessing is a kind of personal chapter of scripture, written for each individual. Mine has my name on it, and was pronounced over my head and recorded by someone called a patriarch, who is called to receive and record this kind of scripture. You might think of it as a personal letter from the Lord to a person, telling them about their life, about some of their personal gifts, giving warnings and instruction, etc.)

So, despite managing to make a tool of myself in front of every unmarried woman in our group in the short space between breaking up with my girlfriend and now (Of course: when you are in a relationship, you don't care about other girls' opinions as much and you are able to be yourself. As soon as you are out of a relationship, even if you aren't looking for another one, you proceed to shove your foot down your throat time and time again), things are going great. I really am enjoying myself here, I'm starting to get into and enjoy my studies, my first paper is coming along, and I'm getting great support, encouragement, and feedback concerning the schools I will begin to set up in September.

In fact, I am assembling a group on Thursday to discuss ways people who want to be involved can help. I'm going to make a practice pitch of the model and get feedback on it at that session.

Exciting times. Oh, and after eight days of being a vegetarian, I'm still going strong. To be honest, I haven't really missed eating meat. I am allowing myself good steak or any sushi in the future- so it's not a complete vegetarianism, but I think this may go from an experiment-prompted-by-unsavory-meat-at-dinner-on-the-same-day-as-a-breakup to a lifestyle decision.

Exciting times indeed.

Journeys

These past two weeks have been a wonderful blur. I had hoped to post more often up until now, but my internet connectivity was very limited until I arrived in Spain, and then my time was very limited until I arrived in Cambridge.

I've been surprised, though, by how much my travels have become a spiritual journey. I had expected to go through Europe as a tourist, visiting sites for writing inspiration, and working on stories and settings as I went. This all happened, but the vast majority of my time feels like it was spent in missionary work.
In Ireland, for example: on the flight across the Atlantic, the gentleman sitting next to me (a Puerto Rican living in Ireland) and I had a long discussion about education reform, politics, and the Gospel. We discussed his questions about the Gospel, and about religion in general, and I was able to invite him to learn more about the Church as a way of answering those questions.

This was NOT an isolated experience. On the train through Switzerland, a Swiss-American young lady found out I was a member of the LDS Church and proceeded to ask me a lot of questions that she'd wanted to ask before, but hadn't had a chance. Again, I was able to invite her to learn more. Similarly, in Ireland, on my bus tour of Northern Ireland, I made two good friends – Steve and Laura; Laura had seen and really liked the Book of Mormon musical, and had lots of questions for me about that. We discussed them for three or four hours while clambering over Giant's Causeway, culminating in her asking for and me offering (essentially simultaneously – it was a neat experience) a copy of the Book of Mormon. Steve was interested in one as well.

It was amazing to me: in all of these conversations, I was just put in a place where I could answer questions people already have. I didn't have to push any points on people, or make things uncomfortable – just in the course of talking, the Gospel came up and I was able to explain what I believe and, sometimes, bear testimony of it.
There were less dramatic opportunities as well – a young woman from Amsterdam at the Alhambra; a Swedish girl in France, an elderly Cuban gentleman and a young Thai woman in Cordoba, a girl from Yale here at Cambridge. That last one may not have been good – I'm supposed to be very tight-lipped about the church here, but a discussion of philosophy and the Book of Mormon musical got away from me and turned into an explanation of doctrine and testimony of it.

Anyway, there has been a lot more to this trip than the tourism. Incidentally, that research tourism has been far more effective than I expected as well: when I've needed specific information, I've gotten it quickly and enjoyably. But it feels like the travel between, and meeting new people and sharing the Gospel and making new friends has been my primary purpose in all of this.

Which brings me to Cambridge. I am having a lot of success here and in general in moving forward along my career goals. Today, for example, I found another individual who shares my enthusiasm for education reform; we had a long and enjoyable discussion about it over breakfast, and we may collaborate on setting up a charter school in China. I was given, in a very short period, a novel to write, and far more importantly, WHY I am to write novels. (For details on that, see a future post.)

Similarly, my plans with my friend Jeffery got a boost in Ireland when I was blessed, very specifically, to be up ridiculously early in an attempt to catch a bus that didn't exist. That attempt, however, caused be to bump in to Akinbode, who was in a similar situation; our meeting developed over breakfast and a few hours' discussion into a future business partnership in an import/export business I am currently trying to develop. Akinbode has the contacts in West Africa I lack; I have the contacts in America he lacks. It was a great example to me of the Lord taking care of me.

This entire trip, in fact, has been that way. I have felt the Lord at my shoulder, directing me in the ways He would have me go. It has been a spiritual journey, and one for which I am truly grateful.

PS - Due to some internet constraints even here, I will wait to upload photos until later this evening.

Ordet vs. Through a Glass Darkly

I've spent a few days this week watching Scandinavian films for a class, two in particular: Dreyer's Ordet (The Word) and Bergman's Through a Glass Darkly. Ordet takes it's theme from Kierkegaard, one of my favorite authors; Through a Glass Darkly references one of my favorite verses from the New Testament.

I ought to warn potential viewers: The Bergman film does include references to incest; nothing is shown, but the subject matter may be objectionable. I found it disconcerting, perhaps because I knew it was coming; the foreshadowing filled me with dread.

That aside, Ordet discusses the quest for God through the metaphors of physicality, life, death, insanity, and faith; Through a Glass Darkly explores the search for God through insanity, physicality, and love. As I'm currently writing a kind of sermon-essay on physicality, I found both films eerily appropriate, though Ordet takes a position on faith with which I much more definitely agree.

I won't ruin either film for those who have not yet watched them, so to discuss the issue, I'll reference Bergman's Wild Strawberries. The seeker in the film quotes a famous Swedish poem: "Var är den vän som överallt jag söker?"

I'll provide a bit of translation here, alongside the original Swedish text. For my Swedish readers, I welcome commentary and suggestions on the translation. "Var är Den Vän som överallt jag söker?" av Josef Olaf Wallin.

Var är den vän som överallt jag söker?
När dagen gryr, min längtan blott sig öker;
När dagen flyr, jag än ej honom finner,
Fast hjärtat brinner.

Where is that friend, whom everywhere I seek?

When the day dawns, my longing only grows;

When the day flees, I still cannot find Him

Though my heart burns.

2.
Jag ser hans spår, varhelst en kraft sig röjer,
En blomma doftar och ett ax sig böjer.
Uti den suck jag drar, den luft jag andas,
Hans kärlek blandas.

I see his traces, wherever power moves,
a flower blooms, or a leaf bends.
In the breath I draw, the air I breathe
His love is mixed.

3.
Jag hör hans röst, där sommarvinden susar,
Där lunden sjunger och där floden brusar;
Jag hör den ljuvast i mitt hjärta tala
Och mig hugsvala.

I hear his voice, where summer winds whisper,
where groves sing and where rivers roar
I hear it best in my heart speaking,
and me keeping.

...

5.
Ack, när så mycket skönt i varje åder
Av skapelsen och livet sig förråder,
Hur skön då måste själva källan vara,
Den evigt klara!

O! When so much beauty in every vein
of Creation and life fail,
How beautiful must the source be,
The eternally True!

I've tried to stay with the literal translation here, though I admit some artistic licenses.

This is one of my favorite poems in Swedish, and if you read the whole thing, it's fairly inspiring; comfort and evidence of God's hand, and reason for hope, in the world around us. Bergman doesn't quite get so far as hope in God, though, I think: in Through A Glass Darkly at least, the title character only gets so far as the possibility of goodness. Granted, the goodness he finds as comfort, both for him and for his son (that his daughter rejects in favor of a more... tangible? God) does provide some measure of hope.

That's a far cry, though, from Ordet's reassurance of a living, active, human God. That, I think, is one of the most comforting aspects of Christianity - not just that God exists, not just that there's the possibility of redemption, but that there are living, thinking, loving Beings who WANT us to succeed. It's the difference between an indifferent universe and a friendly one; between mortality that is only dreary and bitter and mortality with meaning; between a long, mechanical grind through life and a joyous journey of development and understanding.

So, of course I prefer Ordet. I ordered it online, actually, the night I saw it. I've never done that with a film before. If you haven't taken the time to see it yet, check it out.

Through a Glass Darkly is something I'll recommend if you choose not to believe in God. It provides a perspective on God that perhaps is easier to swallow. In my experience, though, what Through A Glass Darkly offers is not enough of a support in my journey through mortality; Ordet describes something that is.