Only one hour of church

Today we only had one hour of church #Mormonproblems.  A power outage left our building without electricity, Since there are no windows in the restrooms and the heating is tied to the electricity, the meetings after Sacrament meeting were canceled.  I was glad we had Sacrament meeting: not only did we get to partake of the Sacrament (the most important part of our worship service) but I always enjoy meeting with everyone and taking the time to hear what is said.

Not that that wasn't problematic, either.  Without the microphone, the speakers were quieter and my toddlers louder (in relation to the speaker) than usual.  Keeping them extra quiet was more than a little distracting.

Regardless, it was a good meeting where we were reminded to turn all of our will over to the Lord, and of the joy of a Christ-centered life.  Yet once we left I seemed to feel that our Sabbath was incomplete.  I think I've figured out why: I didn't really help anyone else.

Half of our worship is individual: when we prepare for and take the Sacrament, we are individually assessing our week and approaching our Lord to ask for forgiveness and renew covenants with Him.  When we sit down to learn from our classes, it is our individual preparation for the class and attention to the Spirit that dictate how much we learn.

Yet the other half of our worship is communal.  Our church is divided into wards (perhaps because that is where we go for healing).  Every presidency has counselors, every priesthood holder is a member of a quorum, Think of it: absolutely every single one of our callings and assignments in the Church have the sole purpose of serving other people.

So while one hour of church may seem like a reprieve, it isn't really.  I may not have to struggle through teaching another Gospel Principles lesson, or plunk out another hour of Singing Time.  Others may not have to endure my Gospel Principles lessons (it's the same thing, over and over again!) or be confused by the many mistakes in my piano playing.  But without the lessons, we can't serve others.  We can't support our teachers by preparing for the lessons and giving meaningful participation during the lesson.  We can't serve our brothers and sisters by sharing our talents (such as they are) and helping them learn to share theirs.    When we unite as a Church, we do more than just make God happy.  By both in giving and receiving, we bless and are blessed by others.  And that's worth a couple of hours in my book.

Study of 1 Nephi 3: The sin of Despair

Reading through this chapter, it struck me (rather uncomfortably) at how familiar some of Laman and Lemuel's behavior is.  It seems to me that they aren't out and out villains: rather, they're lukewarm Saints, whose failings may be very similar to some of our own.  Consider that in this chapter alone, Laman and Lemuel are both persuaded to go to the effort to go back to Jerusalem.  Laman went alone to Laban to ask for the plates.  Furthermore, both Laman and Lemuel are persuaded to trade everything they own for the plates.  Had that one transaction been successful, they would have still been impoverished.

Think about that for a moment.  Laman and Lemuel were consciously cutting off their last ties with Jerusalem.  They didn't have their father there, they had already tried to get the plates.  By attempting to purchase the plates with the family fortune, they were literally giving what they thought was their all to the work.  It was a hard thing they had been commanded to do (Lehi didn't object to that part) and they were willing to trade treasures and riches in order to do it.  What caused them to backslide?  What caused them to betray the angelic visitation they had seen?

In a word, despair.  The medieval theologians referred to one of the deadly sins as "ascedia," something that is sometimes translated as sloth, but can also be translated as despair.  This spiritual malady is derived from a lack or misplacement of faith.  When Laman returned empty handed from his first attempt, all of the brothers, Nephi included, were "exceedingly sorrowful."   For Nephi, that failure didn't affect his motivation.  For Laman and Lemuel, it made them want to return to their family camped in the desert.  Note that they didn't try to resume their lives in Jerusalem.

Nephi, however, convinced his older brothers to trade all of their gold and valuables for this one set of the scriptures.  They agreed, and helped haul all of the stuff to Laban's.  They had to know that if Laban had agreed to the deal, that they would never again be able to live in Jerusalem.

Laban, of course, reneged on the deal and stole all of their treasures, perhaps teaching Nephi and his brothers (if they were wise) to not trust in treasure and mammon to do the Lord's work.  The brothers fled, and hid in a cave.

What happened next is a very human and natural failing: Laban and Lemuel despaired.  They were without their treasure (that was going to happen anyway) but now they had nothing to show for it.  They assumed that because things didn't appear to be going their way, that the Lord wasn't going to be with them.  They were faithless in the face of adversity, willing perhaps to give their "all" in the light of day and when things made sense.  Real faith, however, is willing to give our all in the dark of night and when things don't make a lot of sense.

In reality, Laban's sudden windfall caused him to celebrate, and drove him into the drunken stupor that killed him.  Those treasures caused his downfall (lesson, anyone?), though Laman and Lemuel couldn't see that.

How often do we despair?  How often is our faith tied to our perceived success?  We can't see all of the Lord's handiwork; how often does our effort seem to depend on how much we see the Lord do?

Laman and Lemuel had cold-blooded faith.  When things were warm and favorable (like hearing a powerful sermon, for example) they could be convinced to follow the Lord.  When things went badly, they spiraled down into selfishness and faithlessness.  Let us remain warm-blooded, and have our testimonies kindle our success, rather than the other way around.

Gloria!

Today's a rainy day.  I'm tempted to think that it's gloomy, and that I'd rather just waste my time on Facebook reading (very) mildly entertaining articles.  Also, that I'm hungry and have run out of ideas for this blog.

But then I thought about each raindrop that is falling from the sky.  Each drop is a collection of water molecules that have likely circled the globe (or at least a wide swath of North America and the Atlantic).  Each drop can nourish plant life or us; each drop, if frozen, can dazzle with beauty and symmetry.  Each drop is a gift from God.

He makes the rain fall so that the environment which surrounds us is the most conducive one for the benefit for our souls.  He is giving me now hundreds of thousands of tiny gift-wrapped parcels of H20 in order to create and maintain this physical space which, in turn, allows me to become a better person.

Each drop is wisely placed, in both time and location.  Each drop is carefully measured, and given with the most profound care.

So also for everything else.  The air we breathe, the food we eat, even the electrical impulses which course through our synapses, are all gifts from above.  Our luxuries, our trials, our leisure, our work; all come from Him.

Even our own efforts are marbled with His gifts.  I can type a blog post, but how much of that is really mine?  God gave me the Internet, this laptop, fingers, a working nervous system, a rudimentary amount of intelligence, the training to become literate, and a little bit of experience in writing.  He also gave me a commandment to keep the Sabbath day holy, and time on that Sabbath to think and to write.  Really, what do I own of this?

The only things that AREN'T a gift, the only things that we can claim as purely our own are our own choices.  And that agency, that ability to choose our path, was also once a gift.

So let's choose wisely.  Let's look for the beauty and the blessings of a gloomy afternoon.  Let's see what God would have us see rather than be content with the inane ramblings of Babble-on.  Most of all, let's praise God, not just in word and in song, but in our hearts.  Because he's giving us hundreds of thousands of presents right now, even if it doesn't seem like it.

But I'm angry!!!

Yesterday evening I had the...pleasure...of working with an inmate who was being disruptive.  He had been promised the opportunity to work, but circumstances made it such that he couldn't.  He was told he wouldn't be able to, but that he could work the next day.

The inmate got angry.  More angry, in fact, than any rational person ever needs to be.  When the chips settled, he was in paper clothing, sitting on a concrete bunk, with hard restraints on his hands, feet, and around his waist.  I accompanied the lieutenant as he spoke with the inmate, trying to convince the inmate to just settle down so they could take off the restraints.

What the inmate said was troubling and may reflect some of the opinions we hold here on the outside.  Over and over again, the inmate repeated, "I was angry," as if that explained and even excused his aggression against staff and other inmates.  It seemed to me that the inmate believed that he had been required to act on his anger by engaging in highly disruptive behavior.

Do we believe that our emotions require action?  The vast majority of us won't end up in prison, nor will we do the things inmates do.  But do we also do self-destructive things simply because we are angry, confused, lonely, or upset?  Do we allow hunger, thirst, lust, fear, or even boredom to dictate our actions?

I believe that the main purpose of mortality is the have us learn to experience, and to master, these impulses.  They are given to us by God, so they are important, and we have much to learn from them.  But we must learn from them, and not be directed by them.  Instead, we are directed by reason and by faith.

When our Lord and Savior was on the earth, he lived a normal life perfectly.  It was filled with fear, hunger, thirst, and even despair ("My god, my god, why hast thou forsaken me?")  He felt all things we feel, and yet He had the goodness to do the right regardless of what mortal impulses were yelling at him to do.

He is our Exemplar.  When we have a trial we do not want to face, a hunger that must be sated NOW, regardless of consequences, when we are tired and don't want to bother with the next difficult thing the Lord would have us do, we should remember His example.  His willingness to master Himself saved us all, and now He gives us the chance to do so ourselves.