"Silence implies consent"
The thought came to me this morning--as thoughts often do. I mulled over it for quite some time, trying to find its essence, to understand it, to come to terms with what it really meant. It's frustrating, sometimes, seeing, thinking, knowing exactly what it is that you want to express, and yet it comes out flawed. No matter how many drafts I try at this, I doubt greatly that this will be any more than a shadow of the profundity that occured to me this morning. To some, it may seem pedestrian, a non-issue. Take it for what it's worth.
I've been studying the book of Mormon (as in the book written primarily by the Prophet Mormon, not the larger abridgement, of which it is a part) lately. Every time I read it, I can't help but be struck by the plight of Mormon and Moroni: alone, the last followers of Christ among their people. In institute a couple of weeks ago, my teacher posed the worthy question: what do you do in that situation? When it's lonely and scary to do the right thing, how do you keep on going?
As I got into the shower this morning, at least a part of the answer seemed to dawn on me unasked for:
In Mormon 8:35, Moroni says:
Behold, I speak unto you as if ye were present, and yet ye are not. But behold, Jesus Christ hath shown you unto me, and I know your doing.
The Lord showed him our day--showed him the followers of Christ in the Latter-days who would be reading the things that he and his father (and so many of his ancestors) sacrificed so much to protect and bring forth for us. And that's the thing: true heroism, the real deal, it's never about the hero, or the odds that face him. Mormon got the Nephites to stand boldly by recalling to them the lives of their wives and their children (Mormon 2:23); Captain Moroni's title of liberty focused primarily on reminding the people that they fought for their religion, and for their families. Perhaps the greatest examples of courage in all the scriptures are the stripling warriors, of whom it was said "they did think more upon the liberty of their fathers than they did upon their lives" (Alma 56:47)
I think that's what really motivates men to righteous courage. It's the difference between a hero and just a regular schmoe. To a hero, it's not nearly so important how many people stand against him as it is how many people depend upon him; no cost to himself--even if it be his own life--is too high, no obstacle insurmountable if it means he can aid the people that he loves.
Where are such men and women in our days? It seems to me that increasingly people (including myself) base their judgements of good or bad upon what the world says is right and good. The world screams that we ought not to "indoctrinate" children with religion, but rather teach them to "think for themselves", by allowing them to do whatever the world tells them is a good idea. Too often I am told that a movie or book is "good" by people who claim the same standards as I hold, only to find it abhorrent (and generally poorly written). Then, when I seek to voice my opinion, I find myself confronted on every side, and more often than not by those (again) who ought to stand beside me.
Don't get me wrong-I don't have all the answers. I certainly don't feel like I'm perfect. I fall short more often than not. Yet I look upon our generation, and I'm filled with concern as I watch men and women simply accepting whatever dreadfully icky course of entertainment the world would place before them, and then behaving as though I am the one in the wrong when I refuse to consume unquestioningly, simply based upon the fact that it's "popular."
So, to those whom I care about and offend often, know this: I say what I do because I care. When I speak with intesity and passion, it's most often because I feel like the things I'm saying are falling upon deaf ears, and I'm frustrated. I apologize for sometimes allowing my emotions to control me, but I will not apologize for the views that I present when they are firmly founded in things that you and I both claim to believe.
The thought came to me this morning--as thoughts often do. I mulled over it for quite some time, trying to find its essence, to understand it, to come to terms with what it really meant. It's frustrating, sometimes, seeing, thinking, knowing exactly what it is that you want to express, and yet it comes out flawed. No matter how many drafts I try at this, I doubt greatly that this will be any more than a shadow of the profundity that occured to me this morning. To some, it may seem pedestrian, a non-issue. Take it for what it's worth.
I've been studying the book of Mormon (as in the book written primarily by the Prophet Mormon, not the larger abridgement, of which it is a part) lately. Every time I read it, I can't help but be struck by the plight of Mormon and Moroni: alone, the last followers of Christ among their people. In institute a couple of weeks ago, my teacher posed the worthy question: what do you do in that situation? When it's lonely and scary to do the right thing, how do you keep on going?
As I got into the shower this morning, at least a part of the answer seemed to dawn on me unasked for:
In Mormon 8:35, Moroni says:
Behold, I speak unto you as if ye were present, and yet ye are not. But behold, Jesus Christ hath shown you unto me, and I know your doing.
The Lord showed him our day--showed him the followers of Christ in the Latter-days who would be reading the things that he and his father (and so many of his ancestors) sacrificed so much to protect and bring forth for us. And that's the thing: true heroism, the real deal, it's never about the hero, or the odds that face him. Mormon got the Nephites to stand boldly by recalling to them the lives of their wives and their children (Mormon 2:23); Captain Moroni's title of liberty focused primarily on reminding the people that they fought for their religion, and for their families. Perhaps the greatest examples of courage in all the scriptures are the stripling warriors, of whom it was said "they did think more upon the liberty of their fathers than they did upon their lives" (Alma 56:47)
I think that's what really motivates men to righteous courage. It's the difference between a hero and just a regular schmoe. To a hero, it's not nearly so important how many people stand against him as it is how many people depend upon him; no cost to himself--even if it be his own life--is too high, no obstacle insurmountable if it means he can aid the people that he loves.
Where are such men and women in our days? It seems to me that increasingly people (including myself) base their judgements of good or bad upon what the world says is right and good. The world screams that we ought not to "indoctrinate" children with religion, but rather teach them to "think for themselves", by allowing them to do whatever the world tells them is a good idea. Too often I am told that a movie or book is "good" by people who claim the same standards as I hold, only to find it abhorrent (and generally poorly written). Then, when I seek to voice my opinion, I find myself confronted on every side, and more often than not by those (again) who ought to stand beside me.
Don't get me wrong-I don't have all the answers. I certainly don't feel like I'm perfect. I fall short more often than not. Yet I look upon our generation, and I'm filled with concern as I watch men and women simply accepting whatever dreadfully icky course of entertainment the world would place before them, and then behaving as though I am the one in the wrong when I refuse to consume unquestioningly, simply based upon the fact that it's "popular."
So, to those whom I care about and offend often, know this: I say what I do because I care. When I speak with intesity and passion, it's most often because I feel like the things I'm saying are falling upon deaf ears, and I'm frustrated. I apologize for sometimes allowing my emotions to control me, but I will not apologize for the views that I present when they are firmly founded in things that you and I both claim to believe.
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