"he hath led me through mine afflictions in the wilderness" (2 Ne 4:20)

This is an older post that I began writing one evening a week or two ago, and then fell asleep and never got back to.  Hence, when it says things like I'll be leaving my current job in a couple of weeks, no, I'm not crazy, and yes, I know my last day is Friday.

One evening late in my mission, my companion and  I were visiting the family of the Branch President in our area.  Their family was just fantastic-imperfect, like all of us, to be sure, but they were giving it their best go, and you knew it just from being around them.  As we left their home, I couldn't help but cry within myself, "I wish that I could teach a family like that!"  We were in the midst of a drought of people to teach.  Try as we might (and believe me, we did), we couldn't seem to get any kind of a progression from any of the people we taught.  We soldiered on resolutely, and shortly after my companion was transferred, the Lord reached out his hand to help.  Two of the most prepared, kindest, most wonderful people in the world seemed to just materialize out of nowhere, with a hunger in their souls, and a desire to do the right thing.  Not only did we missionaries love them, but we found that they seemed to love us, in a way that I found pretty much incomprehensible.  It was amazing.  The Spirit would later testify to me that the Lord's placing them in our path, specifically, was a direct result of my prayers and the desire that I felt that night at the Branch President's home.

This was when I began to really understand: the Lord loves His children, and just like any loving father, our Heavenly Father does want to give us not only the things that we need, but the things that we really, really want.  Insofar as they aren't bad for us, He will give them to us.  Even in cases where they aren't good for us, He sometimes allows them to teach us a lesson (think about Joseph Smith and the 116 lost pages).  Usually, I don't realize how merciful and kind these things are until after the fact.

For instance, about a week ago I accepted a summer internship opportunity with an engineering company in town.  Literally the day that I accepted it, I started receiving calls and emails about resumes that I had been sending out for months before.  This disturbed me somewhat at first, since I felt very strongly, both from my personal ideals, and from what I felt as I pondered it, that this was a job to take.  Why, I wondered, would the Lord keep me from at least looking at all the options before I responded?  A part of the answer came to me this evening as I was driving: it was what I had desired.

Let me sum up:

I love the job I have currently, and will be sad to leave it in a couple of weeks.  However, a month or so ago, my supervisor's supervisor decided that we ought to begin a rotating Sunday schedule.  Since I work for the Church, when I brought up my (legitimate) concerns about working on Sunday and/or missing all of my church meetings for work, my supervisor explained that the Brethren are aware of it, and it's the Lord's work to some degree.  I could see his point of view, but I felt very strongly: I have never worked a Sunday for any job I've worked before, and I felt like now was not the time to start.  The evening that the change was announced, I went home with this faith: if I would put forth my best effort to find another job where I wouldn't have to work Sundays, the Lord would make it possible for me to achieve my righteous desire.

At first, I was really excited, sending out a lot of resumes, sure I'd get a reply immediately.  But I didn't.  It seemed like I sent out dozens of them before I finally got a reply.  Just one reply.  That was all it took, though.  Before I knew it, I had an offer on the table for a great position doing things I love.  I was so excited that I didn't even think much of my earlier resolve.  And then the calls and emails started pouring back in from all the other resumes.  I didn't get it.

Until I was driving to my parents' house tonight: that's when it hit me.  I start the new job May 7.  The first Sunday I was scheduled to work at my current job: May 13 (the first Sunday after the job change).  The Lord, as He often does, took me right to the edge to test my resolve, but in the end, it worked out.  He is always aware--He knows the deepest yearnings of my heart and yours, and if we tell Him by word and by deed that we really want something, He's ready to help.

The Dating Dilemma

Author's note: As always, I do not intend to offend anyone with this post.  If it comes across as offensive to you, I do hope that you'll take it in the context of how it was meant: as one young man's feelings about his situation in life.

Here's the thing about dating: it turns out it's scary.  And unpredictable.  And impossible to get reliable data of any kind.  I mean, as an engineering student, I'm quite used to going out and trying to build empirical models of things that simply have too much complexity to model theoretically, but this one is simply over my head.

See, here's the thing (and maybe I shouldn't be posting this online where lots of people can see it, but whatever):
 Tonight we had a Stake Home Evening activity: square dancing.  It was a lot more fun than I anticipated, probably mostly because they basically conscripted everyone into participating.  Also, I managed somehow to get paired with this very pretty, kind young lady for most of the evening.  She seemed pretty swell, and I really wanted to catch up with her after the dancing (which is pretty hectic, and leaves little time for chatting, it turns out) was over, maybe try to set up a date, so I could get to know her better.  Unfortunately, as soon as the closing prayer was said, I caught one glimpse of her, and then she was gone.  Which left me with something of a dilemma.  Part of me said to just write it off and move on with my life, maybe hoping that we'll bump into each other at another activity or something.  Another part, however, (the go-getting, "Never give up! Never surrender!" part), said, hey, you have her first name and which ward she's in--why not look her up and just give her a call? What do you really have to lose?

This dilemma was further complicated, however, when I discovered that there were three girls with her same first name listed in the ward.

So, I guess here's the thing about dating: most of us guys are often left painted into this corner where we have to try to make a decision all of the time when we try to ask girls out.  See, some parts of society (romantic comedies, fairy tales, etc) seem to imply that the right kind of guy is persistent; he would scour a kingdom trying to find the girl whose foot fits in a certain slipper, or knock every door on a street in London looking for a specific girl if that's all the address he had.  He takes the information he has, and acts on it. 

On the other hand, though, we're constantly bombarded with complaints about guys who are "creepers", and the only line of differentiation that seems to exist is whether or not the attention a guy is giving a girl is desired...if she likes him, then he is attentive, and persistent.  If she doesn't like him, then he's a creeper.  And none of us want that.

Do you see the pickle that leaves us in?  Every time I go to ask a girl out, I have to ask myself whether I've talked to her enough times, whether I'm willing to risk whatever friendship we might have, whether she'll spread some kind of rumor about me being a total doofus who can't take a hint.  Most of the time for first dates, this isn't a terribly high risk, since I tend to ask mostly girls I don't know very well, but if it's gotten to the point of a second or third date (I've never been on a fourth, fyi), I start to have to wonder whether they're simply saying yes because they feel obligated, or whether they're actually interested in dating me; whether they're dropping hints that I'm not picking up on that should be saying "leave me alone!"

I've been lucky enough to generally associate with ladies who have been very kind and graceful towards me, but may I just say: ladies, do be kind.  We guys may come across as dumb or goofy, or maybe even a little creepy at times, but you have to realize that we don't know!  For instance, if I was to call all three of the girls with the same name in this other ward, it's completely uncertain from my point of view whether I'd get permanently labelled by all of them as a creeper, or whether it would be the kind of thing that would buy me points in all of their books.  Odds are good that there would be varying reactions to this from all women. Which means that us guys are left to give this thing our best shot, and then just put ourselves at your collective mercy.

So, I'll say it again: ladies, do be kind.

Thoughts on the Church/Corporation Relationship

For those readers not native to Downtown Salt Lake:
Recently the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints invested in developing a mall right next to Temple Square.  This has led, among some, to controversy about the Church's "for profit" ventures, and the corporate aspects of the Church.  This controversy is generally limited to those who would be opposed to anything that any religion has ever done; however, since this is something of a sore spot for some, and since most of the information (as is generally the case) that is being spread the loudest is generally of a negative nature, I felt like it would be a good idea to try to explain some of the reasoning behind what is going on here.  In no way should my views be construed to represent the official position of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  They are purely my own, although I feel they are founded soundly both in the doctrines of Christ, and in logical reasoning.  To those "That make a man an offender for a word...and turn aside the just for a thing of nought" (Isaiah 29:21), you're welcome not to read.  Nobody's forcing you.

To those who are upset about the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints' involvement in the City Creek venture and other "for profit" ventures, and/or who feel such involvement is hypocritical, may I point out a few things:

1) Take a walk down main street sometime.  Look at the businesses and services offered there.  Generally speaking, there's not much to speak of that's worthwhile in the way of "wholesome family activity". Further, might I point out that Harmon's is pretty much the only game around for some of us in terms of grocery shopping (meaning that there really wasn't anything before the City Creek project).  While City Creek may be making a profit, it is also beautifying and providing services in an area that most investors seem unwilling to make an effort.  In fact, the Church has waited years to invest there, hoping someone else would make the effort.

2) When it comes to "for-profit" ventures seeming to defy the words and example of Christ, could I just point out the parable of the talents?  Christ deplored people taking what was given to them and simply burying it; He taught self reliance, and "taking the initiative"...I, for one, am pleased to see that the Church is taking my tithing money, and investing it, in a manner that means that the most good will come from it, since they are investing it in ways that both aid communities, and give back to the Church coffers.  The alternative, for those of you who don't know, would be that the Church ask extra donations of every local member in order to build every Church building, requiring much of the cost of local meeting houses and temples at the hands of those who live around them.  What this would translate to is lots of nice Church buildings and temples in areas where Church member population is dense, and the people are well off (read: America, and especially Utah), but no Church buildings or temples to speak of, or much lower quality buildings in places (like my beloved India) where the people simply cannot afford the same kinds of donations.

3) To those concerned that the Church leaders are spending all of their time on ventures like this, and are "too busy to answer questions from the media", as someone put it: these concerns are not run directly by the Apostles or the Presidency.  Walk into an LDS distribution center some time, and take a look at the cash register.  They may not have the signs any more, but there used to be a sign at every register that said "Please make checks payable to the Corporation of the Presiding Bishopric".  The Presiding Bishopric is responsible for the handling of all of the temporal (meaning worldly--ie paying for buildings, managing business ventures, etc) affairs of the Church.  While members of the Quorum of the 12 and of the First Presidency of the Church were probably involved in the final approvals, at the end of the day the bulk of the work on things like this falls to the Presiding Bishopric.

I could continue to cite why I feel no qualms about ventures like this, but I suppose at the end of the day, it really won't matter to most.  Those who seek a place to argue and bring down will always find something to latch onto.  For those, however, who are members of the Church, and who do feel misgivings, may I point out another two things:

1) Men (and women) are fallible.  Although the Church is led and organized by a perfect God, soemtimes the people He delegates to make mistakes and are imperfect.  As it turns out, so do I, and, unless I'm very mistaken in assuming that at least one non-resurrected human being will read this, so do you.  Take it for what it is.

2) This Church is based upon modern revelation, both to individual members, and to its leaders.  If you have misgivings about what your leaders are doing, may I suggest that in almost every case I've observed, the problem has been with the objector, rather than the leader.  When we take the actions of righteous, inspired men to be offensive or hard, generally it bespeaks something about the strength of our testimony of the organization of the Church.  Are leaders fallible? Certainly.  Does the Lord generally allow men and women to be called to prominent leadership positions in the Church, knowing their hearts, and knowing that they would lead His Church and His children astray? Generally no. 
To me, this falls under basically the same head as accepting callings: if I have an issue with the calling that the Lord is offering me through His duly appointed servants, this indicates more to me a lack of testimony and faith on my side than it does a lack of revelation on the leader's side.  So, I guess what I'm saying is, before you go criticizing the leaders of the Church, look critically at the strength of your own testimony, and ask yourself where you stand spiritually.  As Nephi said to his brothers so many years ago when he found them disputing the revelations of their spiritual leader, "Have ye inquired of the Lord?" (1 Ne 15:8).

Thoughts on the American Dream

Author's Note: this post may offend some.  If my words seem insensitive, I apologize; however, I do not apologize for my opinions, as I feel they are founded in sound logical, economical, and spiritual reasoning.

“The Roman people need fed!”
The unemployed masses all pled
“We’re too busy, don’t work us!
We must see the Circus!”
I wonder—who’s making the bread…? " -Raymond Walther  (That's right.  I did that)

For the past several weeks, I think, this has been trying to work its way out.  It first really dawned on me as I walked from the Institute to the engineering building (approximately 1 mile, by the way).  See, the thing is, I don't have the funds to pay for a parking pass that would allow me to park at the engineering building, but I don't mind; this way, I force myself to get to Institute every week, and I get a fair bit of exercise.  But I digress.

During my (often several) daily walks between the engineering building and the Institute, I have a lot of time to ponder.  A point of especially serious concern is usually the problems faced by our generation, and how I plan to prepare my own family to withstand them.  One morning, a couple of weeks ago, it really hit me: the American Dream is our problem.

Well, that's not exactly true.  I'm not really sure when I first came to understand the meaning of the American Dream, but I recall a teacher explaining it when I was in third or fourth grade: that in America, a man (or woman) can be whatever they want, have whatever they want, if they're willing to work hard enough at it.  Somehow, though, I think our society was only half listening, and only caught the "In America, you can have whatever you want" part.  Then, they conflated "can have" with "should have", and then further conflated that with "deserve".  And thus we find ourselves today.

Most of the young men and women I meet at college seem to have the same attitude: find the easiest degree for them to obtain, and then get a job where they can pretend to be working 8 hours a day, and get paid for it.  Few people that I meet seem concerned with creating actual value through their labor nearly as much as they are with making money.  Take, for instance, the way that my concerns about poorly edited/poorly written contemporary literature are generally met with the argument, "But it sure made them a lot of money!"  The question is, if we're all sitting around getting overpaid to do little or no work, where is the value of money at all?  Someone somewhere must actually be producing things worth buying, or we wouldn't want the money to buy things with.  Eventually, though, the industrious few who support the lazy many will say, "Enough!", and then it will be a real pickle, because nobody will be eating at all.

In other words, let me break this down: if you can't afford it, save your shekels, don't try to buy it on someone else's dime (and that's what you're doing when you accept "the government's money", because that money was taken from someone else's paycheck); you don't deserve a big house, a car, a yard, or anything else just for the sake of the fact that you're alive.  I know families that live quite happily without owning any of those things. 

Don't get me wrong, I'm all for helping people out who need help, but I'm not for giving them everything that they think they need without requiring anything of them in return.  In the words of Christ, "the laborer is worthy of his hire." (Luke 10:7, emphasis added). I think too often we're so trained by the world and by our own flesh to avoid work, that we forget the real enjoyment and fulfillment that it brings.  The fact is, when we "help" others by handing out to them every little thing that they want, we deprive them of the most fundamental human right that they ought to be entitled to: self respect.  So, even if it means paying out of pocket for medical expenses because government funded insurance is too expensive for people who actually try to work it out; even if it means not owning my own home for a good long time; even if it means that I make less money than some other students I know simply because I actually have a job; even if it means making a lot of my own stuff (which, by the way, is way more fun, and cooler, anyway) because I can't afford things--I'll work it out.  Because, it turns out, half of the meaning of achieving the American Dream is being able to look back and say, "I did that.  Maybe I am worth a darn after all."

"Why seek [we] the living among the dead?" (Luke 24:5)

 "For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:38-39)

It is not often that I have dreams that I recall.  It is even more infrequent that I have dreams so vivid that when I awake I find myself still emotionally, if not physically, engrossed in the dream's content.  This morning was one of those.

I do not recall the exact details of most of the dream, but I remember there was a young boy, entangled in the harness of a parachute, dangling in the air and begging for help.  I and another helped him escape his entanglement.  No sooner had we done so than the boy immediately produced a small package from somewhere, and began to check its contents.  The package was clearly labelled as pornography, and the boy carefully checked its contents, labeling each thing within the package to be sure they were all there.  I and my companion (I really don't remember who this person was) begged the boy to be rid of it, told him that it was not a precious thing, but was in fact filth that ought to be cast aside.

At first, he would not listen, but the longer we pleaded, the more clear it became that the boy did want to be rid of it, but felt he could not; to do so was impossible.  When I awoke, I awoke concerned with how to convince this boy: there is no hole too deep, no addiction too powerful that Christ cannot reach in and help us up.  I have experienced his Atoning power to heal and help personally; his path may not seem easy at first, but the longer I seek to remain on it, the more I realize that the labors of Christ are so much better than the heartache and pain of laboring in sin.  Shortly before the culmination of His Atoning sacrifice, Christ told his disciples, "In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world." (John 16:33).  His power over sin and addiction is as real as His power over death and over the elements.  He is ready and waiting to help any who will but reach for His outstretched arm.

So, this Easter morning, with so many great men who have endured tribulation for His name's sake, and many who still do, I testify of this: He is the Rock and the Redeemer of Israel, and He is risen, the Son of the Living God.  His power is as real today as it ever was before.  As angels testified to the women of old at the tomb on that morning so long ago: "Fear not ye: for I know that ye seek Jesus...He is not here: for he is risen, as he said." (Matt 28:5-6)

Thoughts on heroism

"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.

"I give unto men weakness..."

Ether 12:27

I really, really like music.  And I especially like listening to music in my car.  I know, right now, you're probably wondering what that has to do with the title.  You'll figure it out; you figured out solid mechanics (if not, check out this and/or this), after all...you must be smart folks (or just gluttons for punishment, like I am).

So, about that title...

Last week, my ward was reorganized somewhat, to include many new members from another ward.  In reaction to this, our bishop decided that he would teach a combined Priesthood/Relief Society class this past week.  The topic: faith.  First of all, can I just say that my bishop is awesome?  That lesson gave me enough food for thought for weeks, and I missed about half of it.  "How," you may ask, "if this lesson was so wonderful, did you miss so much of it, Raymond?"

I wasn't asleep, if that's your concern.  I only do that during school classes...

No, the reason that I missed half of the lesson is that something he said was so thought provoking that it took me quite some time to capture what I gathered from it in a manner that I felt was satisfactory.  It was something he's said before, but it was like it just clicked right then.

He was discussing barriers to developing the rare, miraculous, great faith that is so needed in the Church and in our lives, and came to Ether 12:27 (Ha! told you I'd get to the title):

And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them.

After we read it, there was some discussion on the verse.  It was far from innovative; most everyone in the room had probably read the verse loads of times, and been lectured on it in Seminary or Institute or Sunday School or on a mission at least once.  And yet, when the bishop brought it back around to the point he was trying to make, it was a point that I'm not sure I've ever heard anyone else make:

Most of us seem to read that verse and see weakness as negative; we think of all of the things that we hate about ourselves, the things we wish that we could change, all the stupid things we say and do all of the time, etc.  And those are weaknesses, it's true.  The thing is, though, we seem to miss one very important word in there: God says that he gives us weakness.  In a sense, then, our weaknesses are, in fact, gifts from God--a part of this mortal experience that is necessary to our progression.

Like I said, I'd heard the bishop speak about this before.  But this time, it just clicked in a way that I had never really thought of before.  Because the things is, God doesn't only ask us to lay aside our weaknesses to follow him.  He asks us to bring everything that we have, everything that we are, and lay it at his feet. 

In The Great Divorce, by C.S. Lewis, the narrator is given something of a tour of heaven by an angel named George MacDonald.  In the course of their tour, the narrator watches as one woman, whose son we gather died very young, rejects even the help of her own brother (now in angelic form) because all she can think of is seeing her son again.  She cites the love of a mother, and pleads, implores, and finally demands that she be shown her son again before she is willing to do anything to qualify to enter.  In the end, her attachment would have her see her son join her in hell, rather than be separated from him. 

Immediately thereafter, the narrator watches as another man, plagued by lust (embodied in the form of a lizard whispering in his ear), finally lets go of his weakness, allowing angelic help to "kill" it.  Much to the narrator's surprise, however, the lizard does not disappear, but rather grows, until it becomes a magnificent stallion.  The man, now angelified, takes the reins of the extraordinary beast, mounts it, and as one they ride off into heaven. 

The narrator is justifiably perplexed, upon comparing these two scenes.  After all, is not love one of the noble emotions?  Ought not a mother be allowed to love her child?  Certainly this is not to be compared with the base lust of the man.  In reconciling the disconnect, George MacDonald explains to Lewis's narrator, "Nothing [in our nature], not even the best and noblest, can go on as it now is.  Nothing, not even what is lowest and most bestial, will not be raised again if it submits to death...Flesh and blood cannot come to [heaven].  Not because they are too rank, but because they are too weak. What is a lizard compared to a stallion?" (I don't think he's suggesting that men don't enter the presence of God with bodies, but rather that just as our bodies must be changed to withstand the glory of God, so must our natures)  He then asks, "if the risen body of appetite is as grand a horse as ye saw, what would the risen body of maternal love or friendship be?"

I guess that last is really the part that resonated.  Sort of. 

What I realized Sunday is that Heavenly Father is going to ask each of us to sacrifice things that are good things, things that we could feel justified in desiring in for our lives.  Without a real trust in God, these sacrifices can sometimes be harder than sacrificing something that is part of our nature but we don't like.  If the Lord hadn't blessed me with so many weaknesses and abhorrent character flaws that I really want His help in overcoming, then I'd have an even harder time than I do working through the other things He asks me to give up.