5941 items (4684 unread) in 60 feeds


Art: Good. Nudity: bad. I see little difference between pornography and nudity. A breast is a breast is a breast.
Ever since fig leaves were first painted over nude art, people have known the potential offensiveness of baring it all. For hundreds and hundreds years [sic] this is the case.
In the sixtieth chapter of Alma, we see a side of Captain Moroni that is somewhat at odds with his depiction elsewhere in the Book of Mormon. Moroni, who is described as a “strong and mighty man,” possessing “a perfect understanding” (Alma 48:11), writes a scathing epistle that accuses Pahoran of incompetency, “slothfulness,” pride, and corruption. He alleges that Pahoran and the Nephite government have “neglected” their brethren, and that “the blood of thousands shall come upon [their] heads for vengeance” (Alma 60:10). Moroni even goes so far as to threaten Pahoran’s life if he does not “repent of [his alleged] sins and iniquities” (Alma 60:33).
As it turns out, however, Moroni’s accusations are unfounded. Pahoran’s failure to send much-needed reinforcements to the front line is not due to negligence or unrighteousness, as Moroni assumes, but rather to an uprising by the king-men, who overthrew the government and appointed a king in its place.
Although it is written of Captain Moroni that “if all men had been, and were, and ever would be, like unto [him], behold, the very powers of hell would [be] shaken forever [and] the devil would never have power over the hearts of the children of men” (Alma 48:17), it appears that “the greatness of [his] heart,” as Pahoran puts it (Alma 61:9), sometimes got the best of him. In this case, Moroni’s indignation at Pahoran’s perceived “indifference” (Alma 59:13) caused him to lash out in anger at him.
Conducting ourselves in a controlled, Christ-like manner is probably a constant struggle for even the best of us. While on the Zion’s Camp march, Joseph Smith had a disagreement with Sylvester Smith as to the best location for their campsite. The heated disagreement quickly escalated into a shouting match, during which “Joseph was said to have thrown the camp bugle at Sylvester” (Bushman, Rough Stone Rolling, 242). As I said, aspiring to Christ’s perfect example will be a struggle for all of us, even prophets.
Yet the scriptures make it abundantly clear that we must put off our inclinations toward anger, jealousy, impatience, and lust, and “become…a saint through the atonement of Christ the Lord, and become…as a child, submissive, meek, humble, patient, [and] full of love” (Mosiah 3:19). In addressing his righteous son Shiblon, Alma encourages him to be “temperate in all things,” saying, “Use boldness, but not overbearance; and also see that ye bridle all your passions”—particularly, I believe, the passion of anger—“that ye may be filled with love” (Alma 38:10, 12). Paul likewise teaches that “every man that striveth for the mastery is temperate in all things” (1 Corinth. 9:25).
I like Alma and Paul’s choice of words—they both say that we are to be “temperate in all things” (emphasis added). As Russell M. Nelson explains, “[t]emperance suggests sobriety and self-restraint in action…. [It] can protect each of us from the aftermath of excess” (“‘These…Were Our Examples,’” Ensign, Nov. 1991). Notice that, while Elder Nelson counsels us to act with sobriety and moderation, he does not encourage extreme scrupulousness or total self-subjugation. I fear that, all too often, phrases such as “self-discipline” and “self-restraint” are associated with negatives rather than positives. Obsessing over the suppression of unwanted thoughts, feelings, and desires is contrary to the principle of temperance; it may be unhealthy and even self-defeating. In one study, researchers found that “suppressing forbidden thoughts” and other “[s]elf-regulatory exertions are often followed by…decreases in self-regulation in other, unrelated spheres.” (Muraven et al, “Self-Control as Limited Resource: Regulatory Depletion Patterns,” Journal of Personality & Social Psychology. 74(3):774-789, March 1998). In other words, when we become preoccupied with not doing a particular behavior or thinking a particular thought, it may actually hamper our self-disciplinary abilities and make us less likely to succeed in the long run. Perhaps this is what Boyd K. Packer was getting at when he said, “Preoccupation with unworthy behavior can lead to unworthy behavior” (“Little Children,” Ensign, Nov. 1986).
In light of this phenomenon, it may be helpful to consider the Daoist principle of wuwei. Wuwei, which literally means “without action,” suggests (somewhat paradoxically) that sometimes the best way to solve a problem is to not take any direct or deliberate action against it. That is to say, rather than exerting ourselves in attempts to control, subdue, or avoid certain thoughts, appetites, and tendencies, it may be more productive to direct our attention and energy elsewhere. As it says in Doctrine and Covenants, Section 58, “men should be anxiously engaged in a good cause” (v. 27), such as serving others, taking an active role in the community, expanding our spiritual and temporal education, and developing our talents. Thus, while our efforts may not be directly aimed at self-subjugation, yet as we actively pursue positive, worthy, fulfilling causes, we accomplish the self-same goal of living a temperate, productive, Christ-like life.
It is important to remember the belief that we are literally children of God, and that we are therefore heirs to divine characteristics and potential, despite our human foibles and imperfections. Brigham Young taught, “The natural man is of God. We are…the natural children of the Father of light…. Man, the noblest work of God, was in his creation designed for an endless duration; for which the love of all good was incorporated in his nature” (Journal of Discourses 9:305; emphasis added). Thus we see that, as children of God, people are inherently good, even though our mortality may subject us to certain ungodly desires, tendencies, or temptations. When we lose our temper, when we treat others unkindly, when we act without moderation, when we inappropriately indulge ourselves, we are acting contrary to our divine heritage and nature.
Perhaps one of the most difficult situations in which we must exercise self-discipline is when we encounter someone who disagrees with, challenges, or even mocks our personal beliefs or values. When it comes to these personal and sensitive subjects, there is a tendency to lash back at the apparent critic. We should certainly stand up for our beliefs, religious and otherwise, but we must beware of the temptation to do so with anger or bitterness—good desires are no excuse for self-righteousness or combativeness. Do you remember the context in which Alma counsels Shiblon to be “temperate in all things”? He is commissioning Shiblon to continue his missionary work, in the course of which his faith will not only be challenged and derided, but he will also be subject to persecution. Alma refers to their previous mission among the Zoramites, during which Shiblon was “stoned for the word’s sake,” but nevertheless reacted with “patience and…long-suffering” (Alma 38: 3, 4). Had Shiblon not “bridle[d] his passions,” and reacted in a mean, angry, or overbearing manner, he most certainly would not have been “filled with love,” as Alma teaches (Alma 38:12).
President David O. McKay’s exercise of temperance demonstrates the value of Alma’s counsel. In the 1950s, Sterling McMurrin, a prominent LDS educator at the University of Utah, came under fire for his unorthodox views. Some in the Church, including two apostles, called for his excommunication. President McKay befriended this brother, and promised him, “if they put you on trial for excommunication, I will be there as the first witness in your behalf.” McMurrin later recalled that “President McKay wasn’t even interested in raising a single question about my beliefs, but simply insisted that a man in this Church had a right to believe as he pleased” (Prince, David O. McKay and the Rise of Modern Mormonism, 55-56). Their friendship lasted until President McKay’s passing, and McMurrin remained a member of the Church for the rest of his life. As another General Authority later said, “I’ve found in the Church, and this is what gave me great comfort with President McKay, that there is room for all [kinds of people], not just a few, not just those here or there, but the whole spectrum” (Paul H. Dunn; qtd. in Prince, David O. McKay and the Rise of Modern Mormonism, 45). As Shiblon and President McKay’s examples demonstrate, disagreements with others over religion, values, politics, or any other subject—even within the “household of faith” (D&C 121:45)—need not impede our love or respect for them.
Doctrine and Covenants, Section 121, further outlines how the principle of temperance applies to our interpersonal relations. Although “almost all” of us may have an inclination toward impatience, anger, and unrighteous dominion, we are to act with “long-suffering,… gentleness[,]…meekness, and…love unfeigned…without hypocrisy, and without guile” (D&C 121:39, 41, 42). This perfectly describes Christ’s interactions with those around him, even his harshest persecutors. While hanging on the cross, Jesus pleaded with the Father, “forgive them; for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34). Perhaps the most noble exercise of self-discipline lies in the willingness to set aside our anger, hurt feelings, and pain, and forgive those who have wronged us.
Which brings us back to Captain Moroni and Pahoran. After calmly explaining why he has yet to send reinforcements to Moroni, Pahoran writes, “And now, in your epistle you have censured me, but it mattereth not; I am not angry, but do rejoice in the greatness of your heart” (Alma 61:9; emphasis added). While many of us would react with anger or indignation, Pahoran shows a tremendous amount of temperance and self-control in his readiness to forgive and forget Moroni’s accusations. In my opinion, this epitomizes what it means to be like God. As is stated in Mosiah 26:22, God promises to “freely forgive” those who believe in Him. Forgiveness is vital in our quest for godliness; as Joseph Smith taught, “Ever keep in exercise the principle of mercy, and be ready to forgive [your] brother on the first intimations of repentance, and asking forgiveness; and should we even forgive our brother, or even our enemy, before he repent or ask forgiveness, our heavenly Father would be equally as merciful unto us” (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, 155).
That we may learn charity and godliness through the exercise of temperance is my prayer, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.
Of course, there is nothing new about this kind of civil disobedience. It was evidenced sublimely in the refusal of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego to obey the laws of Nebuchadnezzar, on the ground that a higher moral law was at stake. It was practiced superbly by the early Christians, who were willing to face hungry lions and the excruciating pain of chopping blocks rather than submit to certain unjust laws of the Roman Empire. To a degree, academic freedom is a reality today because Socrates practiced civil disobedience. In our own nation, the Boston Tea Party represented a massive act of civil disobedience.
We should never forget that everything Adolf Hitler did in Germany was "legal" and everything the Hungarian freedom fighters did in Hungary was "illegal." It was "illegal" to aid and comfort a Jew in Hitler's Germany. Even so, I am sure that, had I lived in Germany at the time, I would have aided and comforted my Jewish brothers. If today I lived in a Communist country where certain principles dear to the Christian faith are suppressed, I would openly advocate disobeying that country's antireligious laws.
Whatever qualms one might have with Mayor Rocky Anderson of Salt Lake City, I can't help but agree with his summation: "There's a dangerous culture of obedience throughout much of this country that's worse in Utah than anywhere." He described this culture in these words: "[it is] a culture where falling in line with authority is more important than choosing what is right, even if it is not easy, safe, or popular."
Many Christians, as well as members of other religious groups, feel anxiety, guilt and despair about what they call "loss of faith." But serious doubt is confirmation of faith. It indicates the seriousness of the concern, its unconditional character.Another passage on faith and doubt, this one from The Courage to Be (pp. 49-50):
Doubt is based on man's separation from the whole of reality, on his lack of universal participation, on the isolation of his individual self. So he tries to break out of this situation, to identify himself with something transindividual, to surrender his separation and self-relatedness. He flees from his freedom of asking and answering for himself to a situation in which no further questions can be asked and the answers to previous questions are imposed on him authoritatively. In order to avoid the risk of asking and doubting he surrenders the right to ask and to doubt. He surrenders himself in order to save his spiritual life. He "escapes from his freedom" (Fromm) in order to escape the anxiety of meaninglessness. Now he is no longer lonely, not in existential doubt, not in despair. He "participates" and affirms by participation the contents of his spiritual life. Meaning is saved, but the self is sacrificed. And since the conquest of doubt was a matter of sacrifice, the sacrifice of the freedom of self, it leaves a mark on the regained certitude: a fanatical self-assertiveness. Fanaticism is the correlate to spiritual self-surrender: it shows the anxiety which it was supposed to conquer, by attacking with disproportionate violence those who disagree and who demonstrate by their disagreement elements in the spiritual life of the fanatic which he must suppress in himself. Because he must suppress them in himself he must suppress them in others. His anxiety forces him to persecute dissenters. The weakness of the fanatic is that those whom he fights have a secret hold upon him; and to this weakness he and his group finally succumb.While I may not agree with Tillich in every particular, I like this idea that doubt is not the enemy of faith. Doubt is sometimes scary to the religious person; embracing and facing doubts does not guarantee that they will be resolved, and there exists a risk that the faith upon which one relies will be sacrificed in the bout. But I don't believe that doubt should be ignored or suppressed.
Often when I partake of the bread and water [of the sacrament] my mood is such that I ignore the benumbing possibility that human destiny is eternal death. Instead I contemplate the egregious, absurd, astonishing, miraculous proposition that on a certain resplendent morning the graves of all history will open and the incarcerated dead, one and all, will emerge into a new and everlasting life. In such a mood I allow my imagination to construct a Christian future....More later.
I am a Christian by yearning. Opposed to my doubt and perversity is a longing that the gospel be true. Christians are made, said the apostle Paul, of faith, hope, and charity. I have little charity and less faith, perhaps I have hope in some abundance. Often when I recognize how intensely I yearn for eternal life, I find myself elevated and encouraged. I find that my yearning has transformed itself into hope and I find myself responding to the sacrament as a ceremony of hope. On many Sundays while I participate in this solemn ritual, I ponder the possibility that Christ will one day resurrect me, and I am filled with gratitude that such a thing might come to pass....
...[I]n a sense it seems a pity to take one’s immortality for granted, to expect it and count on it. It seems a pity to be so sheltered from the terror of death that one’s gratitude for the resurrection is merely dutiful and perfunctory. Perhaps truly there are religious advantages to doubt. Perhaps only a doubter can appreciate the miracle of life without end.
Welcome to Grace Church
Where we welcome
All who worship
All who doubt
All who long to move from fear to faith
For the opposite of faith is not doubt
The opposite of faith is certainty
In an uncertain world, your doubts are welcome in this community of faith
Others have said similar things. For instance, the theologian Paul Tillich has written, "Doubt is not the opposite of faith; it is an element of faith" (Systematic Theology, Vol. 2).
Uncertainty is an element of faith. In the Book of Mormon, Alma teaches that "faith is not to have a perfect knowledge of things" (Alma 32:21). In other words, faith isn't about certainty; we must rely on faith by virtue of the fact that we don't have all the answers, we have a tendency to doubt, and the universe doesn't always make sense to us. If we were certain, then there would be no need for faith--"if a man knoweth a thing he hath no cause to believe, for he knoweth it" (Alma 32:18).
In "The Challenging and Testifying Missionary", President Alvin R. Dyer said that "The gospel of Jesus Christ is not knowledge. When people say they are glad to have a knowledge of Jesus they speak in what we call a manner of speech. The gospel is a feeling."
In other words, perhaps we sometimes overstate how much we actually "know" in the Church. Perhaps we view doubt, questioning, and uncertainty in too negative a light.I'll likely blog more on this later. But I wanted to get this topic out there.
Is there room for doubt in faith? What is doubt's relationship with faith? And what about certainty? What's it got to do with faith?
It is a faith that is real, all too real--gripping billions across the Muslim world in a new wave of fervor and fanaticism.But wait, isn't certainty something we want? Of course; "In today's unnerving, globalizing, sometimes terrifying world, such religious certainty is more in demand than ever." A certain faith in God's existence, in His omnipotence, and in the belief that He is on our side yields confidence, optimism, and a calming assurance that all will work for our own good. But this type of unbending faith doesn't necessarily lend itself to tolerance, understanding, dialogue, and interfaith relations. The belief that God is exclusively on your side can be downright dangerous in international relations. Ahmadinejad's confidence is not without parallel in the West. As Sullivan writes,
...That concept of the beneficent, omnipotent will of God and the need to always submit to it, whether we like it or not, is not new. It has been present in varying degrees throughout history in all three great monotheisms--Judaism, Christianity and Islam--from their very origins. And with it has come the utter certainty of those who say they have seen the face of God or have surrendered themselves to his power or have achieved the complete spiritual repose promised by the Books of all three faiths: the Torah, the Gospels, the Koran. That is where the smile comes from.
And religious certainty surely cannot be disentangled from George W. Bush's utter conviction that he has made no mistakes in Iraq. "My faith frees me," the President once wrote. "Frees me to make the decisions that others might not like. Frees me to do the right thing, even though it may not poll well. Frees me to enjoy life and not worry about what comes next." In every messy context, the President seeks succor in a simple certainty--good vs. evil, terror vs. freedom--without sensing that wars are also won in the folds of uncertainty and guile, of doubt and tactical adjustment that are alien to the fundamentalist psyche.The point:
When the Presidents of the U.S. and Iran speak as much about God as diplomacy, we have entered a newly dangerous era... Imagine the fanaticism of 16th century Christians, waging religious war and burning heretics at the stake. Now give them nukes. See the problem?
The bulk of his message was directed at the West, at its disavowal of religious authority and its embrace of what Benedict called "the subjective 'conscience.'" For Benedict, if your conscience tells you something that differs from his teaching, it is a false conscience, a sign not of personal integrity but of sin. And so he has silenced conscientious dissent within the church and insisted on absolutism in matters like abortion, end-of-life decisions, priestly celibacy, the role of women, homosexuality and interfaith dialogue.Sound familiar?
If God really is God, then God must, by definition, surpass our human understanding. Not entirely. We have Scripture; we have reason; we have religious authority; we have our own spiritual experiences of the divine. But there is still something we will never grasp, something we can never know--because God is beyond our human categories. And if God is beyond our categories, then God cannot be captured for certain. We cannot know with the kind of surety that allows us to proclaim truth with a capital T. There will always be something that eludes us. If there weren't, it would not be God.
Fundamentalism is not the only valid form of faith, and to say it is, is the great lie of our time.
...There is the faith that treats the Bible as a moral fable as well as history and tries to live its truths in the light of contemporary knowledge, history, science and insight. There is a faith that draws important distinctions between core beliefs and less vital ones--that picks and chooses between doctrines under the guidance of individual conscience.
There is the faith that sees the message of Jesus or Muhammad as a broad indicator of how we should treat others, of what profound holiness requires, and not as an account literally true in all respects that includes an elaborate theology that explains everything...
...From a humble faith comes toleration of other faiths.