Listening to this children's hymn the other day, I realized the import of the lilting words intended for children but applicable to all:
Love one another as Jesus loves you. Try to show kindness in all that you do. Be gentle and loving in deed and in thought, For these are the things Jesus taught.How great the implications - and responsibility! - of such a simple message. I hope I can live up to these sweet words.
Lead, Kindly Light, amidst th'encircling gloomThis line alone is enough to warm my heart and comfort my weary soul. The full song often brings me to my knees.
Learn the history of the hymn (with renditions of the hymn playing in the background), and listen to a recent performance. Newman, the author of the hymn's profound words, experienced a life full of strife and "providential illnesses," with intermittent emotional and mental breakdowns. This man intimately knows the gloom which the hymn eventually dispels. He has lived through the passage from dark to light, and shares the revelation with us.
Lead, Kindly Light, amidst th'encircling gloom,
Lead Thou me on!
The night is dark, and I am far from home,
Lead Thou me on!
Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene; one step enough for me.
I was not ever thus,
nor prayed that Thou shouldst lead me on;
I loved to choose and see my path;
but now lead Thou me on!
I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears,
Pride ruled my will. Remember not past years!
So long Thy power hath blest me,
sure it still will lead me on.
O’er moor and fen, o’er crag and torrent,
till the night is gone,
And with the morn those angel faces smile, which I
Have loved long since, and lost awhile!
I wrote this essay for a seminar I'm taking on the philosophy of Physical Science.
Is science the antithesis of faith? This question always brings my mind back to the 1997 movie Contact, in which a staunch scientist seeking for extra-terrestrial contact has an out-of-world experience that she can’t “prove” but nonetheless in which she believes completely. This role reversal signifies that science and faith can co-exist, and that the traditionally dichotomous relationship between the two should be re-evaluated by both schools. I’m not saying that Hollywood is the key to bridging the gap between science and faith, but there is some credence to the point the movie attempts to make.
Traditionally, science is conceived as objective, factual and “real.” Western scientific thought has always assumed an “external reality independent of human perceptions” (Brown, p. 369), which has led many scientists – and most of the lay people – to the conclusion that the path of science is one that will eventually reveal all “truth.” This positivistic concept, though methodologically replaced long ago with a more critical approach to the world, still persists in the mind of the masses. I feel that much of the exaggerated debate between science and faith actually pivots around this mentality, rather than methodologies or definitions of either scientific exploration or religious experience.
But what if science is not objective? Scientific philosophy alludes that nothing can ever be proven as true, since an external reality in which the “truth” exists can never be reached by human perceptions. A theory can only be tested against falsification, and if it is not disproved, the theory is upheld until the next round of falsification tests – it is never true, but only not not true. In addition to this “negative nature” of science, the methodologies used to test theories can never be objective because the very fact that a theory is being tested creates a framework and context for the experiment that will influence the results. Inkpen refers to this as “world making” and states that scientists often ignore their world making because it “implies subjectivity in their world view.” (Inkpen, p. 84). He later goes as far as saying that science is not the rigid, fact-finding exploration of reality that most of us accept, but that “scientific thought and its change is strongly influenced, if not determined, by the society within which it exists” (Inkpen, p. 137).
I turn now to faith. Faith can be defined as belief without proof, but this is an overly simplistic view that begs for scientific scrutiny. However, criticizing the notion that faith is a "blind belief" belies the fact that faith and science share a common element: the inability to prove truth. Both science and faith espouse the assumption of unquestioned principles and the acceptance of a certain level of uncertainty. Viewing science and faith as dichotomous only illustrates a misunderstanding of the relationship between the two. Science claims a basis in proof, and some claim that faith can prove nothing (Comrie, p. 37). However, proof cannot be limited to things that are readily observable, as human observation is framed in social context and personal experience. In this sense, science can prove nothing either. According to one definition of faith in the New Testament, it is the "substance [basis or assurance] of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." (Hebrews 11:1). Is not theory an assurance of the hoped-for result of the scientific method? Are not data the evidence of phenomena which exist in a reality that in its purest form cannot be seen? A close examination of science and faith, in an atmosphere free of traditional debate, shows common ground at a fundamental level. The most divergent elements between the two may possibly be merely the terminology and constituents.
In light of the above arguments, I claim that science is not the antithesis of faith. Both require an acceptance of things not seen; both result in a near-complete belief in a reality that cannot logically be proven. Science views empirical data from observations as paramount; faith places personal experience of confirmation above all. In a way, science and faith can work together to make the world a better place – or perhaps they already do.
Recently I've realized that I need to organize my online life. I have so many accounts in so many online services that I don't even remember where I am. So the purging has begun. I started with mybloglog and snapfish. There will be many more to come.
In the meantime I am streamlining my online life by arranging each service into a certain function: web development stuff here, personal stuff there, networking stuff way, way over in the corner. This will hopefully stop the scatter-brained and inefficient approach to "staying connected" (I'm falling out of love with that phrase... I think I was "over-connected" for a time).
I just cleaned my back porch today, to follow along with my online endeavors (I should have been doing my homework but ohwellitcanwait). This cleaning and organizing is all part of a spiritual purge, in hopes of a tighter vision and more focused energy on tackling life. After the cleansing of the porch (despite my nasal passages full of dust), I feel the effects already.
Online life in a nutshell:
Year of maturing - the prevailing theme - I felt it would be a big year but didn't have much to show for it except school - but I see now it's more of an internal progression, a growing up - xanghe represents the care free, blissful days of perpetual honeymoons - that phase has passed and it's now on with adult life - on the way home from work, I realized I'm approaching 30, which is not old, but it's too old to claim ignorance or innonence as I have been doing - recently I told my younger brother to be a man, but was I projecting? - over the years, xanghe has transformed from a silly nickname to a symbol of my continual search for meaning, depicted by the ubiquitous bee - time has passed for me to claim xanghe as my alias, but it will remain a reminder of my search - it's time to be a man
Masters in Urban and Regional Planning This is the program I will be applying for next year to take that first step (FINALLY!) towards pursuing a career. The last time I wrote about this subject, I mentioned that I was leaning towards Environmental Science and Public Policy. Well, I left it at that and didn't delve into the deep history behind that decision. It all started on a dark and stormy night...
I realized early last year that my aspirations to pursue public administration would not lead to a satisfying career for me. Two important follies became evident: 1) I based my decision of Public Admin on the fact that I didn't want to take the GRE and wanted to pursue a grad program that would accept me as-is with my meager background in the Humanities; and 2) even though I tried to avoid sitting at a computer all day by pursuing community outreach instead of computer graphics, I now had a job in community outreach but I spent the day sitting at a computer doing graphic design (among other things). It became clear that I had fallen into the rut of basing my decisions on what I didn't want instead of did want. I realized that the more I didn't want things, the more they seemed to gravitate to me. So, I quit that. My criteria for finding a career changed to what I think I want to do with the rest of my life instead of what I want to avoid. This was a big step for me; remaining in that state could have been disastrous.
So I turned to Civil Engineering. I could still work as a public servant (I like working for the government) but I would be able to build things (something I've liked since I was a child). After a few weeks in that direction, I concluded that I would have to re-graduate with a degree in math or science to even dare apply for grad school, so I turned again. This time it was towards Environmental Science (see previous post). A few weeks later, I turned again to Geography, which emphasized more of the spatial relationship between people and the surrounding landscape. This meant a strong emphasis on mapping technology and GIS, which had become a favorite of mine as I built custom mapping applications at my current job. I applied for this program (twice!) and even enrolled in some deficiency classes, but it all hit the fan when the May 19th election emerged because finals were on May 19th. Awesome. So I watched another semester pass by eyes. Now, I'm glad I did.
One morning a few weeks back, I woke up remembering a grad program I had happened upon two years ago at my alma mater called Urban and Regional Planning. I had looked into the program then, but turned away when I saw that they required a GRE score (I didn't want that, remember?) Now, I revisited the possibility of returning to my school to continue my education in the grad program there. It felt good. I wanted it. It's the first time in the last two years that I've felt a genuine desire and motivation to jump back into school. I took that as a sign and contacted the grad advisor there. I missed the deadline for 2009 (what?!) so the earliest I can start is Fall 2010. Ugh. A full year and a half away. As disappointed as I was, I still didn't feel deterred. So that's that. I've found my direction. MURP. What a great acronym to represent my new life.
Ok, that's the just history, here's the moral. A few days ago I all-of-a-sudden recalled a conversation I had with my mom right before I left for Southern California. I had just returned from my missionary service and was ready to take on the world. We were sitting on the lawn at night, I think it was the night before I left.
"So what do you want to do? What's your plan?"
"I don't know yet. I want to help people, not sit at a computer all day."
"So what are you going to do?"
"... I want to make a better environment for people, to make neighborhoods and communities for people who can't afford it now."
"You mean multi-use housing?"
"Sure, whatever that is."
Now, six years almost to the day since our conversation, I am pursuing Urban and Regional Planning and it feels good. Again. Six years that started as care-free, blissful schooling that taught me a lot about life (and my soon-to-be wife :) but nothing about practical work skills, and that ended with frustrating phone calls, discouraging stand-stills, and long nights full of unanswered questions. Six years later, and I'm back to the beginning. I've finally come around to what God intended for me to do. I don't regret the last six years and I don't mourn over the fact that I could be well on my way in my profession instead of a year away from even starting, but I do find it intriguing that I've journeyed for so long, and now that I'm here, I realize that I knew it all along. I thought I was looking for the destination, but I wasn't because I already knew where it was. I was made to journey (through the wilderness?) because I still had things to learn before "arriving." The real destination lies in the journey itself. It's the knowledge we gain along the way that concludes our journey. And my journey, at least this phase, has come to an end. I'm finally calm about this decision and I'm determined in this direction.
It's really a microcosm for life. I just got back from my aunt-in-law's funeral, and as I chanted along with the monk, I thought about how she was now with her husband who passed on three years ago. She had returned to the place from whence she had come, but now with knowledge and experience that only a lifetime on earth can provide. Before we are born, I'm sure we are debriefed on our earth life and what we need to do and where we need to end up. Then we're born as a baby and forget it all. We start anew. It's only was we inch our way through life that we start to see glimpses of our true potential and final destination. And as we pass through the veil between life and death, I'm sure we'll say to ourselves, much like I did upon remembering my conversation with my mom, "Duh, I knew this." But we will finally be able to arrive at our destination, only because we had "arrived" gradually by accumulating truth and experience as we made the journey.
The U.S. economy slipped into recession in December 2007, the nation's business cycle arbiter declared on Monday, and the downturn could be the worst since World War Two.
Reuters - Mon Dec 1, 2008
Everybody needs to have a temple of their own. A place of peace, where you can come close to Nature and the Divine. A place where all things begin to make sense, where confusion and troubles give way to clarity and opportunities. Where you learn all the things that you already knew, which somehow seem new in contrast with your current struggles.
When problems make their way into your heart, or you're exhausted from always battling with the same questions that keep you up every night, don't find a distraction. Don't blast it away with loud music or hide it away with smoky darkness or drink it away with temporary elixirs. Don't sweep it under the mat or settle for impermanent solutions. Don't run away to a distant land, only to find your monster waiting on your doorstep. Don't bury yourself in busy-ness and work, only to find your assailant working right beside you. Don't ignore it for so long that your bottled-up emotional trauma suddenly becomes somatic and you become so ill that you can't do any good for anyone.
There's something absolutely terrifying about looking fear in the face. Lost hope and unmet expectations are even worse. Defeat and doubt probably the worst of all. But once faced, these enemies can no longer haunt you because you see them for what they are: spiritual imbalance. Something is out of whack between how you perceive your inner soul and how your soul really is. Someone's singing off note and you think it's your soul but your soul thinks it's you.
The only way back is through the doors of your temple. Stepping away from the worries of the world and allowing, for only a moment, your mind and heart to get back in tune. Taking all the little pieces of your emotion that life has flung around your soul and connecting them back together. Permitting a higher power to cleanse the filth that collects in the cracks of your heart. It's like defragmenting your spirit.
I just got back from one of my temples (yes, I have many) and I feel like I've been liberated from a wicked tyrant who has held me hostage for a long time. I entered with a specific question, and got the answer almost before I sat down. After 2 good hours of meditation, I have no clue what went on around me but I know that my life has been changed and a new direction set. Actually, it's the old direction that I knew I should have been following anyway, but refinding it has made all the difference.
My idea going into this study of the Book of Mormon, especially the section dealing with evidence for and against its historicity, was if the Book of Mormon is true, then it has to stand up to the most rigorous assaults and critiques that skeptics and nonbelievers can make. So I made every effort to honestly, fully investigate every criticism, every objection that's ever been made to the historicity of the Book of Mormon. One has to suspend judgment in a number of cases, because it's hard to say when the evidence will all be in, but at the present there are still a number of unresolved anachronisms and problems and ambiguities in the text.
But I felt satisfied that there was in every case a corresponding weight on the other side of the equation, which actually led me to, I think, some very important insights into the nature of faith and how faith works. I came to the conclusion, in large part through my study of the Book of Mormon, that for faith to operate, and for faith to have moral significance in our lives, then it has to at some level be a choice. It can't be urged upon us by an irresistible, overwhelming body of evidence, or what merit is there in the espousing of faith? And it can't be something that we embrace in spite of overwhelming logical rational evidence to the contrary, because I don't believe that God expects us to hold in disregard that faculty of reason that he gave us.
But I do believe that the materials are always there of which one can fashion a life of belief or a life of denial. I believe that faith is a revelation of what we love, what we choose to embrace, and therefore I think [it] is the purest reflection of the values that we hold dear and the kind of universe that we aspire to be a part of. And so it comes ultimately as no surprise to me that the evidence will never be conclusive on one way or the other. I think that there's a purpose behind the balance that one attains in the universe of belief. ...
It appears that there are people who think I am going to hell for believing in Christ, only because my way of doing so differs from their way. Conversely, experiencing this feeling has opened my eyes to the fact that I may be thinking the same thing about others because they do things differently than I do them. My wife likes to tease me when I'm upset at someone and ready to tell them "where to go" - she reminds me that whatever judgment I pass on someone else will be the judgment passed on me (see Matt 7:2). She is probably not too far off.
For the two weeks of Early Voting that I spent racing around the county with VVPATS, 2nd VBM Declarations and SOS-mandated security seals (no wonder I went a little crazy!), I rediscovered a radio station that I hadn't listened to in years. It's a Christian radio talk show that jumps between recorded sermons, books on tape, Christian politics and a lot of fundraising. I really enjoy the program between 6-9pm, which consists of mostly archived sermons from pastors with heavy southern accents. "Ya got ta git intersted... intersted in Jesis..." A lot of the teachings I heard while driving from polling site to polling site made me reflect on my beliefs and how I fit into the broader spectrum of Christianity.
One day I was listening to this station and the host was doing a question and answer show. I tuned in late so I didn't hear the prompt, but I did catch the tail end of one of the questions. I heard the questioner mentioning Moses and other ancient prophets and then he referred to Joseph Smith and Brigham Young and Bruce R. McConkie, saying something about Mormons always excusing their leaders by saying "they're only human." I gleened from context that he found it ridiculous that people who call themselves Christian would align themselves with such sinful men, whereas as those aligning themselves with the Ancients were ok because of the obvious purity and perfection of the prophets of the Bible. The radio host agreed and quickly summed up the Joseph Smith story (emphasizing the lack of evidence for Smith's claim), ending by calling the whole story of Mormonism a "fairy tale for unwitting adults." I'm not a fightin' man, but I'm just glad I hadn't been told that to my face.
That phrase - a fairy tale for unwitting adults - stayed with me for many days. Not long after, I was working with a large group of temporary staff at the office and one of them noticed that I was LDS, just like her. She talked to me about her experience in south county, where the missionaries are sometimes heckled by "born again Christians" and she finished by expressing her dismay that one of "their" main churches was just up the street. "Now we have the Christian Right. They hate us!" Despite my common affiliation with this woman, I was just as taken aback as when I heard the radio host denounce my faith. What's with these people! Or "we people" I guess, since I'm in there, too.
The delineation between born again non-denominational Christians and members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has nothing to do with doctrine or beliefs or anything of substance - it's pure perception. I'm not a doctrinal scholar on either side of the "line" but it seems to me that born-agains and Mormons have a lot more in common than many would like to believe. We both believe in Jesus as the Christ, our Savior and Redeemer. We both believe in the power of the Atonement and that through Christ, we can find joy in this life and in the life to come. We both look forward with an eye of faith to the Second Coming and see the signs of the times all around us in the world. We both believe that God reveals his truth to His prophets, and that those truths are recorded in recorded in scripture to teach us and give us an example of how we should live. This list could continue but for brevity I'll just say this: for two theologies that are so closely related, there sure is a lot of hard feelings between the two.
I had a friend who welcomed two Christian men into his home to witness. They shared their message and stood up to leave, but before stepping out the door left one last thought: "By the way, make sure you find a church where you can worship Jesus, but don't join with the Mormons or the Jehovah's Witnesses." I once spoke with an LDS colleague about his experience with a non-denominational Christian church. He said that they breed their children to hate us and have classes for Sunday School just to teach bashing the Mormons. As I look back and begin to catalog all of the perceptions I've heard from both sides of the spectrum, I feel like I'm in the middle of a high-school love triangle. To make an analogy, I guess the person that both sides are fighting over would be Jesus (I hope that's not irreverent). Both sides want so badly to be looked upon by Jesus as the best and most faithful but, as high school students often do, each side feels insecure in their diligence and position and therefore belittle the other to attempt to compensate. Inaccurate as it may be, that analogy seems to reiterate itself every time I hear the born again vs LDS debate. But that's just my perception.
So who wins? In the end, it's got to be both sides who decide to put doctrinal differences aside to seek for a higher level of understanding. We live in a world full of mislead perceptions blown out of proportion that result in hate and crime and war and death. Values and morals are shifting as religious institutions - Christian or otherwise - lose their foothold in society. The last thing we need is bickering and stubbornness between the individuals who call themselves Christian and who should be uniting to do good for Jesus' sake.
I may need to split this post into two (or more). I'll end part one with this:
That at that time ye were without Christ, being aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers from the covenants of promise, having no hope, and without God in the world:
But now in Christ Jesus ye who sometimes were far off are made nigh by the blood of Christ.
For he is our peace, who hath made both one, and hath broken down the middle wall of partition between us;
Having abolished in his flesh the enmity, even the law of commandments contained in ordinances; for to make in himself of twain one new man, so making peace;
And that he might reconcile both unto God in one body by the cross, having slain the enmity thereby:
And came and preached peace to you which were afar off, and to them that were nigh.
For through him we both have access by one Spirit unto the Father.
Now therefore ye are no more strangers and foreigners, but fellowcitizens with the saints, and of the household of God;
And are built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner stone;
In whom all the building fitly framed together groweth unto an holy temple in the Lord:
In whom ye also are builded together for an habitation of God through the Spirit.
I just received three texts that President Hinckley passed away tonight at 7pm. He was my Prophet. I remember so vividly hearing about President Benson's passing nearly 15 years ago - I was walking into the kitchen at Uncle Glen and Aunt Jody's house when I heard the news. President Hunter's passing is much more vague in my memory, and I don't even recall sustaining President Hinckley. But since then, through all my teenage years, my missionary service and the last 5 years of growing into adulthood, I've repeatedly returned to the words of my Prophet for guidance and inspiration. I have a hammered copy of the Ensign from high school that I carried around for years (until the pages fell freely from the binding) because of the two pages filled with quotes from President Hinckley. President Hinckley reminds me of temples and earrings and the Book of Mormon challenge, of Vietnam and the silver thread and the dedication of Asia for missionary work. I recall the several last General Conferences in which President Hinckley looked so weak, and everyone thought it was his "last time" when he mentioned his failing health and his hope to make it to another conference. I remember his good-humored reply to these assumptions, that he was not giving his own epitaph but just his feelings. I look back to just two weeks ago and see President Hinckley speaking at the Southern California Stake Conference Broadcast. He did look frail and the camera intentionally focused on the other side of the pulpit while President Hinckley arose and sat down, perhaps in an attempt to allow him the time and assistance he needed to move.
It rained last Friday and it rained again today. I love it.
I believe my blog has now fallen into the "Boringest Blogs in the World" category, if it ever left that category in the first place. No pictures, no thought-provoking thoughts, just me blabbing. And not even very often. Pitiful.
It is election season, which makes it difficult for me to blog at work (don't tell my boss) and homework is adding up (finals are coming soon) so I don't have a lot of time. I've been busier, but I'm getting old so I can't hack it like I used to. And I just got sick, so anytime I move too fast I feel like my head is caving in. Let's see... anymore lame excuses...??? Nope, that's it.
So much has happened in the last few weeks, I can't fit it all in here. I've sworn off drawing (oh yeah, that's another lame excuse for not blogging) because it takes me too long and then I either get discouraged and quit or I think it's a work of art and drool over it when really it looks like crap. I've finally written out the text for my storybook (by the way, I've been trying to write a storybook) and my original intention was to illustrate it myself but that's gone down the drain. By the time I'm talented enough to do that I'll be 50. Plus, I'm trying to pick up an extra income somewhere (and praying for a promotion!) to recharge our monetary reserves, so I don't have time to practice. I'm looking for someone to illustrate and I think I've found an artist whose style I've really taken a liking to, but I don't know how to get in touch with her. So that's that.
I have started playing the piano again. I try to get a little bit in each day so that I might be able to play the hymns when our regular organist is not at church. My fingers are starting to remember how to jump from key to key without me prodding them too much. It will take awhile but I hope in a year I'll have several songs down. My wife enjoys the background music much more than the click click click of my laptop or the scratch scratch scratch of my pencils on paper so I think I'll stick to this hobby. Mutually beneficial. That's what marriage is all about.
I was talking with my friend on Sunday about "the fire." You know, that massive force deep within your soul that moves you to action, the feeling that something inside you is bursting with light and you can almost see it coming out of your fingertips, the burning desire to be perfect and pure. The feeling that is followed by focused, poignant faith and vision that opens all doors and clears all obstacles in your path. The power that radiates from your eyes, that demands attention and belief from bystanders, that crushes opposition and invites success. The sense that whatever goal you're aiming at has already been accomplished and you just have to go claim it, the result so tangible that you can almost feel it before you even see it. That's the fire. At times, it's all-encompassing and exhausting and absolutely perfect. At other times, it's gone. Like, all gone. That's when depression sets in. We came up with some good stuff on how to get it back, how to rekindle the fire, but you had to be at our joint FHE last week to get it. :) The most important thing is to keep on going and never give in, to not stop dancing just because the music is gone, and to remember that before and after any great moment the opposition will mount almost to the point of collapse (please read this great address from which we find the oft-quoted line "...beware the temptation to retreat from a good thing. If it was right when you prayed about it and trusted it and lived for it, it is right now.").
Thôi, viết tới đây đã dài quá rồi đấy, ngừng nhe. I'm stopping here, this is way too long.
If you're not happy today, what will make you happy tomorrow?
If you're not satisfied with today, how will you be satisfied with tomorrow?
If you're not content with today, will you be content tomorrow?
How fitting. My wife and I watched The Incredibles Sunday night as we folded clothes and I was struck at how fixed "Mr Incredible" was on his former, glorious identity. Now it's my turn.
I was riding my bike home today when this other biker came speeding past me as I tried to maneuver myself safely onto the sidewalk. Now I have this thing when I'm riding my bike or running - when my adrenaline is already pumping - where if someone passes me, I automatically speed up to catch them. I can't help it. Even if I'm on a ten-speed and they're on a beach cruiser, I still try to overtake them and I feel pretty accomplished when I do so. I guess that's a vestige from my glory days, back during high school when I was at the top of my game and passing people like crazy. But that was ten years ago. Since then I've done a little training, but mostly sitting and sleeping. Anyway, today when I saw Mr Whiz fly past me I felt my legs kick into "go get 'em!" mode and I found myself flying towards him. I caught up and even passed the man without even the slightest glance back. I felt pretty good about myself as I watched him grow smaller in my rearview mirror (yes I'm a nerd with a mirror on my bike), until I felt my legs turn to mush. Luckily he turned instead of going straight, therefore missing me slouch over my handbars, gasping for breath.
I can't believe it. 400 yards of exertion and my legs gave up. Whatever happened to crashing through the wall and pushing my VO2Max and letting the monster out and "Head for the barn, babycakes!" Whatever happened to all those times I pushed myself beyond human strength, all those sprint hills and Roger's Road and the Lake and the Peak... all that and I die at after .25 miles? Sickening. I guess my glory days are over.
I just pray that I don't live my spiritual life like this. I hope I don't meander down life's paths and hope I'm blown the right way, then suddenly kick into gear when a challenge - or what I consider a challenge - comes my way. I heard a great speaker expound on this a few years ago:
I have titled my talk “The Dedication of a Lifetime.” I borrowed this title from something said by Governor Adlai E. Stevenson of Illinois, who was the Democratic Party candidate for president of the United States in 1952 and 1956. He was a fine man and would have been president if he had not been running against a very popular opponent, Dwight D. Eisenhower.
In speaking to an American Legion Convention, Stevenson gave a wise statement about patriotism. He said that what we need “is not short, frenzied outbursts of emotion, but the tranquil and steady dedication of a lifetime” (speech given Aug. 27, 1952, quoted in John Bartlett, comp., Familiar Quotations, 13th ed. [1955], 986). I like that—“not short, frenzied outbursts of emotion, but the tranquil and steady dedication of a lifetime.” I will use this description of patriotism as a formula for how we should live the gospel.
Read the talk here or download the pdf.
I came home from work today with a long list of things to do like cooking and cleaning and homework, but I somehow ended up writing a song. It's been ages since I've written a whole song in one sitting, but that experience only comes around once in a while anyway. Lately I've been thinking a lot on heaven and how to get there, and I think since I haven't been writing down the little epiphanies as they come it just came spewing out in one musical expression. Phew, it's rather tiring, actually. I've always felt that the music and lyrics act independent of the musician, they present themselves when you're not ready and if you don't write it down at that instant, they get offended and leave. While I was feeding Ally today, I caught a wisp of an opening riff and felt the lyrics inside gurgling their way up, so I figured it was time for a song.
The first riff sounds a bit like Live's Dolphin's Cry, and the chorus chord progression (esp at the end of a stanza) kind of sounds like Collective Soul's Forgiveness. The lyrics are based on a loose version of the Prodigal Son, perhaps on his walk back to father's house. The funny thing is, I sat on the couch with my guitar for two hours and the song just came, lyrics and music and all, without me even thinking about the above comparisons. I made those just now as I was playing the song through my head. It's a very simple song and probably quite unremarkable in most aspects, but I've come to appreciate my music for the affect it has on me (now that's an ego!) because my songs are like a journal of sorts. But the music packs 100 times the emotion that plain words do, and every time I sing it, I relive those feelings.
I lost my recording equipment to a thief so I probably won't be recording this one, or the other two I've written since the last "album," but I am planning on putting together another project sometime in the future. Probably when I'm retired.
Well, I should go to bed. The next blog post on my list is about the trip I took to Utah last weekend, but that list might fall prey to another unforeseen event. Hopefully I'll get it out soon. In the meantime, here's some of my friends pictures of our trip...
I am very grateful for my garden right now. I was about to go to bed after a long day at work (finishing a project that doesn't really have much to do with my actual "job," feeling the stress slowly run from my shoulders and neck, then sensing the stress return as my boss says "Oh, since you're so good at this kind of stuff, how about doing this as well? I know it's not part of your job, but...") when I remembered my ớt (chili) plant was wilting a bit this afternoon. I grudgingly started watering the back "yard" (if I can call a 7x11 porch a "yard") and halfway through felt 100% better. Had I neglected the thought to water (or if I didn't have a garden at all), I would have gone to bed with my neck and back just as stiff as it was when I left work at 5. Now, instead of going to bed, I'm blogging about gratitude.
On a more serious note, I received an email from a friend that reiterated the power of gratitude in changing one's life for the better. She recently experienced a great loss in her life and is still trying to cope with the feeling of sadness and pain and even guilt. However, despite the darkness that seems to encompass her, she ends her email with this: "But I know everything will work its way out somehow. I am grateful for everything that God has given me..." [including the opportunity for growth that this experience provides.] It struck me how much effort and courage it takes to articulate that statement when resolution and healing seem so distant. But it is that very courage that positions a person beyond the limited human capacity to cope. It is the acknowledgement that there is a higher power steering this human experience, that it's not up to fate but that the trials we face in life are there to make us stronger. When we understand that principle, we are imbued with the power to overcome, and I've felt that power and it's beyond anything I could ever muster myself.
I think the underlying principle here is faith. According to Alma, faith is "not to have a perfect knowledge of things; therefore if ye have faith ye hope for things which are not seen, which are true." So that means that we've got to bring ourselves to hope for that end result, to hope for the future blessings that will come as a result of our current suffering, push past that human tendency to become bitter and cynical and forget our gratitude for what we have. Think of the power that is lost (sounds like physics, maybe it's not that far off) when someone says "I'll believe it when I see it." or "My life will never heal." They are instantly cutting all connections to the power that comes with faith. Why do I keep saying power? Because that person who says "Things will work out somehow" is equipped with the power to act without the baggage of doubt or fear.
Thanks, my friend, for reminding me (by your example) that gratitude is the best antidote for suffering. I pray that you will have the power to make it through this difficult time and that you won't have to put on a happy face to hide your sadness inside anymore, but that your happy face will be a reflection your happy soul.
Ok, now time to water the front yard...
A few weeks ago, I decided that my wife is more important than my blog, and my wife decided that I'm more important than Goong, so we've now been spending our free time with each other and friends instead of sitting at home with the computer (I guess that's what we get for having two computers). At home, I've reinvested myself in the garden, since all my plants will die in this heat if they don't have constant water. I haven't posted about my garden for awhile, but it's gone through a gradual transformation, which I've tried to capture in photos and have posted on Flickr (click here for complete slideshow, or click image for a few photos).
What I'm really excited about is my wife's new bike. We're amateur cyclists now. We've found out that we both love to bike and it's good for us too, so why not do it together? Plus, since we both hate riding on the sidewalk (or the road for that matter), we've been searching for little bike paths in our area and have been surprised to find so many. Here's a few pictures of our latest journeys, including this morning.
I've been blessed with a pretty strong body. (hic, I just realized how that sentence sounds, anyone reading this who knows me might be rolling on the floor laughing. Get up! That's not what I meant!) I think I'm pretty immune to most food bacteria, probably from all the dirt and glue and ants I ate as a child. I usually don't get sick from what I eat, even though most of the stuff in my fridge is past due. I think the worst I can remember is when I went to Vietnam and ate cháo gà (chicken rice porridge) late at night - I think those strips of chicken had been sitting on the table all day - in Móng Cái on the Vietnam-China border. Oh my goodness, it's moments like those that I really appreciate the health that I take for granted each day!!
But last night I was hit with something new. I have this spot in the upper-middle part of my back that collects my stress. According to my mom, it's right above my guilt-collecting and pressure-of-saving-the-world-collecting spots. Oh man, it hurt last night. It felt like I was getting acupuncture with a wooden spoon. But I wasn't stressed, I was spread too thin, I wasn't even busy. Fortunately, I was able to fall asleep despite by backpain (it just occurred to me that someone might have been doing voodoo on me...lol) and this morning I had an epiphany in the shower as I pondered the reason of my sudden pain. I had poisoned myself. Even though I had a great Memorial Day, it wasn't such a great Memorial evening and night (my own fault) and I fell into a cycle of thinking negative thoughts. I was really just pouting, but I allowed these negative thoughts to dig deep enough that it got to me somatically. That's scary. It happened in like 20 minutes, a slippery slope that ended in my aching back. I know the current health push is "detoxing the body" - I recently read that drinking water every morning that has sat all night in a pure brass cup will help cleanse your system of toxins, sounds like it might repel vampires as well - but what about the mind? My body, that can withstand so many kinds of bacteria for such a long period of time, just crumbles beneath negative thoughts. Those thoughts are the poison that knows no immunity or barrier. I'm just glad I kept my mouth shut (mostly) and didn't spread my poison on to my wife.
ps. mom, I'm feeling better now :)
Having recently watched "The Mormons," a two-part PBS documentary on historical and contemporary aspects of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I was planning a hugely huge and deeply in-depth analysis of my impressions for my blog. However, I actually just got back from a Priesthood meeting (I myself am "A Mormon") and I feel that the Lord has better uses of my time than to regurgitate what countless others are producing on their blogs. So I'll just sum it up.
In a nutshell, I learned some new stuff, I found some new stuff to be offended by, and I walked away with the overall feeling that my faith had been strengthened. Briefly, the treatment of Joseph Smith as a contradictory character, saying some things and doing others, editing and revising his own experiences, displaying his human foibles on his sleeve shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone, including Church members. Although we don't focus on our leaders' weaknesses, did anyone ever except that Joseph was perfect? His shortcomings don't invalidate his experience or his teachings. Let's say he was an incredible liar and an outrageously power-hungry man (two things that could be inferred from the film) - but as long as he taught the law of God, those who followed him will be blessed and not tarnished by his personal conduct. It is similar to Christ's treatment of the scribes and Pharisees (see Matt 23:1-3), that as the official holders and teachers of the Word, though hypocritical and vain, they should be hearkened to, but not emulated in action. It's easy to attack a person's character, but how do you denounce their faith, and the fruits of that faith? Ok, enough about defending Joseph. I believe him and accept him completely, visions and teachings and lies and sins and all. His human weaknesses make him real to me.
The other main foci of Part I were contemporary polygamy (of course) and the Mountain Meadows Massacre. These issues will live with the Church forever, but I appreciate the Church's treatment of their depiction in the film, rightfully categorizing them as "elements of Utah history" and not necessarily inextricably tied to the Church. Most of Part II was very inspirational, focusing on personal experiences and faith. Some time was alloted to excommunicated members and the pain they go through as they are no longer affiliated with the Church. One woman in particular was excommunicated because of her persistence in speaking out. "I cannot be silent," I believe is what she said. When she's that committed to her own interpretations and conclusions of Church doctrine, then how can she be committed to the inspiration that comes through the small voice of the Spirit of the Lord? It's like blasting the radio and assuming that you'll hear your phone vibrate when your Father is trying to contact you. I think the excommunication in this case was necessary, although the Stake President's stifling treatment of the woman in question was unfortunate and definitely unnecessary. As a member of the Church, you are automatically, unconditionally and always a representative of it - all of your words, teachings and actions make a statement on behalf of the Church, and of Christ himself. This is a promise that members make every Sunday at service. So for a member, who has made sacred promises to stand as a witness of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, to persist in teaching and perpetuating personal findings that go contrary to the message of the Church and expect full fellowship by that Church is to walk on thin ice.
I've also scoured some of the forums that focused on this documentary over the last week, and it's the comments and sentiment and rhetoric expressed there that I feel is intriguing, perhaps more so than the film itself. Judging by the comments I read, there are three kinds of viewers of this documentary: really closed-minded Mormons on one side, really closed-minded anti-Mormons on the other, and a full spectrum of quiet people in the middle (I tend to lean to the closed-minded Mormon side, unless I can catch myself). Both extremes are very loud and write their comments to infuriate the other, so I won't give my opinion on them. To them, it wouldn't matter anyway. But to the quiet middle, I think this film is a catalyst for good. To the quiet Church members, it might challenge their faith with things they did not know, which leads to deeper soul searching and prayer and stronger faith; to the quiet non-Church members, it might challenge their own beliefs and contextualize the LDS Church, perhaps leading to further investigation of our faith. Both will take what they learned from the film and apply it to their lives, then take what offended them and throw it out the back door. And then they will move on. That's real religion, not just listening to a sermon, not debating a lot about theory and principles and precepts (which is what I'm doing right now) - it's talking a little, listening a little more and then doing much, all for the good of our fellow beings.
