A Testimony of Jesus

Not one talk from this session of the April 1972 General Conference impacted me as much as this one by Bruce R. McConkie.

Bruce R. McConkie is an interesting character. The author of the controversial "Mormon Doctrine," I have not often heard his name spoken of with much other than contempt. I've never listened to him speak, nor read much of his writings but excerpts from that book. I knew that he was one of those most outspoken in favor of the doctrine of the curse of Cain and the policy which withheld priesthood blessing from African blacks. I had formed in my mind an image of a rigid, unbending, maybe even stubbornly argumentative man, confident in his own opinion, and determined to convince everyone else around him.

Even knowing that he flipped around completely when the Priesthood was extended to all worthy males, saying that the new light and knowledge that had been received completely erased his previous understanding and opinions, I still assumed that was largely because of his testimony of authority, and that he had to go through extensive self-humbling to accept the point.

Living by Implication—A Woman of God

Believe it or not, I am a faithful Latter-day Saint. Usually, faithful Latter-day Saint women don't talk about what I'm going to talk about, but it's been on my mind a lot lately. I am also a single mother with no real prospects of becoming anything else, which is a confusing thing to be in the Church and in the Gospel.

First, my credentials. I attend the temple more or less monthly. I go to Church every week. Until recently (more on that later,) I encouraged my children to attend their activities. I hold a calling which I fulfill every week. I have had multiple opportunities to be offended and leave the Church, but I haven't. I have struggled with different doctrines of the Church and found my way through them all. I am not a scholar, nor an intellectual, but I have a very active curiosity and I gather knowledge the way a raven gathers interesting objects. I don't shy away from difficult circumstances. I have also come to know my Savior through experiencing my own weaknesses and the weaknesses of others. I have fought hard to learn forgiveness both of myself and others, to learn charity and patience. I have had some success in finding all three, but have a long way to go.

Recently, I've had the opportunity to find out more than I ever knew about the workings of the Church. There is nothing shocking or surprising. I have no horror stories. It's all about what you would expect from an organization filled with very imperfect people who mostly wish to serve God in an organization that is entirely dedicated to doing His work on this earth. It is beautiful in its organic messiness.

But with that opportunity has come many chances to hear how people—particularly men— think about the Church, what they understand of it. I have come to realize how very different my experiences as a woman have been in the Church and as a disciple. I have also come to realize that men, for the most part, truly have no idea how the Gospel as presently taught makes female discipleship so very, very different from male discipleship.

Maybe not all women experience it this way. Many have found ways of coping, or working around the challenges. Most just grow—and flourish—where they are planted. Despite my thinking over these things, I fully intend to do the same thing. But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. It does. And while I've shelved the frustration of what it means to be a woman in the Church, things that happen with my daughters tend to resurface the old resentment. This is one of the ways I haven't yet learned to forgive. It still hurts too much.

Unborrowed Light

In some ways, my testimony has come easily. I was taught from childhood to question and to turn to scriptures and the Lord for my answers. Ever since I first read the Joseph Smith story, one thing became very clear to me: that if Joseph could see God and talk with angels, so could I. At that moment, my testimony became something influenced almost entirely by my observations and by my relationship with God.

While I have not seen angels nor spoken with God face-to-face, and despite there being no evidence in scripture (outside of Mary) that a woman could even do such a thing, I still believe that God could speak to me that way, should He choose. And should He not choose to send me angels, I know He has spoken with me—at times quite strongly—in other ways.

But I have had deep discussions with many people for whom it hasn't been so easy. They don't feel what I have felt, or they don't put the same significance on their feelings as I do. For them, testimony is more academic, more reasoned. It is something to be understood more than it is felt. For others, testimony lacks both logic and feeling, and is rather something that they do, living their lives in God's service without the emotional or mental assurances of His literal existence.

With such varied experiences with Diety, the question remains: what is a testimony?

A Version of Testimony

I wrote this testimony for a very close friend. I expected it to hit on several points of study and inspiration. But soon after the first three or four paragraphs, my words took an unexpected turn. I wrote it, asking myself, "When did I truly know?" The truth is that the answer is messy. There have been dozens, if not hundreds of times I "truly knew," where I felt God's presence unmistakably. My testimony is not one earth-shattering moment, it is many. It is a testimony of the Lord's patience as he has held the hand of a willful, rebellious, lonely child as she struggles through a life that has never been what she wanted it to be.

To me, testimony has not been a plant or a light as much as it has been a struggle to stand against the waves of the sea. My life has never been truly bad. I have been richly blessed, and kept safe by the hand of God. But to me, it has been difficult to stay true to what I have known to be true, and to learn that elusive charity for others...and for myself.

I have long acted on belief. I have not often been disappointed in the rewards for that trust in God. But I am learning that some rewards are long in coming, and some blessings look an awful lot like curses. Trust does not come easily for me, but I have learned to trust God and rely on Him for my salvation. I only hope that I can be an instrument for good in His hands.

Privilege and a Testimony of Polygamy

In watching various people address the new publication of information by the Church on Joseph Smith and his wives, I feel similar to the way I did when watching the reaction to 9/11*. Because I'm a relatively self-centered person**, I have spent a great deal of thought analyzing my reaction to understand it. Why, in a world where so many are so shocked and appalled by the Church's admission† to the extent and nature of Joseph's sealings, am I utterly unaffected?

Of course, the reason is complicated, based on a many-layered set of experiences and ways I've processed them. But I thought I'd tease out a few things that I've not seen anyone else hash over.

A Glorious World

When I was no more than seven, I remember gently removing the shed skin of cicadas from the slat-wood fence in my parents' backyard. We would gather roly poly bugs and watch them curl and uncurl. One of my greatest ambitions was to find a queen fire ant, so I could have my own colony. I kept a careful eye on the date tree in our front yard, finding out that coconut trees and date trees were very different things.

I asked millions of questions, and stored the answers in the back of my mind. I climbed olive trees and dreamt of dinosaurs flying overhead. I read every book I could get my hands on, immersing myself in the stars, in the layers of the earth, in learning about peach trees and honey bees.

When we visited my grandparents, I followed one around and fed his calves and goats. The other taught me about herbs and roses. I learned that spiders love grape arbors, and that dog food doesn't taste good.

Later, I looked into the maw of a dormant volcano, smelled the sulfur pits, watched humpbacks dive on the horizon. I gathered and preserved sea urchin, learned about man o' war jellyfish, and how to pick blackberries with minimal scratches. Everywhere I lived, there were new explorations and always, always more to learn. What I could not learn by experience, I learned from books. Sometimes, I feel as though I have lived dozens of lives in my short years here.

"It's Personal"

Like everyone who wants to do better, be better, I sometimes struggle with my relationship with divinity. I have been amply blessed in a myriad little ways. Nothing major, until recently, but repeated small nudges to say something or check on something that ended up saving me just enough to keep me sane. Some days, it has felt like I'm barely holding on with torn and bloody fingernails, but have been touched with just enough extra energy to keep holding on. It is like I'm part of a vast chorus where, hoarse and broken, my voice does far more to create dissonance than beauty.

Recently, the hand of the Lord has been much more obvious. For the last month or so, I have been attending a ward temporarily while I am in transition from one house to another. This ward has several women who are going through divorce. As I've learned of them, and heard some of them speak, I felt prompted to bear my testimony in Fast and Testimony meeting.

This was a difficult proposition because my testimony, as I have said before, is not smooth and pretty, cut to show light and sparkle. It is cracked, crazed, with deep inclusions. It's a bit off-color. The deliverance I've prayed for over the last several years has been slow in coming. Most days are beautiful, but I still sometimes crack under certain types of pressure which I feel ought to be long gone. I'm still triggered, sometimes, over silly things.

I've been in a liminal state for some time, but it is a liminal state where I feel unseen things are happening, that I am being pruned and developed for some specific purpose. I am changing in ways I can't quite see, let alone quantify. I have started several drafts for blog posts but never finished them. I find myself with few comments to make on others' posts. Whatever changes I'm going through don't fit labels easily. I am becoming, but I'm not becoming anything.

Raising a Missionary

My daughter is preparing for baptism. One of the things I encouraged her to do was to go up in front of the ward and bear testimony. She is seven years old, and very concerned about what other people think of her. Though she used to bear testimony regularly as a small child, she hasn't for some time after developing excruciating shyness in front of an audience.

I told her that bearing her testimony in Church on Fast Sunday might be a good thing to do before making the covenant to stand as God's witness. She agreed to do it, but her fears soon overtook her.

"But I don't know what to say," she said.

"You say what you believe in. What the gospel of Jesus Christ means to you."

"I'm going to be nervous."

"Most people are nervous, sweetheart. If you want me to, I'll go up with you."

She nodded, but still looked doubtful. "That would be good, mommy."

"I will stand up with you and hold your hand, if you like."

"Will you whisper what to say?"

Billboards and the Words of the Prophets

There is a fine line between control and persuasion. Sometimes it’s really hard to see the difference, particularly in ourselves. Particularly when we are passionate about something, or when we want what is best for the people we are trying to control. There is a reason there was a war in heaven, and it’s not because relinquishing control is easy.

Very few people set out to control another person. Few of us sit down and think, “Now, how can I make them do _____?” And yet, we do it all the time.

Recently, I posted something about an Orem billboard, which attracted a great deal of negative attention. I can understand why. I was criticizing the action, and doubting the pure intentions of the people who created it, and it is all centered around the question of how to use the words of Prophets, Apostles, scripture, and Church leaders in our lives.

Unrighteous Questions

As I am certain my parents would attest, I am big on asking questions. Even now, I have little shame in probing into the how and why of everything from human motivation to scientific knowledge, though I would hope I've developed a little more tact than I once had.

It is my parents' fault, of course. One of my earliest memories is, as a 3-year-old in Sunbeam class at church, sharing what I heard in Church that day only to have my dad ask me why I believed it. Because of that gift of a questioning spirit, at eight years old I was fully prepared with a testimony of the truthfulness of Jesus Christ, the Book of Mormon, and the story of Joseph Smith's vision. I had actually read that book myself and prayed as he did.

That is a gift that every parent should try to give their children. I only hope that I do half as well as my parents did with me.

That burning need to understand, to experience and know things for myself, is a huge part of what draws me to internet discussions. There are fewer social courtesies online, things can be discussed that many people would hesitate to share in person. My beliefs are questioned and challenged, and I thrive on that.

Questions help me delve more deeply into myself, help me reach out to my God more fully. They keep me from ever being satisfied with what I know and who I am.

There is a darker side to questioning, however, which I am beginning to see more clearly.

To Know that Jesus is the Christ

I'm not exactly sure when I first knew that the stories were true, that Jesus was real. My parents taught me to turn to the scriptures when I needed answers, to listen to the promptings of the Spirit for comfort and guidance. My first clear memory of a personal experience with scripture helping me happened when I was six or seven years old.

According to witnesses (mostly my mother), I was a very gregarious child. One of her favorite stories is of me jumping into the arms of a complete stranger at the grocery store. But in growing up, somehow that changed. I developed a very strong sense of caution when dealing with other people. I learned not to trust smiles, that kindly old gentlemen might be predators and friendly children might only be looking for an opening to attack.

When I was in college, I began going through a very painful internal struggle with myself. I realized that I had closed myself off from human connections because of my fear. I remember one night when neither of my roommates were home, I was wracked with silent tears as I visualized peeling away layer after layer of emotional armor which I had built over the years. Literally shaking, I remember the distinct impression of arms being wrapped around me. I remember not wanting to move for fear that the sensation would leave.

Similar experiences have happened to me since then, and I have been impressed with strong mental and emotional inclinations at various times, which I believe are from the Spirit. There have been times when those impressions have quite literally saved my life.

I have been going through a hard time over the past two years. In the aftermath of escaping an abusive marriage to the one person I allowed to get deeper into my heart than anyone before my children were born, I have found myself fighting against layering myself once again with emotional armor and closing myself off to the possibility of being hurt that deeply again.

But I know it is important to remain open and vulnerable to pain because that is what my Savior did. The angel asked Nephi once, "Knowest thou the condescension of God?" Like Nephi, I can reply that I know that God loves His children, but that I don't know the meaning of everything that has happened on this earth. More than two thousand years ago, a man who was God came to this earth, opening Himself up to all that mortality means; the pain, fear, discomfort, betrayal and sorrow.

Like me, He knows what it is like to be betrayed and rejected of those He loved most, those He called His "jewels". He knows what it is like to long for a place that feels like home. He knows what it is like to face His duty to the Father only to be afraid and wish that His life were something other than it was. And yet, He came. He came and He finished what He was sent to do.

I know that He is real as I know my own heart is real, for I have felt Him. I know that He is present in this great Mortality Play, and that He knows me. And for a God like that, I proclaim, "Hallelujah!" For a man like that, I will gladly fall to my knees and worship. For my Savior, I will continue to fight to remain open and vulnerable as my offering to an Almighty God, in the hopes of serving Him by serving His children.

I know He is, and He lives. Glory to God, Hallelujah!

Tochter Zion, freue dich!
Jauchze, laut, Jerusalem!
Sieh, dein König kommt zu dir!
Ja er kommt, der Friedenfürst.
Tochter Zion, freue dich!
Jauchze, laut, Jerusalem!

Zion's daughter, O rejoice!
Shout aloud, Jerusalem!
Lo, thy King doth come to thee,
Yea, He comes, the Prince of Peace!
Zion's daughter, O rejoice!
Shout aloud, Jerusalem!

Hosianna, Davids Sohn,
Sei gesegnet deinem Volk!
Gründe nun dein ewig' Reich,
Hosianna in der Höh'!
Hosianna, Davids Sohn,
Sei gesegnet deinem Volk!

Hail, hosanna, David's Son,
Be Thou to Thy people blest!
Thine eternal kingdom come!
Praise be sung to Thee on high!
Hail, hosanna, David's Son,
Be Thou to Thy people blest!

Hosianna, Davids Sohn,
Sei gegrüßet, König mild!
Ewig steht dein Friedensthron,
Du, des ew'gen Vaters Kind.
Hosianna, Davids Sohn,
Sei gegrüßet, König mild!

Hail, hosanna, David's Son,
Be Thou welcome, gentle King!
Firmly stands Thy throne of peace,
Thou, the Father's only Son!
Hail, hosanna, David's Son,
Be Thou to Thy people blest!

Tochter Zion, Freue Dich!
Heinrich Ranke (1798-1876)
Translation by H. Brueckner

Why the Church is True

I love this essay by Eugene England. It's an old one, but it deserves to be read periodically.

Temple Questions

There is a very interesting conversation over at Zelophehad's Daughters which I found worth linking here, in light of having no feelings towards posting something of my own.

I Believe in the Father, Son and Holy Ghost

Articles of Faith #1
[I] believe in God, the Eternal Father, and in His Son, Jesus Christ, and in the Holy Ghost.

I don't remember the first time I felt God. I remember coming home from Sunbeams class (the first LDS class of religious studies, entered at 5 years old), and telling my parents what I learned at Church that day. "God loves me."

My father asked me how I knew that. The answer to my five-year-old mind was clear, "Because my teacher told me so." My dad, always pushing his children to develop their faith further, even when we were so young, said something to the effect of "That's good that you listened to your teacher, but how do you know?" He then told me I should pray to feel it myself. This I did and gained knowledge for myself that God is there and loves me, personally.

Many years and experiences later, I had to learn that lesson again. I sat across from my mission president while he asked me the question: "Sister R, do you know that God loves you? Really know it?" Even now, a lump comes to my throat thinking of that moment. At the time, I had forgotten the lesson my father had me learn when I was five. I no longer knew that God loved me, though I still knew He was there. I was fighting my way through my mission, thinking I had something to prove, that somehow I had to earn His love and approbation. It was several days before I could bring myself again to kneel and ask Him to show me how He felt about me. He did. I have never been the same since.

These experiences taught me that I had Father in Heaven and who He is as the Father of my spirit. A relationship with Christ, in a way, is and was both easier and more difficult to build. Christ follows our Father in all things. He is the Father of this earth, and the Father of salvation. He, in essence, is the Father of our third life, that life where spirit and body become inseparably connected. He has become so by obeying and following our Heavenly Father in all things. After my experiences with God the Father, knowing I could ask Him all things, I could pray about them and ask for a confirmation of their veracity in my heart.

These facts about Christ, and even a conviction of them, have not been enough to develop a personal relationship with Him. For that, I have had to pore over accounts of His dealings with past people in the Bible and other scripture. I have read accounts of His life and teachings. I have had to listen to others' accounts of His dealings. In the end, I have had to live. It is only through life—through experiencing the pain and evil of this life Eve chose for us—that I am coming to know and understand my Savior. In raising a daughter, I have learned what it means to love someone enough to do anything for them, even give life. In learning compassion for and unity with my husband, I have learned what He feels that has led Him to forgive all the pain I have inflicted on Him by my imperfection. And, in learning to forgive myself, I have learned to forgive others in humility, gratitude and deep caring for them, rather than just out of indifference.

The Spirit is an even more intimate relationship in many ways. He hears the thoughts of my heart—both ugly and beautiful. He is the one who ties me together with my spiritual siblings. All my convictions rest in his incorporeal hands. I been trained as a horse is trained, with love and firmness, to rely increasingly on His guidance. His presence is like a cozy down comforter on a cold winter day. I am deeply grateful for His guidance.

I am also grateful for the witness of Joseph Smith, who saw God the Father and Jesus Christ standing side by side. I am convinced in heart and mind that his account is honest and true. I'm glad for the surety and solidity of our doctrine on this matter. One in purpose, though separate in being, my LDS view of the Godhead is a model for how I should strive to unite with my fellow man. Like a family, each member fills its purpose to contribute to one great whole. May we, mortal children of God, and heirs to His glory, also achieve such unity. Together in God, our power is limitless.

Unsaid Sermon

I realize it was posted some time ago, but I just finished listening to a Mormon Matters podcast containing a Sunstone speech on the unsaid sermon. The unsaid sermon is essentially the cultural guilt we feel when hearing the positive spiritual experiences of others. An example would be if a member testified of the blessings they have received for not watching PG-13 movies, and a listener feeling that they are somehow less worthy for watching such movies. While it was interesting, and certainly explored a very real occurrence in Church congregations, and although it approached what I feel to be the most important aspect of this occurrence, I feel that the way it was discussed missed emphasizing a vital point.

They continually mention the "false cultural doctrines" and "false notions" perpetrated by this sort of testifying. In fact, the very term "unsaid sermons" indicates that the person speaking is the one perpetrating these sorts of notions. They miss that the unsaid sermon is not a sermon from the speaker at all, but more accurately, a misinterpretation on the part of the listener.

I believe this to be an important distinction because the connotation to their approach is that we should be more cautious and less free with stories of how the Lord has blessed our lives as a result of certain actions. Removing or even reducing these uplifting stories does not solve the root of the problem: a basic misunderstanding of God's ways and methods.

While the speaker, Dr. Bohn, certainly focuses his points to remedy the situation on self-behavior, a thin thread of misleading information creeps its way into his phraseology. For example, his eighth point "Assume responsibility for our feelings and commitment to the gospel of Jesus Christ instead of reacting to other members’ well-meaning, false notions and cultural doctrines," begins focusing on your own behavior, but ends up shading blame on other members. Those "other members" are well-meaning, but full of false notions and cultural doctrines, according to him. This is harmful addendum to an otherwise good point.

If I claim "I have made a personal covenant with God not to watch PG-13 movies, and this has blessed and purified my life. God has protected me from evil because of it," I am not testifying to either a false notion or a cultural doctrine. I am not trying to say that because I have ceased watching such movies and have been blessed, all members should do the same. In my life, I have made such a covenant and God has blessed me. I am testifying that the Spirit led me to make a covenant which has helped me personally. The take-away message focuses not on PG-13 movies, but on the act of covenant-making and/or letting the Spirit guide you to how you can purify your life. It also testifies that seeking to purify your life and acting on the Spirit's guidance will gain you blessings from God. The problem is not a false notion, but a false focus on the part of the listener. That listener is grabbing onto the thing in the testimony that will gain them more guilt, not trying to listen for the real message and see how it might apply to their own lives. They are throwing away their right to Spiritual guidance.

Take the story of the stripling warriors in the Book of Mormon. One of their examples covers this exact tale. In it, 2000+ young men take up arms to defend their fathers who have taken a covenant to never kill another person. Because of the faith which was taught them by their mothers (and fathers), they are preserved. Although all are injured in the subsequent war, none are killed. This is used to show how a mother of a child killed in war might feel guilty. Perhaps she and her son were not as righteous. Perhaps she didn't teach him strong enough faith.

What this thought misses is that there were many righteous Nephites who were killed in that story. Yet, this miracle was not only a blessing to the young men, but to the whole army. The take-away is not if you are righteous, you won't be killed. It is that the Lord is mindful of us, that faith will strengthen you, and that from time to time the Lord will bless our lives with miracles. Sometimes the Lord's blessing comes in the form of preservation, but in the perspective of an eternal, omniscient, loving God, sometimes it comes in the form of death. The key is to trust that God will protect His faithful when and how He can to bring to pass their immortality and eternal life. God's promise to deliver those young men was specific to them. Another faithful person has another calling. Neither life diminishes the other, but rather strengthens a true faith in God and His love, and knits those lives together into the body of Christ.

The most powerful story that illustrates this concept is found in Daniel. Shadrach, Meshach and Abed-nego, Daniel's four friends, are pure and faithful, but face death in the furnace. In one of the most poetic and powerful statements of human history, they declaire, "O Nebuchadnezzar, we are not careful to answer thee in this matter. If it be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of thine hand, O king. But if not, be it known unto thee, O king, that we will not serve thy gods, nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up." Esther's story which peaks with the declaration "If I perish, I perish," shows no less vibrant, powerful faith. The key is in the faith, not in the miracle.

If we water down our testimonies of God's hand in our lives in the interest of sparing other people self-manufactured guilt, we reject the chance to share our joy. I have often felt the power of unsaid sermons in my life, but I recognize that the problem is mine, not the speakers'. It is Satan whispering in my ear, focusing my attention on the details of the story rather than the moral.

While Dr. Bohn has a good point, and good ways to focus on changing yourself and your attitudes, an important place to start is to cease thinking of others' experiences and personal perspectives as intrinsically wrong and realize that they are not wrong for sharing their life experiences and showing how God has blessed them. They are simply asking you to find joy with them.

But Behold, They Did Not

I am slowly going through a change in the way I approach my opinions. It is generally accepted that, should one have an opinion different than the majority, or (barring majority) socially accepted, one is perforce wrong and should keep it to oneself. My natural inclination is to not make waves, though my upbringing has taught me that challenging beliefs—mine as well as others—is, to a point, healthy. (Of course there is balance in all things, and challenging merely for the sake of challenging crosses that line.) I hate contention, though I'm always for a bout of debate, so long as no hard feelings are present at the end. As I read the chapters in Alma which correspond to my Sunday School lessons, I'm starting to feel that this may not always be the best approach, however. Alma 9, especially poignant, reads:

And they stood forth to lay their hands on me; but behold, they did not. And I stood with boldness to declare unto them, yea, I did boldly testify unto them, saying: Behold, O ye wicked and perverse generation, how have ye forgotten the tradition of your fathers; yea, how soon ye have forgotten the commandments of God.

This troubles me, because I don't see this sort of boldness in myself. I still have too much fear. But where is the balance between boldly testifying and not offending? Where does the burden of not offending lay with me, and where does it lay with the one being offended? I suspect some will be offended, no matter what is said, for they are offended by the word of the Lord, and expect you to tell them what they want to hear.

I suspect the balance lies somewhere in the words of Jacob. We are to trust in the Spirit to guide us to what we should do. Even though boldness in testifying may be difficult for us, we should say what the Lord commands us to say, even should it offend others. We should always try to have the Spirit in all we say (or type!) That isn't to mean we shall always be perfect at it, but that is also not to mean that just because someone is offended, we should not say it. Sometimes, despite the best of efforts, others will do all they can to be offended. If they can ferret out things to be offended by, they can discard the rest of your words, no matter how Spiritually inspired they may be, and thus don't have to change.

I think just that was observed when Sister Beck shared her controversial talk.

The end remains that, though you should try to see another's point of view, a point will come when you cannot agree with their conclusions. When given the choice between serving the master of popularity, who asks for you to say things that are pleasing, and rails against you when you do not, or the one who pleads and chastens.

For obvious reasons, this has been on my mind quite heavily of late. It is a frightening proposition, but I am no longer going to make peace out of default. If I have said something I believe in, I will declare it should the Spirit so move me, and no longer labor under the burden of agreeability. Sometimes the only way is for the Church to assert its position and beliefs firmly enough that those who disagree with its most basic tenets find the impetus to follow their beliefs, no matter how painful and difficult it may be to those who love them, and no matter the social and physical danger. Not all those who rail against the word of God find themselves unable to harm those who testify.

Priestcraft and the Modern Mormon, Part II

I'm finally getting to a continuation of my previous post, which proved to be too long in one piece. In my last post, I described characteristics of Nehor's teachings and behavior, and drew some parallels to modern thought. I believe this recounting of Nehor and his final fate is shared as a warning to us.

Third, the actions of Nehor's followers:

1. They respected the law because they were afraid of being punished.
2. They taught for honor and riches.
3. They pretended to believe the things they taught.
4. They persecuted those of the Church with words.

I find it interesting that Nehor's followers were law-abiding citizens, but only insofar as they would not get caught or punished. It seems they were continually testing the bounds of the law, weaving their way through loopholes and exceptions. Their purposes for teaching others their beliefs were not to share something which had brought them joy, but were to gain honor and riches. This meant they said what people wanted them to say and reveled in the attention it got them. It's easy to see how televangelists might fit into this characterization, but there are those within the Mormon church who might find themselves bearing testimony during fast Sunday or giving a talk who are doing so to gain attention. Such "testimonies" rarely share truths the speaker feels, but might give a recount of the week with a sort of "the Spirit helped me here" or "I was in tune when this happened" or "I know the Church is true and President ________ is a prophet of God, amen!" tacked on the end. (This doesn't mean you, as part of the Congregation, should be critiquing others' testimonies, just that you should pay attention to your own and share what the Spirit wants to you share, keeping extraneous self-gratifying information out of it.)

The second half of the characteristics of Nehor's followers intrigues me the most. First, as a group they pretended to believe what they were teaching. They didn't actually believe it. Perhaps they "believed" it because they wanted to believe it, but in their heart-of-hearts, they knew that what they taught wasn't true. They taught it because it sounded good; it was logical, reasonable and comfortable.

Lastly, they persecuted the Church, not by physically harming them (as that was against the law) but with words. I believe I'm rather familiar with the form these persecutions would take. They likely labeled them with things such as "blind obedience" "illogical", saying things like "you cannot know there is a God" because you can never be certain of it. They ridiculed their faith as being ignorant and provincial. They probably attacked the Church leaders as money-grubbing men (since the only thing they could understand is a desire for money.) They probably figured members of the Church were out of tune with modern thought. In short, they were probably much like many of us today. I would bet that not all the followers of Nehor were outside of the Church.

Fourth, the actions of those in the church:

1. They contended with them, both verbally and physically.
2. For those who contended, their hearts became hard and they left the Church.
3. Some did not contend back and were patient with the verbal abuse.
4. They taught the doctrines of the gospel humbly and without pay.
5. They gave to those in need and did not wear expensive clothing, despite prosperity.

This is a pointed warning against getting entrapped in contention with those who criticize the Church. According to the account, those who were otherwise faithful became involved in debating points of doctrine, which debates eventually became physical. When they debated, they became filled with anger and frustration, which drove out the Spirit, causing their hearts to be hardened and them to leave the Church. If you look back at the previous post on Nehor, you will see that their behavior began to mirror Nehor's - they banded together in fighting and contention, eventually turning physical. Essentially, those who practiced priestcraft were able to draw others into the same practice by gendering debate and contention. Only those who did not contend back, humbly took whatever abuse was given them and simply offered their testimonies without pay, remained faithful and in the Church. They put their emphasis on helping those in need, whether in or out of the Church, both temporally and spiritually.

So how do we combat priestcraft in ourselves? I have a particular struggle with the aforementioned temptation to indulge in contention right now. Where is the balance between sharing testimony and avoiding contention? How can you draw the line between explanation and debate? I have difficulty taking verbal (or written) abuse patiently without lashing back or at least trying to defend myself, particularly when I'm (pridefully) aware of how good I can be at dealing it back. Truthfully, however, those attacking you or the Church generally do so for the express purpose of getting you to attack back. So long as they can get you riled up, they can justify their own behavior and don't have to change. So long as they can twist your words to something they can argue against, they can ignore the part of your meaning that would encourage them to soften their hearts to the Spirit. I long to find the balance between "bearing down in pure testimony" and contention. I want to be able to be patient during abuse, but still firm in expressing my convictions. I suspect that within that delicate balance lies one step closer to Godhood.

The LDS Covenant of Baptism - At All Times, In All Things, and In All Places

So often, people think of baptism as a door by which to enter a Church. Beyond that, it seems to entail little other requirement on the part of the baptized. It gives the one baptized an unconditional "free" grace, requiring only the profession of belief in Christ. Once a person is baptized, that person can never lose Christ's grace, no matter what they do. From what I understand, this is what many Churches refer to as being "saved". Others believe that baptism is a sign of discipleship, but they don't always go into detail about what that discipleship requires.

The LDS on the other hand, believe that baptism is a covenant - in other words, a mutual promise set up by God. In covenants, we promise to do certain things, and the Lord promises certain blessings. This is the baptism of water. The LDS baptism isn't complete until a person receives the Gift of the Holy Ghost by the laying on of hands. This Gift gives receivers the right to the Holy Ghost's constant companionship. This continual influence by the Spirit eventually works the baptism by fire or the spirit, spoken of in scripture.

What is more, LDS members promise to witness of Christ all the time. It is this aspect of baptism that has me thinking lately.

I don't know if very many members of the Church really do this. I don't think it requires constantly babbling about the Church to all and sundry, but I do think it requires a level of spiritual connection that has a person ready to verbally witness at all times, and has a person nonverbally witnessing of Christ on a constant basis.

I have recently reevaluated myself by asking myself questions such as, "Am I living as a witness of Christ at work?" "How about to my family?" "Do my neighbors see and hear my witness in my behavior to them?" "Do I drive as a witness of Christ should?" I'm afraid I've found myself wanting on several counts.

When the Bright Flame Dies

There are times in the lives of every person when they feel the light of testimony flicker and even die. Things they once knew with perfect conviction become tenuous and distant. Knowledge gained through the Spirit departs with the Spirit. Those newly converted and baptized, whether eight years old or older, soon discover that the spiritual euphoria of covenant making can wear off if one does not work at keeping it.

I once had a learning experience with a truly great man and Apostle of Christ. I remember much of the feeling of what was said, though very little of the actual words. He spoke of how Christ taught people, addressing them at the level they could understand, and then lifting them higher. It was an exhilarating lesson, and one that truly illustrated what missionary work should be. It also answered many of my questions as to why the Church does things they way they do. He also spoke of Gethsemane and the time Jesus felt abandoned on the cross. The only phrase I remember word for word is this, "No matter what happens, no matter the times you feel abandoned, never give up. Never give up."

When I went to shake his hand afterwards, all I could say to him was "I won't." That promise has carried me through times in my life when I was deeper in feelings of abandonment than I could stand. "Never give up," and "I won't," echoed through my mind, cutting through the myriad voices which pummeled my testimony of God and of my relationship with Him. I knew it was a promise made before God and before the witness of His servant. It was a personal covenant with Him. It was the lifesaver thrown from the hand of a servant of God. I am certain I will be in need of it again.

Covenants are meant to be those lifesavers. Some will be completely personal, as the experience I have just related. Others are given by God to all His children who are willing to take them, as with baptism and the endowment and sealing in the temple. Every genuine seeker of truth will sooner or later find themselves making covenants. Not only is it inevitable, it is necessary. Part of genuinely seeking truth is being willing to act according to the truth. When we make covenants, we are promising the Lord to act according to the truth we know. Additionally, those promises can help us through times of spiritual darkness.

When you go through times when you feel alone, and everything seems to be on you, cling to the covenants you have made, whatever they may be. For me, the only thing that has kindled the flame of testimony again has been to remember the feelings I once had and the promises I once made. Inevitably, those have returned, though it has at times taken years. Be patient. The Lord will be there in His own time and way, which time and way is always for our eternal benefit.

Remember He loves you, even if you can't feel it right now.

Blogging by the Spirit

When speaking in Sacrament meeting or teaching a class, I subscribe to Gene R. Cook's method described in his book "Teaching by the Spirit." My mission president gave me this book early in my mission, and it changed the way I teach. To sum it up, it is essentially focusing on self-preparation rather than speech-preparation. In it, the speaker reads, ponders, lives according to the commandments and prays, then stands up to teach and lets the Spirit take over. It is a slightly frightening way to teach, especially at first, and I've had a few times where my confidence overreached my humility and it didn't go well.

Nevertheless, I've found it highly effective both to teach and to learn. This year, I've applied it to Sunday lessons, though I've only taught once. I find the lessons are far more meaningful, and the scriptures are merging into one in ways I never before understood. It is also highly effective in less formal teaching/learning moments in life, such as when a friend needs help, when driving . . . and when blogging.

Although I once found debating points of opinion scintillating, I have progressed to a point where I no longer enjoy it. Discussion is still enjoyable to me, but it is easy to discern between the two. There is a certain level of hostility absent in discussion. The Spirit departs from debate. In blogging and commenting on blogs, I have tried to apply this method. If what I am saying has any significance at all, if I cannot feel the Spirit flowing through my mind and heart and into my fingers, I refrain from "speaking." I've mentioned this once before.

I have found that I spend a lot less time reading and writing on blogs (a blessing, since I don't have much time to spare) and more time away from the computer, pondering on the "things of eternity". My understanding and heart has opened more to the things of God.

I try to no longer engage in debate of any kind. The part of me that once found it intellectually stimulating now realizes that it was just a disguised attempt to prove how smart/intelligent/wise/spiritual I was to myself. Moreover, I don't really want to be intellectually stimulated in that way nearly as much as I want to be spiritually stimulated. There is no way for the "natural" or intelligent man to understand the things of God. There is no way for an intellectual discussion devoid of the Spirit to bring us to better understanding of God's ways.

Intelligence is good when it submits to the Spirit, but if it doesn't, it is better not to be intelligent. What is more, if you write by the Spirit, nothing anyone says against you matters. You know you were doing your best to follow the Lord's will for you. If you write when filled with the Spirit, though you may be frightened of the judgment of men, you are a prophet of God.