General Conference Odyssey

Saving the Lost Battalions

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This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey series.

Until last week, I had never heard of Dietrich von Hildebrand. Then my father told me that it was important for me to read one of this books, The Heart, and lent me the copy that had been traveling back and forth between his study and my mother’s.

Von Hildebrand was a Roman Catholic philosopher and theologian who live in Germany until his outspoken criticism of Adolf Hitler meant he had to flee to Austria. He fled to France next, after Hitler annexed Austria, and then from France to the US (by way of Brazil) after the Germans invaded France as well. Pope Benedict respected him so much that he said “When the intellectual history of the Catholic Church in the twentieth century is written, the name of Dietrich von Hildebrand will be most prominent among the figures of our time.”

In The Heart, Hildebrand argues that the heart (by which he means the metaphorical heart, the “affective sphere” or, more simply, our emotions) has been “under a cloud throughout the entire course of the history of philosophy.” Going back to the ancient Greeks, the emphasis has always been on rationality, with reason regarded as a weakness or a defect. Hildebrand argues that—while of course emotions are susceptible to error—that the heart is an equally important aspect of our human experience.

In particular, Hildebrand separates different kinds of feelings. On one end of the scale, you’ve got raw biological facts: things like hunger or exhaustion which we call “feelings.” On the other end of the scale, you’ve got the reaction we feel to exquisite music, or to stories of great moral courage and sacrifice, which we also call “feelings.” Using the same word to describe such disparate events, is, according to Hildebrand’s argument, a major reason that we don’t take the heart as seriously as we should.

For Hildebrand, the heart is capable of great nobility when it unites intellect and emotion in a response to truth and beauty. So much so, that loving the good is superior to merely knowing or recognizing the good. As he writes:

The transcendence proper to the value-response reaches even further than in knowledge. The fact that our heart conforms to the value, that the important in itself is able to move us, brings about a union with the object which goes even further than in knowledge. For in love the totality of the person is drawn more thoroughly into the union established with the object then in knowledge. We must not forget, moreover, that the type of the union proper to knowledge is necessarily incorporated in love.

This echoes something that Anglican bishop and scholar N. T. Wright wrote in Surprised by Scripture:

Just because it takes agape to believe the Resurrection, that doesn’t mean all that happened was that Peter and the others felt their hearts strangely warmed. Precisely because it is the love we are talking about, not lust, it must have a correlative reality in the world outside the lover. Love is the deepest mode of knowing because it is love that while completely engaging with reality other than itself, affirms and celebrates that other-than-self reality.

So, according to both Von Hildebrand and Wright, love surpasses knowledge, for one. And, as a corollary, affective (i.e. emotional) responses can be full of nobility. Quoting Hildebrand one more time:

To be moved by some sublime beauty in nature or in art or by some moral virtue, such as humility or charity, is to allow ourselves to be penetrated by the inner light of these values and to open ourselves to their message from above. It is a surrender which implies a reverence, humility, and tenderness.

Why am I sharing all of this with you? Simple: this is what I had in mind as I found myself crying while I read the last talk from the Tuesday Morning session of the April 1971 General Conference. That talk in question is Lost Battalions. The title is fairly familiar, but I’m pretty sure that’s because I have read about the Lost Battalion in question. The talk, as far as I can tell, was completely unknown to me before I read it last week as part of the General Conference Odyssey.[ref]Which, in a nutshell, is why we’re doing the General Conference Odyssey.[/ref]

Now, I’ll have a hard time quoting you my favorite passages because after a while I gave up highlighting the talk on LDS.org. It just looked like a wall of yellow. For that, y’all will just have to go read it yourselves. [ref]Really, it’s worth your time.[/ref] Instead of specifics, I want to talk about the overall arc of the piece.

I wondered, at the outset of the piece, about the juxtaposition of the story of the Lost Battalion with the Christ’s message of love. Juxtaposing a story of military heroism with Christ’s message of love in the Gospel of John was, to put it mildly, arresting. If your model of Christlike love is fighting in combat, then you’re going to be raising some fairly difficult questions.

But it was I who was missing the point, because instead of treating the story of the Lost Battalion as the pinnacle of the story—the example to which we strive—instead the talk turned immediately from the literal Lost Battalion of World War I to the lost battalions all around us. First: the “lost battalions” of “the handicapped, even the lame, the speechless, and the sightless.” Next came more “lost battalions”: the elderly, the sick, and broken and estranged families.

In these cases there was a stark challenge, and it was one perfectly tailored to a nation steeped in a tradition of deference of military heroism: if you admire the heroism of World War I stories, then be a hero by donating your time to help the people who need you in your own neighborhood. Go read to the blind. Go give food to the hungry. Quench your anger and reach out in love to your family. The conventional narrative of militaristic self-sacrifice was slowly being co-opted into a message of practical, mundane, every-day service.

These passages were beautiful, both the prose and the stories, but it didn’t stop there. The biggest “lost battalion” is all of us. All of us who “struggle in the jungles of sin” or “wander in the wilderness of ignorance.”

In reality, each one of us is numbered in what could well have been the lost battalion of mankind, even a battalion doomed to everlasting death.

But our battalion isn’t lost. It’s already been saved. The talk cites the angel’s words to the women at Christ’s empty tomb, “Why seek ye the living among the dead?” and then concludes:

With this pronouncement, the “lost battalion” of mankind—those who have lived and died, those who now live and one day will die, and those yet to be born and yet to die—this battalion of humanity lost had just been rescued.

I’d had misgivings at the outset about using a war story as the model for Christ-like love, but by the end I realized I had it all backwards. The real war—and the real war story—is the Gospel. The true struggle is the spiritual one, and the one true hero is Jesus Christ.

I haven’t mentioned the author yet. That’s because I read the talk without checking the author first. And so at the end I scrolled back to the top. It makes sense now—given the preponderance of stories and the overall style—but I was surprised when I read the name of Thomas S. Monson. My favorite talk of the odyssey thus far was given by the man who is currently the President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Now, here are a couple of snippets from other talks that I particularly liked.

“The Spirit Beareth Record” (Elder Boyd K. Packer)

There are those who hear testimonies borne in the Church, by those in high station and by members in the wards and branches, all using the same words—“I know that God lives; I know that Jesus is the Christ,” and come to question, “Why cannot it be said in plainer words? Why aren’t they more explicit and more descriptive? Cannot the apostles say more?”

How like the sacred experience in the temple becomes our personal testimony. It is sacred, and when we are wont to put it into words, we say it in the same way—all using the same words. The apostles declare it in the same phrases with the little Primary or Sunday School youngster. “I know that God lives and I know that Jesus is the Christ….

To one who is honestly seeking, the testimony borne in these simple phrases is enough, for it is the spirit that beareth record, not the words.

I had this very much in mind today as I listened to the testimonies in my ward. Men and women, old and young, stood and bore their testimonies, saying at the conclusion of each: “I know that Jesus is the Christ”[ref]Or very similar words.[/ref]

And I was struck by Elder Packer’s observation, that both the General Authorities of the Church and the kids in primary express their testimonies in the same way. It’s kind of beautiful, if you think about it, and I definitely kept Elder Packer’s warning in mind: “We would do well not to disregard the testimonies of the prophets or of the children.”

Practicing What We Preach – Elder Marion D. Hanks

I was struck by a story Elder Hanks told about his sister’s family holding family home evening in the hospital, around his gravely ill sister’s bed:

Her husband and family were surrounding her bed, holding their family home evening, led by their fourth missionary son just returned from foreign fields. I joined them, and then went home rejoicing and thanking God for that kind of example, and met my own family who were waiting, and prayed that we might do a better job of practicing what we preach.

I was struck by a General Authority telling a story of a family that, implicitly, was doing things better than his own family. Of a General Authority telling us, over the pulpit, that he looked up to his sister’s family, and wanted to do better a job with his own. It was refreshingly humble, vulnerable, and real.

Marriage Is Intended to Be Forever – Elder James A. Cullimore

I highlighted an awful lot of this talk, but in general two things stood out.

First, I was surprised at how clearly the same points that the Church has brought up in the recent debates over same-sex marriage were clearly articulated back in 1971 when same-sex marriage was the last thing on anyone’s mind. There have been many who believe that the Church’s position is either inertia at best (well, this is how things have always been done) or outright bigotry at worst. But, reading this talk, it’s impossible to ignore the fact that the Church’s emphasis on the role of the family as it was expounded in the recent political debates is exactly the same as what Elder Cullimore was talking about when the biggest perceived threat to marriage was divorce. For example:

Marriage is a sacred relationship entered into primarily for the rearing of a family, in fulfillment of the commandments of the Lord.

And:

President McKay said, in reference to the seriousness with which we enter the marriage contract: “… to look upon marriage as a mere contract that may be entered into at pleasure in response to a romantic whim, or for selfish purposes, and severed at the first difficulty or misunderstanding that may arise, is an evil meriting severe condemnation, especially in cases wherein children are made to suffer because of such separation.”

I don’t expect to change anyone’s mind with these quotes. That’s not my point. My point is simply that the Church’s stance on this issue—whatever you think about it—is pretty clearly based on genuine, sincere, and serious religious commitment rather than ignorance or hate.

The second thing that struck me was the way Mormons insist on having their cake and eating it too when it comes to romantic and pragmatic views of marriage. And I mean this in the best way possible.

The most amazing thing is that, in general, I think we manage it. We have both the romance and the pragmatism. Maybe it’s even because of the pragmatism that we have the romance. A firm foundation provides the basis for trust and vulnerability that allows romance to flourish. And it’s possible that it’s because of the romance that we have the pragmatism. Mormons are willing to make sacrifices and concessions to preserve what we value so highly: marital romance.

One thought along those lines:

I suppose there is no surer need in marriage than constant compromise. It is through compromise that we grow closer to each other. As we acknowledge our own faults and recognize the virtues in the other and make the adjustments, we strengthen our marriage.

I’ll just add my own perception to this: there’s very little that is more toxic to a marriage than an emphasis on fairness, equality, or justice. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying those things don’t matter. But in a relationship where abuse is not a concern, then emphasizing justice is basically the absolute worst way to handle conflict in your marriage. Justice is about what you deserve. It means that disagreements are seen as conflicts. And justice automatically mitigates against compromise and flexibility. If it would be “fair” for your spouse to do something, then if you give in and your spouse doesn’t do that thing, it’s unfair. You are a victim, your spouse is an aggressor, and there is now a rift between you. The result is either bitterness or recrimination. The best way forward—and again, I’m talking about marital problems in a relationship without abuse—is to abandon fairness as a concept. Instead, trust your spouse. Focus on making them happy and forgetting anything that bothers you. More than anything else: trust your spouse. You married them for a reason. Your love your spouse. Your spouse loves you. Chances are, anything you could complain to your spouse about, he or she already knows and is already working on. Give him or her a chance to do that without pressure or a sense of obligation. (And definitely without a sense of guilt! Leave justice out of it.) And then concentrate on doing the same yourself: you already know what you need to work on. So work on it.

Two people who are both trying to improve for eachother and both trying to give the other slack are two people who are going to be happy and in love and at peace a long, long time before either one of them is anything that looks like perfect. But two people who are constantly evaluating the other’s actions and behavior against an “objective” standard[ref]No such thing exists in a marriage anyway.[/ref] are going to find that even if they were on the very threshold of perfection there would still be conflict, strife, and hostility.

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These are the other posts from the General Conference Odyssey this week.

Comforting the Afflicted and Afflicting the Comfortable

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St Michael Defeating Lucifer's Army, by Luca Giordano (MediaWiki Commons)
St Michael Defeating Lucifer’s Army, by Luca Giordano (MediaWiki Commons)

This is the fifth week of the General Conference Odyssey, and we’re covering the talks from the Sunday Afternoon Session of the April 1971 General Conference. Before I get to the talks, however, I’m going to start with three disparate exhibits.

Exhibit A: Affliction and Comfort

You’ve probably heard some variant of the phrase, “afflict the comfortable and comfort the afflicted.” American humorist Finley Peter Dunne (writing as the fictional Mr. Dooley) penned the original.

Th newspaper does ivrything f’r us. It runs th’ polis foorce an’ th’ banks, commands th’ milishy, controls th’ ligislachure, baptizes th’ young, marries th’ foolish, comforts th’ afflicted, afflicts th’ comfortable, buries th’ dead an’ roasts thim aftherward”.

It’s supposed to be about newspapers, but I’ve always felt it applied much better to the Church. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is a welcome haven for wayward sinners, but for those of us who are comfortable it can seem more like a frustrating and confusing bootcamp than a quiet refuge. That is not a bug. It is a feature.

Exhibit B: The Military Mental Model of Mormonism

One of the most important bloggernacle posts I’ve ever read is “The Military Mental Model of Mormonism.” In it, MC contrasts two models of Mormonism, the military model and the school house model. According to the schoolhouse model:

mortality is sort of like a giant high school where we are primarily here for self-improvement, and where the ultimate goal is to get good grades and hopefully be one of 50 million or so people tied for valedictorian[ref]I’d describe it as a slightly more personal variant of moralistic therapeutic deism[/ref]

The schoolhouse model is optimally suited for comfortable people leading comfortable lives, and it has a lot of truth to it. However, it also has pretty serious drawbacks. The military model is not perfect either, but it has the potential to explain aspects of Mormonism that seem irredeemably problematic under the schoolhouse model.

I embarked on this General Conference Odyssey not because I found General Conference talks soothing and enjoyable but because I found them challenging. (You can see that in the Times and Seasons post I wrote before the Odyssey started: The Assurance of Love.)

For the first four weeks, I was pleasantly surprised by the talks I read, however. I wasn’t challenged by the talks. I was predominantly comforted, impressed, and reassured. You can see that in my posts from the third and fourth weeks: “Love Fervently” and “The Mormon Way to Love.”

For this fifth week, however, the talks were a little harder on me, however. And—as I alluded to earlier—I think that pattern is a feature rather than a bug. Christ’s Church is a shelter first, but once you start to feel comfortable it begins to feel more like an obstacle course.

President Harold B. Lee’s talk “The Iron Rod,” (the first in the session) seemed very stern to me. It includes surprisingly strong language that appears very political, as in his recounting of a friend’s statement that “A liberal in the Church is merely one who does not have a testimony.”[ref]I’m not a liberal, so you might think I would enjoy this kind of frank talk. I don’t. It troubles me. Some of that might be that I don’t fully understand the way “liberal” was used, of course, but it’s troubling nonetheless.[/ref] Then he quoted Dr. John A. Widstoe:

The self-called liberal [in the Church] is usually one who has broken with the fundamental principles or guiding philosophy of the group to which he belongs. … He claims membership in an organization but does not believe in its basic concepts; and sets out to reform it by changing its foundations…It is folly to speak of a liberal religion, if that religion claims that it rests upon unchanging truth.

Elder Bruce R. McConkie also spoke during this session, and his talk “The Lord’s People Receive Revelation” contained more of what Laman and Lemuel might have called “hard things.”

“We do not come to a knowledge of God and his laws through intellectuality, or by research, or by reason,” declares Elder McConkie. Instead, revelation is the key. “Unless and until a man has received revelation, he has not received religion, and he is not on the path leading to salvation in our Father’s kingdom.”

He further elaborated the pitfalls of intellectualism:

I know people who can talk endlessly about religion but who have never had a religious experience. I know people who have written books about religion but who have about as much spirituality as a cedar post. Their interest in gospel doctrine is to defend their own speculative views rather than to find out what the Lord thinks about whatever is involved. Their conversations and their writings are in the realm of reason and the intellect; the Spirit of God has not touched their souls; they have not been born again and become new creatures of the Holy Ghost; they have not received revelation.

This is, to me, a fairly harsh line to take. If someone has “never had a religious experience,” my reaction would be one of concern first and foremost. But Elder McConkie’s stance seems to run the risk of compounding the sense of failure such an individual might feel when he says, for example, that “God stands revealed or he remains forever unknown.”

So I have explained some of the things that troubled me in these talks. Now I will talk about working my way through them.

Let’s start with something I mentioned at the outset: the Church ought to make you uncomfortable from time to time. This is true even in the schoolhouse model. When discussing secular education, we often talk about the need for children to be challenged. Well, being challenged is not always comfortable. It means stretching beyond what is comfortable. It implies being asked to do things you have never done before and are, in a sense, not ready for yet. In the Church we are always learning, and we learn by doing.

Additionally, the entire point of having a prophet is to have someone who can warn you of danger when you don’t recognize the danger for yourself. Of course there are times when—upon being given a warning—you will immediately look and see the danger yourself. In that case, gratitude is easy and instant. But the most valuable warnings are those which tell you to beware of something that you already see, but that you think is not dangerous. A grateful reaction is not as automatic in these cases. For starters, you might simply refuse to believe the warning, especially at first. What’s to be grateful for, if there’s no danger? Moreover, if someone is telling you not to do something and you can’t see any good reason for their restrictions, then there might be resentment at being bossed around. And lastly, there’s a risk that even if you do see the danger you will begrudge a sense of embarrassment that you didn’t see the problem yourself first. If a prophet is doing their job, then they are not very popular. That’s the whole point.

Now, the leaders are not perfect. If they were, this would all be very simple. We could simply turn off our brains and do what we’re told. Just as relevantly, the General Authorities give general advice. It’s up to us to understand where and how to apply what we hear in our own lives. There will be exceptions, and there isn’t a comprehensive guide to each and every possible exception. This means we cannot pass the buck to the leaders: we have to decide for ourselves what we’re going to do with their counsel.

But—given our understanding of a prophet’s role—we should be careful that dismissing their words as incorrect is not our first recourse. If you’ve got a prophet, you should use the prophet. And that means that you do your utmost to second-guess your own beliefs, your own cultural assumptions, and your own expertise. You can’t learn unless you’re willing to be taught, and there are times when you can’t receive more and better if you’re not willing to let go of what you’re currently holding.

And so, returning to Elder McConkie’s talk, something he said is worth highlighting: “It is the right of members of the Church to receive revelation.” His talk will be utterly incomprehensible without understanding that precept. At a minimum, it means that we can (and should) understand his stern statements regarding those who have not received revelation not as condemnation for failure, but rather as encouragement.

I also found Elder Hartman Rector, Jr.’s talk “Ignorance is Expensive” interesting. We’re all familiar with the idea that a theme develops in General Conference sessions, often when the talks touch upon the same themes in the same ways. But in this case Elder Rector’s talk—which immediately followed Elder McConkie’s—tackled many of the same themes with different emphasis.

In contrast to the almost anti-intellectual tones of Elder McConkie’s talk, Elder Rector’s seemed downright intellectual, using terms like “intelligence,” and “enlightened.” “We all should place the pursuit of light and truth, or intelligence, uppermost in our selection of goals, since we may have them eternally,” he said.

He also tackled head-on the issue of why we sometimes have difficulty receiving the light we seek:

But why do we receive not the light? The Lord tells us why over and over again in the scriptures. Simply stated, the reason we do not learn is because we are not in condition to learn. We are not in condition to receive the light because we are not willing to receive it. We just plain don’t want it.

We are prone to say that we are waiting on the Lord to receive light and truth when, as a matter of fact, the Lord is waiting on us—waiting for us to get into condition so he can reveal the light we seek and so desperately need.

Most importantly, he explained that “commandments are calculated to get us in condition so that we can receive light and truth, even intelligence.”

Elder Rector’s talk flowed seamlessly into Elder Loren C. Dunn’s (Drink of the Pure Water), which emphasized this importance of keeping commandments to revelation-seeking, and delineated what that revelation might look like:

If things go properly, you’ll notice some by-products, such as a growing awareness and concern for your fellowman and greater appreciation and consideration for other people.

Elder Bernard P. Brockbank’s talk (Love of God) and Elder Joseph Anderson’s (Eternal Joy is Eternal Growth) also had interesting insights into the idea of commandments. “The price the Lord has asked us to pay to be delivered from evil is to sincerely ask him,” said Elder Brockbank. In other words: the Lord stands ready to bless as soon as we are willing to receive the blessings. And “commandments are God’s laws—nature’s laws too,” said Elder Anderson, emphasizing that God’s laws are not capricious or arbitrary demands but rather wise and benevolent directions. God isn’t bribing us to jump through hoops. He’s trying to teach us to be like him.

So here are my thoughts on a session that was, at least initially, rather hard for me to read.

First, keep in mind the military model. The stakes are high and the decisions are real. This explains a lot of apparently troubling aspects of our faith: both individual commands and also the entire, hierarchical aspect of the Church. We are here to learn, but we’re learning under fire, as it were. Parents sometimes yell at their children out of love, for example not to run out into a busy street. Even if that is not A+ parenting, it shouldn’t be conflated with a lack of love or an unrighteous desire to dominate. Thus: even if our leaders do err in some ways, we should not assume that it is out of some kind of warped, selfish motive.

Second, keep in mind that discomfort is a feature, not a bug. We’re creatures of least resistance. We need to be prodded. And no one likes to be prodded. So you shouldn’t expect to feel comfortable in the Church. At least, not all the time. Sometimes it is a refuge. Other times, however, it is more akin to physical (spiritual) therapy.

Third, read what the leaders have to say in context. And not just in context of their own talks, but in context of how different leaders talk about the same issues. We have Twelve Apostles for a reason. We have dozens of Seventies for a reason. Revelation is neither easy nor precise. Not even for our leaders. But if we integrate their words together, I believe we can best discern the message that our Father has for us.[ref]In this case, the message I got was an emphasis on experienced religion that takes personal revelation seriously and also offers a road map on how to get it (via obedience) along with an accompanying discussion of why and how that method works.[/ref]

Which, when you think about it, is kind of the point of the General Conference Odyssey. No more cherry-picking what strokes your ego or what stokes your indignation. The goal is to read everything (at least starting in 1971). We’ll see where that takes us.

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Other General Conference Odyssey blog posts for this week:

You can also check out the full index of all posts so far here.

“And If It Be In You It Shall Abound”

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Another week, another session of conference. I’m going to start this overview of the Sunday afternoon session of the April 1971 conference with some of the least memorable parts.

From Gilgal Sculpture Garden in Salt Lake City

Theodore M. Burton makes the comparison between Daniel’s “stone…cut out of the mountain” (Dan. 2:44-45) and the modern church. Nothing really new or interesting. One should consult David J. Whittaker’s excellent article “The Book of Daniel in Early Mormon Thought” or Cheryl Bruno’s insightful blog post “Breaking Things in Pieces: Early Mormons and Daniel 2:44” for some contextualization of the Mormon interpretation of Daniel.

Bernard Brockbank’s talk struck me as just another roundabout way of saying, “If you love God, pay your tithing.” I never find this kind of talk inspiring or even effective. I’d much rather see tithing’s connection to consecration highlighted, but too often our cultural and historical conception of tithing is wrong.[ref]This excerpt from D. Michael Quinn’s The Mormon Hierarchy: Extensions of Power is a helpful overview of the evolution of tithing.[/ref]

In the most Southern Baptist-sounding talk I’ve ever heard in General Conference, Hartman Rector, Jr. provides the quotable phrase, “Ignorance is expensive.” While he doesn’t develop this thesis in an entirely satisfying way, I think he sums up his point well with the following:

But why do we receive not the light? The Lord tells us why over and over again in the scriptures. Simply stated, the reason we do not learn is because we are not in condition to learn. We are not in condition to receive the light because we are not willing to receive it. We just plain don’t want it.

We are often unwilling to do what is necessary to receive the light. This relation between knowledge and action reminds me of the late biblical scholar John L. McKenzie, who translated hesed in the Hebrew Bible as “covenant-love,” viewing it as a parallel to the “knowledge of God” in the book of Hosea: “[K]nowledge, to the Hebrew, was not a mere intellectual apprehension, but a vital union of possession. Knowledge of Hebrew morality did not mean ethical science, but a vital union with the traditional morality which qualified the whole human life; one knows this morality by having it, by living it.”[ref]McKenzie, “Knowledge of God in Hosea,” Journal of Biblical Literature 74:1 (March 1955): 27.[/ref]

Joseph Anderson states that eternal life consists “not only [of] eternal existence but eternal growth and activity. This is the joy of which Lehi spoke.” I would’ve liked to hear more about this “eternal growth and activity” given some of my research into a Mormon theology of work. But this largely serves as a springboard for his discussion on the importance of obedience, with the grace of Christ being largely associated with the resurrection.

Now we move into more interesting territory.

Harold B. Lee provides a fantastic quote from a Columbia University theologian that I think captures the essence of what religion actually is: “Religion represents the accumulation of man’s insight over thousands of years into such questions as the nature of man, the meaning of life, the individual’s place in the universe. That is, precisely, the question at the root of man’s restlessness.” Lee blasts those “liberals” who attempt to answer this inner restlessness with man-made theories. Lee doesn’t hold back. He describes these liberals as “the scoffers in Lehi’s vision,” those who “read by the lamp of their own conceit” (quoting Joseph F. Smith), and “one who does not have a testimony.” While likely overly harsh, it is a reminder that the scriptures not only tend to condemn the rich, but the learned as well. Lee believes that “more professors have taken themselves out of the Church by their trying to philosophize or intellectualize the fall of Adam and the subsequent atonement of the Savior.” This may be true, but if so, we should be very careful in our dismissal of things like the Trinity due to their supposedly “incomprehensible” nature when we can’t even explain a central doctrine like the Atonement. Nonetheless, Lee provides this important reminder: “Conversion must mean more than just being a “card carrying” member of the Church with a tithing receipt, a membership card, a temple recommend, etc. It means to overcome the tendencies to criticize and to strive continually to improve inward weaknesses and not merely the outward appearances.”

The talks by Bruce R. McConkie and Loren C. Dunn go hand-in-hand and nicely complement Lee’s above. McConkie reminds us that “we cannot comprehend what is involved [in scripture] until we see and hear and experience for ourselves.” This is because “the only way to gain true religion is to receive it from the Lord. True religion is revealed religion[.]” While McConkie–without a hint of irony–disdains those who “defend their own speculative views rather than to find out what the Lord thinks about whatever is involved,” he does emphasize the most essential element of the spiritual life: “Religion must be felt and experienced.” Dunn recalls a story in which he challenged a couple doubting young men to a three-month experiment in which they would reintegrate certain aspects of the gospel back into their lives: attend church meetings, say personal prayer, keep the Word of Wisdom, read the Book of Mormon, etc. According to Dunn, this was a way to see if the young men’s doubts “represented the symptoms of their problem and not the cause. Wasn’t their real question whether or not this church is true? Whether or not it is actually the Church of Jesus Christ? And whether or not it is led by divine revelation?” He admits that “what was really hoped for was the experience that every member has a right to enjoy and everyone else has the right to receive, and that is the knowledge of a personal testimony.” Dunn’s challenge reminds me of a similar one put forth by Eastern Orthodox philosopher David B. Hart:

It cannot be gainsaid that Christians have faith in Easter largely because they belong to communities of believers, or that their faith is a complex amalgam of shared confession, personal experience, spiritual and ethical practice, and reliance on others, or that they are inevitably obliged to make judgments about the trustworthiness of those whose word they must take. Some also choose to venture out upon the vast seas of Christianity’s philosophical or mystical traditions; and many are inspired by miracles, or dreams, or the apparent working of grace in their lives, or moments of aesthetic transport, or strange raptures, or intuitions of the Holy Spirit’s presence, and so on. None of this might impress the committed skeptic, or seem like adequate grounds for faith, but that does not mean that faith is essentially willful and irrational. More to the point, it is bizarre for anyone to think he or she can judge the nature or credibility of another’s experiences from the outside. If [a skeptic] really wishes to undertake a “scientific” investigation of faith, he should promptly abandon his efforts to describe religion (which, again, does not really exist), and attempt instead to enter into the actual world of belief in order to weigh its phenomena from within. As a first step, he should certainly–purely in the interest of sound scientific method and empirical rigor–begin praying, and then continue doing so with some perseverance. This is a drastic and implausible prescription, no doubt; but it is the only means by which he could possibly begin to acquire any knowledge of what belief is or of what it is not.[ref]Hart, Atheist Delusions: The Christian Revolution and Its Fashionable Enemies (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2009), 11-12.[/ref]

Historian and Joseph Smith biographer Richard Bushman once recalled a conversation with a Catholic colleague regarding the reasons for his testimony. “Not stopping to think,” Bushman relayed,

I told him I remained a Mormon because when I followed my religion I became the kind of man I want to be. No philosophy, no evidence, nothing elaborate. Simply the personal reality that my religion helps me get better. That’s what it comes down to in the crunch. The scripture verse explains what will happen when you listen to the spirit speaking in the wilderness: “My Spirit is truth; truth abideth and hath no end; and if it be in you it shall abound.” For me that promise becomes a simple matter of fact: when I hearken to the spirit, truth seems to abound in me as the verse promises. By that I mean not just truth as propositions about the world but truth as in the true and highest way to live.

“…got the Holy Spirit.”

Returning to Dunn, he seems to echo the sentiments of Harold B. Lee about man’s restlessness and yearning:

To youth who associate themselves with various causes, some popular, many designed to accomplish much good, and a few militant; to the adult who can find no satisfaction in his vocation and perhaps only frustration in his marriage and emptiness in his life; to the militant who spends his life bitterly denouncing what he is against but never quite certain what he is for; to the person who turns to drugs, perhaps even attempting to equate it with a spiritual experience, and then realizing that for every high there is some kind of dismal low—perhaps these people and many others seize upon special issues and act unpredictably more from an inner need to satisfy a yearning soul than because of the face value of that in which they are involved, however worthy it may be.

This yearning can only truly be satisfied by “the Way, the Truth, and the Life” (John 14:6); by revealed religion; by the Spirit abounding within oneself.

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Other bloggers involved in the General Conference Odyssey:

Nathaniel Givens – Comforting the Afflicted and Afflicting the Comfortable (Difficult Run)

J. Max Wilson – LDS Conference April 1971 – A Rebuke from President Harold B. Lee and Debunking the Iron Rod vs Liahona Taxonomy (Sixteen Small Stones)

John Hancock – The Eternally Durable Iron Rod (The Good Report)

Ralph Hancock – Harold B. Lee on The Millstone of “Liberal” Religion (The Soul and the City)

Michele Linford – Religion, Revelation, and Resolutions (Mormon Women)

Pure Religion and the Good Life

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This is part of the General Conference Odyssey.

For behold, this is my work and my glory—to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man. – Moses 1:39

I often cite the above as my interpretive paradigm of commandments. Eternal life or “exaltation” in Mormonism is, by every definition, a family ordeal. It is about relationships. As I’ve written elsewhere,

Continual research in the fields of neuroscience, psychology, primatology, and others find that we are wired to connect. Supportive, loving relationships help us to flourish because they help us become more of what we are: social beings. When we explore the theology of Joseph Smith and the rituals and practices of Mormonism, we find that God is plural and indwelling and that salvation is about kinship. In essence, as Blake Ostler put it, “I’m not saved unless you are. My exaltation depends on your exaltation. So when it comes down to it, it doesn’t really mean a thing unless you’re all there with me. Because if a single one of us isn’t there we’re all diminished by your absence.” 

Eternal life is eudaimonia–the good life–on an infinite scale. This theme runs throughout a majority of the talks in the first Sunday session of the April 1971 Conference.

In “last lecture” style, N. Eldon Tanner presents Joshua’s famous phrase, “choose you this day whom ye will serve…but as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.” His reasons for “serving the Lord” go back to human flourishing: “As we read the scriptures and as we read the history of the world, we find numerous examples where individuals, communities, and even nations who chose to serve the Lord were saved and prospered—not through their human genius alone, but by the will of God—while others who refused to do so suffered his wrath, were defeated and destroyed.” He continues: “I suggest to you that if we were spiritually sound, if we were living the teachings of Jesus Christ, whom we must serve if we are to survive as individuals and nations, then the political and economic problems already would be solved, because by living the Ten Commandments and other teachings of God we could all live together in peace and prosperity. As we review these teachings we can find nothing in them which, if lived, will not make us better and happier in every way.” As he acknowledges our “great strides of advancement in scientific fields” and “in the methods of war,” he wonders “what have we done in the interest of peace? What have we done in the field of human relations? What progress have we made in spirituality?” He asks, “If we were to be arrested for being Christians, I wonder if there would be enough evidence to convict us?” He thus calls for “a spiritual renaissance. Can you imagine what a glorious world it would be to live in if everyone were living the teachings of the gospel, loving God, and keeping his commandments? If we all loved one another, if there were no backbiting, no killing, no stealing, if everyone were honest, true, chaste, and benevolent? We would have no wars, but peace and heaven here on earth, and we could use the money now spent on war, law enforcement, and crime for worthy purposes to aid the needy, the sick, and unfortunate.” Serving the Lord will “contribute greatly to our success in the worthwhile things of life, both temporally and spiritually. We will raise better families and contribute more to the community than those who deny the Lord and ignore his teachings.”

Similarly, John H. Vandenberg recognizes that the basic needs of man–according to the poet Edwin Markham–are “bread, beauty, and brotherhood.” These things, Vandenberg says, require sacrificial love:

What is the seed of mother love? Is it not sacrifice? Such love is considered to be the deepest and most tender. Is this because a mother passes through the valley of the shadow of death to give birth to her child and is continually sacrificing for that child’s welfare? Is this why Christ loves the world? Because he toiled to make it? Because he sacrificed his life for the world and its people? We are told that “God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son” (John 3:16) to save it from ruin, and the Son was willing to suffer for the salvation of that for which he had toiled. We all love that for which we sacrifice. Giving and serving to the point of sacrifice creates love. The term religion encompasses concern for our brethren, as we are told in James 1:27: “Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction. …” [James 1:27] When people say, “Religion is all right for some, but I am not religious, and it means nothing to me,” is it because they have not experienced the uplift that comes from sacrificing for and serving their fellowmen?

Once again, sacrifice creates love. Sometimes we wait for love to come around before sacrificing. But if you want to love your fellow man, remember: “The chips are down someplace every day.”

I’m skipping A. Theodore Tuttle’s talk on “the message of the restored gospel.” The Church is the same as when Christ was around, He was the Son of God with special Jesus DNA,[ref]”He was the Son of God, the Eternal Father, from whom he inherited immortality, or the power to live. He was the son of Mary, from whom he inherited mortality, or the power to die.”[/ref] Joseph Smith had a vision, yada yada yada. Moving on.

I was happy to hear Gordon B. Hinckley’s voice again given that he was the Prophet I was most familiar with growing up. His talk adds to the ones above, offering four cornerstones upon which to build one’s home:

  • Respect: “the kind of respect that regards one’s companion as the most precious friend on earth and not as a possession or a chattel to be forced or compelled to suit one’s selfish whims…This respect comes of recognition that each of us is a son or daughter of God, endowed with something of his divine nature, that each is an individual entitled to expression and cultivation of individual talents and deserving of forbearance, of patience, of understanding, of courtesy, of thoughtful consideration. True love is not so much a matter of romance as it is a matter of anxious concern for the well being of one’s companion.”
  •  The Soft Answer: “We seldom get into trouble when we speak softly. It is only when we raise our voices that the sparks fly and tiny molehills become great mountains of contention.”
  • Honesty with God and One Another: “As you discipline yourselves in the expenditure of your means, beginning with your obligations to your Father in heaven, the cankering selfishness that leads to so much strain in domestic affairs will go out of your lives, for if you will share with the Lord whom you do not see, you will deal more graciously, more honestly, and more generously with those whom you do see. As you live honestly with God, you will be inclined to live honestly with one another.”
  • Family Prayer: “I know of no single practice that will have a more salutary effect upon your lives than the practice of kneeling together as you begin and close each day. Somehow the little storms that seem to afflict every marriage are dissipated when, kneeling before the Lord, you thank him for one another, in the presence of one another, and then together invoke his blessings upon your lives, your home, your loved ones, and your dreams. God then will be your partner, and your daily conversations with him will bring peace into your hearts and a joy into your lives that can come from no other source. Your companionship will sweeten through the years; your love will strengthen. Your appreciation for one another will grow.”

Hinckley promises “that if you will establish the home of which you dream on these foundation stones, the perils of your married life will be diminished, your love for one another will strengthen through the years, you will bless the lives of your children and of your children’s children, and you will know happiness in this life and joy eternal.” These things can help avoid the “nagging, corrosive evils of domestic misery, of separation, of abandonment, and of immoral and illegal relationships.” The consequences of broken homes are recognized by Hinckley as well: “Here is one of the tragic reasons for mounting juvenile delinquency: literally millions of children who come from homes where there is no parental love and consequently very little child security. Here is a root cause of our soaring public welfare burden, which is devouring billions of our treasure. Here is a denial of the kind of family ordained of God from the beginning. Here is heartbreak and failure.” Love and stability at home are not only necessary for the blooming of individuals, but for thriving societies as well.

Richard L. Evans’ final talk reminds us that “every day is part of eternity. What happens here and now is forever important.” It is easy to forget this, which is why “[w]e use much of our time in rushing around, not thinking always what we ought to be, nor what it is that matters most. Sometimes we set our hearts on things we feel we have to have, and when we get them find they don’t mean as much as once we thought they would. And so the years move by—and even while yet young we become aware that we are older than we were. Soberingly, more than one-fourth of this year already has passed—partly in pursuit perhaps of things that don’t matter very much…” This was a nice reminder, given my interest in finding the sacred in the mundane. But also because it is easy to forget the things we ought to be focusing on. “Well, we ought to live as we ought to live,” says Evans, “not only because it would please God, not only because it would please our parents, but as a favor for ourselves—for every commandment, every requirement God has given is for our happiness, for our health, and for our peace and progress. O my beloved young friends, even selfishly it is smart to keep the commandments God has given.” This is why he finds, “If someone tells you, my beloved young friends, that you can set the commandments of God aside without realizing the results—if someone tells you that, then you may know that you are listening to someone who doesn’t know, or isn’t telling you the truth.” Commandments are relational in nature and should draw us into deeper connection with one another.

Some great stuff this session.

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Here are the other participants for this session:

The General Conference Odyssey

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764 - Beginnings and Endings

The General Conference Odyssey is a group project by a number of Mormon bloggers. We decided to read all the talks[ref]Alternatively: some folks are reading only the talks from those who were or became Apostles.[/ref] from one session of every General Conference per week starting with the April 1971 session[ref]The first one readily available on LDS.org[/ref] and continuing until we catch up.

Our first post went live on December 1, 2015. We’ve posted every single Tuesday since then. Every week, we all post our reviews of the talks from that week’s session along with links to the other folks blogging that week. [ref]This format is what’s known as a “blog carnival.“[/ref] The only exception are current General Conferences, when we all take a break from reading the historical sessions to give our full attention to the current ones.

We call it the General Conference Odyssey because–assuming that future General Conferences maintain the 6-session format–we will not finish this task until 2029. Late in the summer of that year, we will finish re-reading the talks from the April 2029 General Conference before the October 2029 General Conference begins. If future General Conferences have more than 6 sessions, our odyssey will take longer. If they have less, then it will take shorter. In either case, however, an approximately 14-year blogging project seemed to merit the term “odyssey.”

The goal of all the participants is pretty simple. We say that we sustain the general authorities of the Church as prophets, seers, and revelators, so it makes sense to put our time and effort where our mouths are. Reading and then writing about these talks is one way of making sure that we have an eye on the watchmen on the tower.

It is also important, in a time where controversies and viewpoints abound, to keep track of the message that the leaders choose to reiterate. As Elder Eyring taught, “When the words of prophets seem repetitive, that should rivet our attention.” The only way to know which messages are being repeated, however, is to make sure that we’re paying attention to all of them.

Finally, we hope that in surveying a large number of talks over a long time period we will also be able to see trends or changes in emphasis that can help us better understand the Lord’s counsel through His prophets in response to a changing world. The Gospel doesn’t change, but the particular opportunities and dangers we should be most attuned to do change as the world does, and that is another good reason to pay close attention to the words of our prophets over an extended period of time.

This post serves as an introduction to the concept (which you’ve just read) in addition to a more detailed history, a FAQ, and a continuously updated index of all the blog posts in the General Conference Odyssey.

History

On October 25, 2015, J. Max Wilson shared a quote from a talk President Hinckley gave during the Saturday Morning session of the October 1981 General Conference: “Faith: The Essence of True Religion.” I was very struck by this quote, and I spent quite some time mulling it over and discussing my thoughts with friends and family. Eventually, I wrote a blog post for Times and Seasons detailing how I worked through incorporating the talk into my own beliefs. The post I wrote included this paragraph:

President Hinckley’s talk was given 34 years ago. I was a baby then, so of course I have no memory of this talk. I did not know that it existed until last week, when I read the excerpt. And I must confess a sense of shame as I read it for the first time and realized that this past year was the first year (since my mission) that I even tried to listen to all the sessions of General Conference. How many more talks have been given over my lifetime that I have never heard? Never read? Never considered? I say that I sustain the apostles as prophets, seers, and revelators, and yet I have nearly two centuries of their official talks given in General Conference and I have never even considered that I might want to go back and systematically read them to see what they had to say. I think it’s time I change that.

Not long after my post went live, J. Max sent me an email. He shared that he had been working through General Conference talks starting with his birth year. We got together with a few other bloggers we know (basically: the earliest participants in the General Conference Odyssey) and started talking about doing a group version of J. Max’s personal project. We settled on starting with April 1971 because it was the oldest easily available. We settled on a pace of one session per week because it seemed manageable over a long time-frame. I put together the schedule and a Google Doc we could use to coordinate and share links, and then suggested Dec 1 as the start date because: why wait? The holiday season is busy, but if we couldn’t make it through the first one I didn’t see any chance of making it through 14 years of them.

And so our first posts went live on Dec 1, 2015. At that time, we still didn’t have a name of the project.[ref]My working title was GenConCar, since it’s a General Conference Blog Carnival, but I never liked it.[/ref] Michelle Linford said she liked the term “odyssey” that I’d used in my first blog post,[ref]In a Facebook comment.[/ref] however, and with no other contenders, the name stuck.

FAQ

Q. Who can join the General Conference Odyssey?

A. If you’d like to be included as a blogger in the General Conference Odyssey, please contact any of the current bloggers and ask. [ref]If you don’t know any of us personally, you’re welcome to reach out to me using this site’s contact form.[/ref] In general, we’re looking for anyone who wants to read the General Conference talks for the same reason that we do: to better understand the words of Lord’s modern prophets.

Q. Who is in charge of the General Conference Odyssey?

A. The General Conference Odyssey is strictly a volunteer, team effort with no official leader or leadership. I do my best to facilitate by maintaining our schedule and sending encouraging emails and writing posts like this one, but anything else is decided by informal consensus.

Q. Why didn’t you answer my question yet?

A. Because we didn’t think of it. Go ahead and send it to any of the participants or just use this site’s contact form.

Index

The Mormon Way to Love

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This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey series.

I’m going to start my discussion of the talks from the Sunday Morning session of the April 1971 General Conference in a slightly different place: science fiction and fantasy. There’s going to be some wind up (which I hope you’ll find interesting), and then I’m going to tie it into President Gordon B. Hinckley’s talk “Except the Lord Build the House…”

749 - Star Wars Utah Fanws

Writing for the Washington Post’s Wonkblog, Christopher Ingraham noted that—based on Google search data—Utahns were “are the biggest Star Wars fans.”

During the past week, Utahns have done more Star-Wars related Googling than people in any other state. People in Utah are about 25 percent more likely to Google “Star Wars” than their nearest competitors in fandom, Californians. And they are more than twice as likely to Google the topic as people in Oregon and Mississippi, the two least Star Wars-crazy states.

Ingraham doesn’t have any idea why this is so. He doesn’t even speculated. Instead, he concludes his article with an invitation: “If you have a pet theory for why Utah is home of the nation’s #1 Star Wars Googlers, drop me a line.”

I’ll bite.

The connection is not between Mormons and Star Wars in particular. It’s between Mormons and all forms of geeky entertainment: Star Wars, Star Trek, Dr. Who, The Lord of the Rings, etc. The connection between Mormons and sci-fi and fantasy is so well known that the question (What’s the connection between Mormonism and speculative fiction?) is a recurring topic that many in the genre have taken a crack at. (Including me, one time for Times and Seasons. And also Matt Bowman, more recently and also at the Washington Post.)

In fact, one of my hobbies is to try to suss out Mormon influences in the work of Mormon authors. Historically, you’ve got Orson Scott Card as the big one. There’s also Stephanie Meyers as a really prominent Mormon author, but let’s not go there today. A trio that I’ve been following with great interest, however, are Brad Torgersen, Larry Correia, and Brandon Sanderson. Torgersen’s excellent short story collection Lights in the Deep has a great story called “The Chaplain’s War.” In it, Torgersen deals with issues of faith and the relationship of religion to secularism that–to my mind–show a distinctive Mormon perspective.

Then there’s Larry Correia, whose recent Son of the Black Sword is an incredible epic fantasy tale with some really interesting Mormon influence, which I outlined in my Goodreads review.

But it’s Brandon Sanderson I want to talk about for a moment.[ref]Spoiler alert: I’m going to be going over some spoilers for the Mistborn series through the most recent book, Shadows of Self.[/ref] Like Correia, Sanderson’s work frequently contains echoes of Mormon theology, culture, and scripture. The quote “it was better that one man suffer than an entire nation continue in heresy” from Elantris, for example, is an obvious echo of “It is better that one man should perish than that a nation should dwindle and perish in unbelief.”[ref]1 Nephi 4:13[/ref] In my favorite series, Mistborn, themes of apostasy, restoration, and religious pluralism that borrow heavily from Joseph Smith’s writings are very prominent. In the conclusion of the first Mirstbon trilogy, the character Sazed’s understanding of numerous different religious traditions helps him rebuild the world and he remarks, “The religions in my portfolio weren’t useless after all. None of them were. They weren’t all true. But they all had truth.”

Compare this expansive view with quotes from Joseph Smith and Brigham Young:

“We should gather all the good and true principles in the world and treasure them up, or we shall not come out true Mormons.” – Joseph Smith[ref]Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, p. 316[/ref]

“I want to say to my friends that we believe in all good.  If you can find a truth in heaven, earth, or hell, it belongs to our doctrine.  we believe it; it is ours; we claim it.” – Brigham Young[ref] Discources of Brigham Young selected by John A. Widtsoe, p. 2[/ref]

But one of the most Mormon aspects of Sanderon’s writing (especially in the Mistborn books) is his treatment of romantic relationships, and that’s where we’re going to finally bet back to President Hinckley’s talk. Here’s an excerpt from my review of The Well of Ascension (the second in the original Mistborn trilogy):

[Sanderson’s] take on relationships is very Mormon… You can tell this is a guy who grew up in a culture saturated with reverence for and wisdom about making marriages work. That’s an incredibly refreshing breath of fresh air in a genre fiction novel. Dynamic, fun, believable, and healthy relationships are just incredibly rare in popular entertainment, which almost always emphasize the pursuit and never spare time for the relationship itself.

So what are the hallmarks of a Mormon view of relationships? I would say there are two: prominence and practicality. Marriage matters to Mormons, and it matters a lot. That comes across in Sanderson’s writing, which not only focuses on romance but does so in a way that emphasizes relationships over sex. This gives Sanderon’s writing—and Mormon culture in general—a very romantic attitude. (There’s a reason Jane Austen is so popular with Mormons, leading to novels like Shannon Hale’s Austenland.)

But the other aspect is a very interesting contradiction with the romantic aspect of Mormon culture: practicality. Sanderson tackles this issue in the newest Mistborn novels, The Alloy of Law and Shadows of Self. These books includes the most unique and the most Mormon relationship plotline I have ever read in my life. The protagonist (Waxillium “Wax” Ladrian) returns from self-imposed exile on the frontier to take control of the struggling family business. He soon faces a dilemma. A marriage to Steris will restore the family fortune, but is a marriage of convenience for both of them. Or there is Steris’ half-sister Marasi: she is younger, prettier, and completely infatuated with Wax, but has no fortune to offer.

The Disney expectation is clear:  Wax has to put his heart first and marry Marasi, which is what his friend encourages him to do. The darker, more contemporary approach would be for Wax to marry Steris, but then cheat on her. Or maybe relapse into bitterness and regret. Sanderson—taking the Mormon approach—does neither. He has Wax move forward with the engagement to Steris, remain completely honorable, and slowly—very, very slowly—the two begin to find a mutual affection for each other despite their differences.

Now this is a long digression, but I think it was worth taking, because it shows how deeply the teachings that President Hinckley discusses in his talk have permeated Mormon culture. Sanderson shows Mormonism’s romantic view of the importance and possibility of love, but also the practical side of Mormonism that insists: all marriages are compromises.

Compare that with President Hinckley’s talk, “Except the Lord Build the House …” The talk begins with President Hinckley expressing concern for divorce (the symptom) and marital dysfunction (the disease):

Even in those lands where divorce is difficult if not impossible to obtain, the same disease is evident—the same nagging, corrosive evils of domestic misery, of separation, of abandonment, and of immoral and illegal relationships.

But, ever the optimist, President Hinckley quickly turns from what can go wrong to a discussion of what can go right, providing these four principles for building a strong and happy marriage:

  1. Respect for One Another
  2. The Soft Answer
  3. Honesty with God and with One Another
  4. Family Prayer

Here are some specific quotes from each section:

Respect for One Another

This respect comes of recognition that each of us is a son or daughter of God, endowed with something of his divine nature, that each is an individual entitled to expression and cultivation of individual talents and deserving of forbearance, of patience, of understanding, of courtesy, of thoughtful consideration.

The most important thing to note here is that the “recognition that each of us is a son or daughter of God,” is entirely generic. It applies to everyone. This is a major departure from modern views of love, which enshrine the idea of compatibility between two specific people above all else. That ides is totally absent from this view, which leads to President Hinckley’s stark statement:

True love is not so much a matter of romance as it is a matter of anxious concern for the well being of one’s companion.

This is pretty much exactly the opposite of what the world believes about love and marriage. Not coincidentally, it is exactly the kind of relationship that is beginning to develop between Wax and Steris in Sanderson’s books.

Companionship in marriage is prone to become commonplace and even dull. I know of no more certain way to keep it on a lofty and inspiring plane than for a man occasionally to reflect upon the fact that the help-meet who stands at his side is a daughter of God, engaged with Him in the great creative process of bringing to pass His eternal purposes. I know of no more effective way for a woman to keep ever radiant the love for her husband than for her to look for and emphasize the godly qualities that are a part of every son of our Father and that can be evoked when there is respect and admiration and encouragement. The very processes of such actions will cultivate a constantly rewarding appreciation for one another.

This is another example of President Hinckley’s teaching that the love within marriage doesn’t depend on finding your soulmate, on being compatible, or on any particular attribute of the spouses. It’s also a very realistic view of marriage, and one that emphasizes work. According to this view, it is a husband’s duty to protect his own love for his wife (and vice versa).  Mormons don’t believe in finding soulmates. They believe in making soulmates.

The Soft Answer

President Hinckley’s second principle is very simple: “We seldom get into trouble when we speak softly.”

It is also an opportunity for President Hinckley to again emphasize the importance of work within a marriage: “There is need for a vast amount of discipline in marriage, not of one’s companion, but of one’s self.”

Honesty with God and with One Another

President Hinckley’s observation here is both practical and profound:

If you will share with the Lord whom you do not see, you will deal more graciously, more honestly, and more generously with those whom you do see.

Family Prayer

President Hinckley’s last principle includes a long series of beautiful promises that any husband and wife will cover for their family. It doesn’t really fit the theme of this post (emphasizing the collision of practicality and romance), but it is beautiful so here it is:

Your children will know the security of a home where dwells the Spirit of the Lord. You will gather them together in that home, as the Church has counseled, and teach them in love. They will know parents who respect one another, and a spirit of respect will grow in their hearts. They will experience the security of the kind word softly spoken, and the tempests of their own lives will be stilled. They will know a father and mother who, living honestly with God, live honestly also with one another and with their fellowmen. They will grow up with a sense of appreciation, having heard their parents in prayer express gratitude for blessings great and small. They will mature with faith in the living God.

The destroying angel of domestic bitterness will pass you by and you will know peace and love throughout your lives which may be extended into all eternity. I could wish for you no greater blessing, and for this I humbly pray in your behalf, in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

I thought it was fun to compare Brandon Sanderson’s writing with the teachings of President Hinckley to show how extensive the Mormon adoption of President Hinckley’s (and other leaders’) teachings on marriage and family peace and unity and harmony had become. These are clearly some of the lessons that many Mormons have taken to heart.

And now, here are just a few of quotes from other talks from this session that struck me.

In “Choose You This Day” Elder N. Eldon Tanner  writes that “there is strength in humility and weakness in pride.” That is a good thing to keep in mind.

In My Brother’s Keeper Elder John H. Vandenberg writes about the connection between sacrifice and love, reversing the ordinary causality:

What is the seed of mother love? Is it not sacrifice? Such love is considered to be the deepest and most tender. Is this because a mother passes through the valley of the shadow of death to give birth to her child and is continually sacrificing for that child’s welfare?

Is this why Christ loves the world? Because he toiled to make it? Because he sacrificed his life for the world and its people?… We all love that for which we sacrifice.

So, instead of loving motivating sacrifice, sacrifice can engender love. Elder Vandenberg also included a poignant reminder that is work keeping in mind as we think about everyday service: “The chips are down someplace every day.” There is always someone who needs our help.

—

Here are the blog posts from the other participants in the General Conference Odyssey.

The GC Project: Marketing Tactics, Teacher Development, and Care for the Lost

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This is part of the General Conference Odyssey.

This week covers the April 1971 Priesthood session. Let me give a brief rundown of some of the least interesting talks.

In the lead talk, President Joseph Fielding Smith describes what it is to be a priesthood holder:

We are ambassadors of the Lord Jesus Christ. Our commission is to represent him. We are directed to preach his gospel, to perform the ordinances of salvation, to bless mankind, to heal the sick and perhaps perform miracles, to do what he would do if he were personally present—and all this because we hold the holy priesthood. As the Lord’s agents we are bound by his law to do what he wants us to do regardless of personal feelings or worldly enticements. Of ourselves we have no message of salvation, no doctrine that must be accepted, no power to baptize or ordain or marry for eternity. All these things come from the Lord, and anything we do with reference to them is the result of delegated authority.[ref]He goes even further: “We must not be guilty of unrighteous and evil acts of abortion.”[/ref]

Not quite like this.

Future president Howard W. Hunter talks about the very mundane topic of the (then new) meetinghouse library program. Despite the subject’s fairly boring nature, as my stake’s Sunday School president, I was pleasantly surprised to see teaching addressed so strongly, if in a somewhat roundabout way. Hunter highlights D&C 42, explaining that the priesthood is to “teach the principles of my gospel, which are in the Bible and the Book of Mormon, in the which is the fulness of the gospel. And they shall observe the covenants and church articles to do them, and these shall be their teachings, as they shall be directed by the Spirit” (vs. 12-13). Hunter says we must “seek…diligently and teach one another words of wisdom; yea, seek ye out of the best books words of wisdom; seek learning, even by study and also by faith” (D&C 88:118). While some may find it (unjustifiably) tasteless, I thought his comparison of the packaging of the gospel message to marketing tactics made plenty of sense. Rhetoric and delivery are important. When combined with information or truth, it creates impact.

David B. Haight’s talk features similar thoughts through the discussion of the teacher development program. Drawing on the Savior’s admonishment to Peter in John to “feed my sheep” (John 21:15-17), Haight believes that not only must “[w]e must understand these instructions and our responsibility to “teach one another the doctrine of the kingdom” (D&C 88:77), but [also] to teach it effectively so that all of us, our children, our children’s children, and generations yet unborn will be able to perceive and comprehend the true meaning of life as proclaimed by the Master, and then have a desire to live it and eventually gain exaltation in the kingdom of our Heavenly Father…”

Sexual morality is addressed in several of the talks from the April session and Victor L. Brown provides a nice summary as to why such morality is important: “Sexual activity is to be indulged in only within the bonds of marriage. When this is the case, it is one of the most rewarding and satisfying experiences man can have. When this is not the case, the same experience becomes base and evil…Infidelity and promiscuous sex activity destroy the basic, vital institution of the family, which in turn destroys all that is good in life” (italics mine). While he does make some cringe-worthy comments about homosexuality,[ref]Brown says, “The Lord defined some very basic differences between men and women. He gave the male what we call masculine traits and the female feminine traits. He did not intend either of the sexes to adopt the other’s traits but, rather, that men should look and act like men and that women should look and act like women. When these differences are ignored, an unwholesome relationship develops, which, if not checked, can lead to the reprehensible, tragic sin of homosexuality. In other words, we have a responsibility as priesthood bearers to be examples of true manhood.” Ouch. And while there is nothing wrong with pointing out sex differences, we shouldn’t–as psychologist Steven Pinker notes–use “dubious sex differences to condemn the choices of women.”[/ref] Brown thankfully points out that morality encompasses far more than just sexuality and offers up honesty and integrity as vital to a moral life. Despite Brown’s anecdotes regarding the honest Mormon professional, it seems that modern Mormon businessmen could use Brown’s reminder. given that Utah is the state with the most affinity fraud per head.

 

The last three talks really shine. Wendell J. Ashton offers a touching address directed at his two sons. He stresses the “eternal principles” that “can help you lead in a world that cries out for real priesthood leadership.” And in one of the finest conclusions of a General Conference talk I have heard in some time, he declares lovingly,

Stand on your own feet. Stand tall. Hold your heads high as though you are truly sons of God, which you are. Walk among men as holders of powers beyond your own, which you have, through the priesthood. Move on the good earth as though you are partners of the Lord in helping to bring immortality and eternal life to mankind, which you are. Walk quietly, as in stocking feet; but walk fearlessly, in faith. Don’t let the ill winds sway you. Walk as leaders with the priesthood in the government of God. Walk with hands ready to help, with hearts full of love for your fellowmen. But walk with a toughness in righteousness.

N. Eldon Tanner’s talk, for me, is the highlight of the Priesthood session. In the midst of recent controversies and polarization among Latter-day Saints surrounding women and the priesthood, excommunications, and the policy regarding children of same-sex parents, the talk is a powerful reminder that we should not be rejoicing in the falling away of fellow members. “Good riddance” is the not the appropriate response:

Every bishop, every stake president, every leader of any organization knows someone who needs attention, and you and we have the responsibility of going to find that lost sheep…These young men [and women] and these older men [and women] who are inactive in the Church, who have strayed away from the Church because of inactivity or for any reason, need our help and need our attention just as much. They need our prayers and our consideration, and nothing will bring us greater joy and happiness than to see one come back into activity.

Tanner reminds the audience that not all inactivity is due to sin, but sometimes due to neglect. In his recalling of the parable of the lost sheep, I’m reminded of the accompanying parables of the lost coin and the prodigal son. Sheep and sons can wander away. Coins can’t. Owners lose those due to neglect and carelessness. We blame those who are offended rather than seeking to be less offensive.

We as a community have responsibilities toward our members:

Often some little thing, some slight, or a misunderstanding causes one to become inactive. There are those who are discouraged and inactive because they have felt neglected or have been offended; or they are guilty of some transgression of their own, and as a result feel that they are outcasts or that there is no place for them, that they are not worthy or wanted. They feel that they are lost and cannot be forgiven. We as leaders must let them know and make them know that we love them, and help them to understand that the Lord loves them, and that the Lord will forgive them if they will truly repent.

There are people “in every ward ranging in ages from twelve to seventy who, though they would deny it, are hungry for attention, for brotherhood, and for an active life in the Church.” We must say to them, as Tanner did to one inactive brother, “Listen, brother, you need activity in the Church, but we need you, we really need you.” This fellowship goes beyond the individual: “By saving one, we might save a family. We might even save a generation. By losing one, we may lose not only the individual but a family and his posterity.”

One of the final comments of Harold B. Lee rounds out Tanner’s excellent message. Is all that effort worth it? “I want you to know that it would be worth it if it were my grandson, or one of mine. It would be worth it if it were one of yours.”

Overall, a particularly moving Priesthood session.

—

Here are the other folks participating in this grand scheme who have also written blog posts responding to the Priesthood session of the April 1971 General Conference. (If any of the links don’t work, try back later. They are all coming online during the day.)

Bites from the April 1971 Priesthood Session (by G at Junior Ganymede)

LDS Conference 1971 – Meetinghouse Libraries and UX for Gospel Learning (by J. Max Wilson at Sixteen Small Stones)

Dear to the Heart of the Shepherd (by Daniel Ortner at Symphony of Dissent)

Deep Down Inside Us There is Good (by John Hancock at the Good Report)

Betty Friedan and Bishop Brown (by Ralph Hancock at The Soul and The City)

Why I support Friends of Scouting (by Michelle Linford at Mormon Women)

God’s Plan to Exalt His Children (by Miachael Worley at Michael’s Thoughts and Ideas)

Love Fervently (by Nathaniel at Difficult Run)

Love Fervently

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745 - I Want to Believe in Love
(Snagged from Flickr. Click image for link)

Three weeks is a little early into a 14-year project, but I’m already impressed with how my view of the Church and the General Authorities is changing. And it comes down to one thing: love. I didn’t expect to hear and feel so much love from the 1970s-era Church leaders. I expected the concern for crumbling moral standards of the day and the (by our standard) harsh language with regard this deterioration. I didn’t expect so much love.

I’ll have to back up very briefly to mention Elder Marvin J. Ashton’s talk from the Saturday morning session of the April 1971 General Conference, “Love of the Right.” In his talk, Elder Ashton explained the famous quote we have all heard, “No other success can compensate for failure in the home.” This is what Elder Ashton had to say:

Following one of our recent general conference sessions, a troubled mother approached me and said, “I need to know what is meant by the statement, ‘No success can compensate for failure in the home.’” Knowing a little of the burdens this friend of mine carries in her mind and heart because of a rebellious, wayward daughter, I shared this meaning with her: I believe we start to fail in the home when we give up on each other. We have not failed until we have quit trying. As long as we are working diligently with love, patience, and long-suffering, despite the odds or the apparent lack of progress, we are not classified as failures in the home. We only start to fail when we give up on a son, daughter, mother, or father.

Elder Ashton’s response demonstrates a genuine love, both for the parents of wayward children and for wayward children. And so I was especially struck when (in the priesthood session we’re responding to this week), Elder Harold B. Lee returned to the same topic in his talk “Today’s Young People.” He said:

I would have you remember a remark of Brother Marvin J. Ashton in his very excellent address today when he said no home is a failure until it gives up on that son, or that daughter, or that husband, or that wife. It must not give up, no matter how difficult the task to save one of ours.

This is a beautiful new way of looking at President McKay’s famous statement. While no success can compensate for failure in the home, no home is a failure so long as we refuse to give up on our loved family members.

In his talk, President Lee (then Elder Lee) recounted a story of a speech given by Horace Mann (“that great educator somewhere back in the time of Abraham Lincoln”) to the effect that a new school—which had cost a huge amount of money to build—would be worth it “if [it] is able to save one boy.” One of Mann’s friends replied that surely Mann was exaggerating. But, according to President Lee, he was not.

Horace Mann looked at him and said, “Yes, my friend. It would be worth it if that one boy were my son; it would be worth it.”

I want you to know that it would be worth it if it were my grandson, or one of mine. It would be worth it if it were one of yours.

Another talk that really conveyed to me a sense of warmth and love was Elder N. Eldon Tanner’s “Search for the Wanderers.” The talk, which emphasized the importance of reaching out to inactive members, returned again and again to a beautiful theme that Elder Tanner once told an inactive member that he was extending a calling to: “Listen, brother, you need activity in the Church, but we need you, we really need you.”

He then went on to say:

Brethren, there is nothing more important in your whole lives than to save souls. We have programs and we have planning outlines for teachers, and we give them teacher helps, and all those things to take care of those who are attending, but I fear too often we are forgetting and neglecting and ignoring those who are not always there, satisfied to say we had 50 percent or 60 percent in attendance.

I don’t care at all for percentages or statistics, but I do care for that boy and the outside young man, and I appeal to you tonight, my brethren, every one of you who is holding the priesthood of God, and particularly those who hold office in the Church, to set about to do as the Lord said, to find that lost sheep, bring him back into the fold, so that you will find joy with him when you meet your Heavenly Father.

I was also struck by Elder Tanner’s ability to empathize with those who wander. He said:

There are those who are discouraged and inactive because they have felt neglected or have been offended; or they are guilty of some transgression of their own, and as a result feel that they are outcasts or that there is no place for them, that they are not worthy or wanted. They feel that they are lost and cannot be forgiven. We as leaders must let them know and make them know that we love them, and help them to understand that the Lord loves them, and that the Lord will forgive them if they will truly repent.

We have an old song, “Where Is My Wandering Boy Tonight?” and I was wondering if that could not be changed to mean more to us in these words: “Why is my boy wandering tonight?”

This is a very near echo of how Elder Ashton talked about the problem of drug abuse in the talk I quoted from earlier, Love of the Right. For Elder Ashton it was not enough to simply teach our youth that drugs are dangerous and immoral. We had to ask the deeper questions:

If we as parents and friends advise our youth that drugs are bad, evil, and immoral, and yet we do not try to understand why our youth turn to this evil substitute for reality, then the drugs themselves become the issue and not the symptom of the greater issue of unhappiness. We need to know why our loved ones want to run from their present life to the unknown yet dangerous life of addiction. What causes a strong, lovely, vibrant young person to allow a chemical to control his or her behavior? What is there at home, school, work, or church that is so uncomfortable that an escape seems necessary?

If we were not faced with the evils of marijuana, LSD, speed, and heroin, we would be faced with some other type of escape mechanism, because some of us as brothers, sisters, parents, friends, and teachers have not yet been able to reach our youth in such a way as to give them the confidence and love they seek.

All of this came to my mind as I was preparing my lesson for Gospel Doctrine. In my ward, today was lesson 43, which covers 1 Peter. A lot of Peter’s tone is very similar to what we hear in General Conference, and especially the emphasis on love and unity. And this phrase in particular stood out: “see that ye love one another with a pure heart fervently.” (1 Peter 1:22)

We’ve all heard the command to “love one another” many, many times. And, just as many of us (me foremost!) are perhaps a little too willing to discount General Conference talks as more of the same, I can imagine that Peter needed to hammer the point home a little to get people to realize—again—how fundamentally important it is. Love one another, he said. Fervently.

Here are a couple of additional snippets from the Priesthood session that I liked:

And one of these days he is going to come.

I liked the matter-of-fact tone in President Joseph Fielding Smith’s reference to the Second Coming in “Our Responsibilities As Priesthood Holders.”

It is not difficult for men who are true to themselves to be true to others

An elegant aphorism from Elder Victor L. Brown in “The Meaning of Morality.”

Brethren of the priesthood, in your own circle, in your own home, in your own lives, you must do all you can of your own free will, and bring to pass much righteousness.

President Harold B. Lee urging us to go beyond what we are commanded to do in “Today’s Young People”

—

Here are the other folks participating in this grand scheme who have also written blog posts responding to the Priesthood session of the April 1971 General Conference. (If any of the links don’t work, try back later. They are all coming online during the day.)

Bites from the April 1971 Priesthood Session (by G at Junior Ganymede)

LDS Conference 1971 – Meetinghouse Libraries and UX for Gospel Learning (by J. Max Wilson at Sixteen Small Stones)

Dear to the Heart of the Shepherd (by Daniel Ortner at Symphony of Dissent)

Deep Down Inside Us There is Good (by John Hancock at the Good Report)

Betty Friedan and Bishop Brown (by Ralph Hancock at The Soul and The City)

Why I support Friends of Scouting (by Michelle Linford at Mormon Women)

God’s Plan to Exalt His Children (by Miachael Worley at Michael’s Thoughts and Ideas)

 

Good Timber Does Not Grow at Ease

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754 - Good Timber
This is the second week of a 14-year project to read and blog about every session of General Conference. Today we’re covering the Saturday Afternoon session of the April 1971 General Conference.

The word orthodox is pretty familiar. It’s combination of the Greek words orthos (straight or right) and doxa (opinion) that means correct belief or doctrine. A related but less well-known concept is orthopraxy, which is a combination of orthos and praxia (action) that means correct practice or action. The two concepts are related to the notions of works and grace and exist in similar tension, as the Wikipedia entry on orthopraxy indicates:

In the study of religion, orthopraxy is correct conduct, both ethical and liturgical, as opposed to faith or grace etc. This contrasts with orthodoxy, which emphasizes correct belief, and ritualism, the use of rituals.

Mormonism is often seen as coming down rather firmly on the orthopraxy side of this divide. After all, we have no professional clergy, no formal theology, and an open canon. And so we have neither an authoritative expression of orthodoxy nor a priestly class disposed to write one. Mormon philosopher James Faulconer has even referred to the Church as “atheological,” and Mormon biblical scholar David Bokovoy collected Joseph Smith quotes that suggest an extensive dislike of creeds:

The first and fundamental principle of our holy religion is, that we have the right to embrace all, and every item of the truth, without limitation or without being circumscribed or prohibited by the creeds and superstitious notions of men.[ref]Joseph Smith in The Personal Writings of Joseph Smith, pp. 420.[/ref]

I never thought it was right to call up a man and try him because he erred in doctrine, it looks too much like Methodism and not like Latter day Saintism. Methodists have creeds which a man must believe or be kicked out of their church. I want the liberty of believing as I please, it feels so good not to be tramelled.[ref]Joseph Smith in The Words of Joseph Smith, pp. 183-184[/ref]

I cannot believe in any of the creeds of the different denominations, because they all have some things in them I cannot subscribe to, though all of them have some truth. I want to come up into the presence of God, and learn all things; but the creeds set up stakes, and say, ‘Hitherto shalt thou come, and no further;’ which I cannot subscribe to.[ref] Joseph Smith, Discourse to Saints, October 1843; DHC 6:57.[/ref]

..I stated that the most prominent difference in sentiment between the Latter-day Saints and sectarians was, that the latter were all circumscribed by some peculiar creed, which deprived its members the privilege of believing anything not contained therein, whereas the Latter-day Saints … are ready to believe all true principles that exist, as they are made manifest from time to time…[ref]Joseph Smith, January 1843, History of the Church, 5:215; from “History of the Church” (manuscript), book D-1, p. 1433, Church Archives.[/ref]

I question whether this either/or divide is actually helpful or accurate, however. Recent talks, like Elder Uchtdorf’s “The Gift of Grace” from the April 2015 General Conference emphasize the important role that grace (associated with orthodoxy rather than orthopraxy) plays in our faith. Moreover, all but the last of Bokovoy’s collected quotes actually indicate that the problem Joseph Smith had with the creeds of his day was not that they were creeds but rather that they were incorrect creeds. The Mormon commitment to continuing revelation rules out static creeds, but not as emphatically or antagonistically as some have believed. It casts creeds as necessarily incomplete but not necessarily abhorrent.

Nevertheless, the stereotype of an excessively orthoprax Mormonism does hold some appeal because it lends itself to a kind of criticism that is very on point with respect to the controversies of the our day. If the Mormon faith places so much emphasis on obedience and correct behavior that it obscures Christ and His mercy, then is it any wonder the Church tends towards authoritarianism and callousness? Even bigotry? And so the stereotype gets an additional boost because it is useful to certain critics of the Church.

But is it really accurate? Or is there a way to reconcile the distinctive lack of formal doctrine and Mormonism’s heavy emphasis on behavior with a robust reverence for the mercy and grace of Christ? Can we bridge the gap between orthopraxy and orhodoxy?

I believe that we can, and that perhaps the answers have been there all along. Those are the directions my thoughts took, at least, as I read Elder Sterling W. Sill’s excellent talk from the April 1971 General Conference: “Great Experiences.”

Elder Sill’s talk begins with a very orthoprax focus and an emphasis on Christ. “The religion of Christ itself is not so much a set of ideas as it is a set of activities,” he says. “The purpose of the Church is to help us translate the principles of the gospel of Christ into constructive, meaningful human experience.”

After this clear thesis, however, Sill spends almost the next 1,000 words (more than ½ of the talk) without mentioning or referring to Jesus Christ again. Instead, he emphasizes things like “a daily practice of thinking some uplifting thoughts, listening to some fine music, reading some stimulating literature, doing some good deeds, and having some great experiences.”

These kind of sentiments sound, at first glance, like the kind of platitudes critics of the Church for being obsessed with obedience and works might levy. A glance at Elder Sill’s biography doesn’t help. He was an extremely successful businessman and several of the more than 30 books he published between 1958 and 1986 seem almost proto-Coveyesque. He wrote three volumes on leadership, for example. Elder Sill’s background, like his talk, seem at first to conform to exactly the worst stereotypes of orthopraxy: overemphasis on lists and worldly accomplishments.

But I have to admit that even at this point I was already impressed by his unique perspective. His notion that the Church exists to transform principles into experience is fascinating,[ref]I haven’t stopped mulling over it all week.[/ref] and I was particularly struck by his emphasis on the dangers of foolishness instead of sin. “The scriptures themselves make almost as many references to fools as to sinners,” he says in a long passage that—at first glance—seems to be primarily about the importance of maintaining high self-esteem.

“Because we draw so much from the rebellion, weakness, and evil with which we are surrounded, we tend to load ourselves up too heavily with guilt complexes, mental problems, insecurity, and mediocrity.” This obsession with negative thoughts can lead to a ponderous D.F.T. file in our minds: a depressing list of all the damn fool things we regret doing in the past.[ref]Also, April 1971 is now the most recent date for the use of a 4-letter word in General Conference that I know of. I’ll keep track of that as I keep reading.[/ref]

The stereotype of an achievement-oriented Mormonism begins to break down as Elder Sill’s talk progresses, but the first the cracks are so subtle that they are easy to miss. It begins with his self-deprecating example of one of the great experiences of his life: “Great experience number one is that I managed to get myself born, and I have been very pleased about that ever since.”

Of course, there is some credit in being born (since it means we held our own in the First Estate), but Elder Sill is quick to point out that many of the advantages of his birth were just “good fortune” that he found out “quite a long time after it happened.”

Then he quotes from a poem[ref]The poem is “Good Timber” by Douglas Malloch, although I had to look that up.[/ref] that emphasizes the importance not of achievement, but of struggle.

Good timber does not grow at ease,
The stronger wind, the stronger trees.
The further sky, the greater length,
The more the storm, the more the strength.
…
And they hold council with the stars
Whose broken branches show the scars
Of many winds and much of strife.

The image of broken branches and scars is directly at odds with the image of Stepford Mormons whose lives are unblemished because of their devotion to God. It is also at this point in the talk that Elder Sill begins to bring God and Christ back into the picture. He says he was baptized, “in the exact manner prescribed by the Savior of the world,” and then speaks of rebirth more generally, saying that our lives really being “when we determine to live by every word of the Lord.” Then comes marriage “in the temple of the Lord” and scriptures that contain “gospel of Christ.”

It’s possible to see these references as off-hand or even pro forma, as though Elder Sill is bringing up God merely because he’s going through the motions. But there’s another explanation for the way God returns to his words in such an indirect fashion: it may be that Elder Sill simply took for granted that we should have had God in mind the whole time. After all, there are two kinds of people who don’t know what the idea of “wetness” means: those who have never experienced water, and those who have never experienced anything else.

And then, lest we still think that Elder Sill’s talk is just an extended exercise in practically-oriented self-help, he says this:

Through my occupation I have had some part in helping to carry forward the work of the world. But I have also had a part in helping to carry forward the work of the Lord, and I may have as much of a part as I desire in that great enterprise in which God himself spends his entire time.

There is no mistaking, at this point, Elder Sill’s recognition that his achievements in business are ephemeral and—in and of themselves—worthless. These are the words of a man who understands where real value lies, and it is not in mortal accomplishment.

Every Sunday my kids spend a lot of time drawing. Usually, when you think about the creation of art, you think about it is a goal-oriented behavior. You draw, or paint, or sculpt in order to create a drawing, or a painting, or a sculpture, and the object you create is the whole point of the work that goes into creating it.

And yet, my kids don’t actually care very much about the art they create. My Sunday bag is jam-packed with their creations, but they have no interest in any of last week’s creations. They only care about whether or not my bag contains one thing: materials to make more art. For my kids, it’s the actual work—and not the product of the work—that matters.

That is the connection between orthopraxy and orthodoxy, between works and faith. Hugh Nibley summarized it by saying, “Work we must, but the lunch is free.” The idea is that our striving towards accomplishment of meaningful work is important because it allows us to strive. The accomplishments–won or missed–don’t really matter.

The trick is that we have to strive earnestly. We have to do the best drawings we can, to return to the example of my kids and their artwork, because even though the art might not matter the fact of sincerely doing our best does matter. And that is why all of Elder Sill’s discussion about the best way to make ourselves useful tools (by, for example, avoiding negativity) are not superficial or vain or idolatrous. Because he well understood that the great experiences towards which we strive do not come from our efforts. Birth, baptism, rebirth through repentance, temple marriage: none of these are experiences we can earn or create for ourselves. In every case, we depend on the kindness of others and especially on the power of Christ.

This is an inspirational talk for me, because it shows the possibility of finding the profound within the mundane. Of finding Christ in our everyday life. And that is truly a worthy pursuit.

——

Here are the other folks participating in this grand scheme who have also written blog posts responding to the Saturday Morning session of the April 1971 General Conference. (If any of the links don’t work, try back later. They are all coming online during the day.)

The General Conference Project: Controlling the Hulk, Believing the Devil, and Cussing GAs

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If only our project was this cool.

This is part of the General Conference Odyssey.

Our blast into the General Conference past continues with my second installment of this 14-year project. Once again, this session has a mixture of gems, doozies, and pleasant, if not forgettable, instruction for the Latter-day Saints.

Marion G. Romney begins the April 1971 Saturday afternoon session by focusing on the existence of Satan (an odd topic in my view). “A corollary to the pernicious falsehood that God is dead is the equally pernicious doctrine that there is no devil,” he pronounces. “Satan himself is the father of both of these lies. To believe them is to surrender to him. Such surrender has always led, is leading now, and will continue to lead men to destruction. Latter-day Saints know that there is a God. With like certainty, they know that Satan lives, that he is a powerful personage of spirit, the archenemy of God, of man, and of righteousness. The reality of the existence of both God and the devil is conclusively established by the scriptures and by human experience.” While Romney engages in decontextualized scriptural proofs (e.g. the Satan of Job is not the Satan of the New Testament; Moses 1 seems to draw on Matthew 4), I was somewhat drawn to the declaration of the reality of spiritual entities and, by implication, spiritual warfare. It must be remembered that while

the early Christians did indeed regard the gods of the pagan order as false gods, they did not necessarily understand this to mean simply that these gods were unreal; they understood it to mean that the gods were deceivers. Behind the pieties of the pagan world, Christians believed, lurked forces of great cruelty and guile: demons, malign elemental spirits, occult agencies masquerading as divinities, exploiting the human yearning for God, and working to thwart the designs of God, in order to bind humanity in slavery to darkness, ignorance, and death. And to renounce one’s bonds to these beings was an act of cosmic rebellion, a declaration that one had been emancipated from (in the language of John’s Gospel) “the prince of this world” or (in the somewhat more disturbing language of 2 Corinthians) “the god of this world.” In its fallen state, the cosmos lies under the reign of evil (1 John 5:19), but Christ came to save the world, to lead “captivity captive” (Ephesians 4:8), and to overthrow the empire of those “thrones, dominions, principalities, and powers” (Colossians 1:16, 1 Corinthians 2:8, Ephesians 1:21, 3:10) and “rulers on high” (Ephesians 6:12) that have imprisoned creation in corruption and evil. Again, given the perspective of our age, we can scarcely avoid reading such language as mythological, thus reducing its import from cosmic to more personal or political dimensions. In so doing, however, we fail to grasp the scandal and the exhilaration of early Christianity.[ref]David B. Hart, Atheist Delusions: The Christian Revolution and Its Fashionable Enemies (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2009), 113-114.[/ref]

The metaphysics are interesting. The talk not so much.

ElRay L. Christiansen’s address has some fairly pointed criticisms of the easily angered: “To become upset and infuriated over trivial matters gives evidence of childishness and immaturity in a person.” While this doesn’t really take into consideration natural temperament and environmental factors (and thus the need for anger management), Christiansen’s talk is nonetheless important in drawing attention to our often harmful behaviors that are influenced by anger. “Anger does not contribute to good,” he states. “It is a destroyer, not a builder.” Righteous anger is justified in his view (such as Moses breaking the tablets or Jesus “cleansing” the temple), “[b]ut to lose our temper, to explode, to become ugly, punitive, and hateful when faced with frustrations is inexcusable!” Anger “destroys wisdom and sound judgment. When we become upset, reason is suppressed, and anger rushes in.” To have an “uncontrolled temper is [to be] like an undisciplined child.” Such a person expresses “emotions explosively or by sulking, and disregards the feelings of those about him.” In short, “[o]ne of the greatest accomplishments of a person in this life is to develop and practice self-control.” While anger can lead to inspired actions (one must not forget the wrath of God toward evil), many times in our modern age it leads to nothing more than divisive outrage statuses on Facebook or Twitter. “Your anger is a gift” only if it leads to action that actually helps people. Otherwise, it is just ego masturbation.

In the most uninteresting of the talks, S. Dilworth Young explains to the audience that they should bug their non-member neighbors about the Church because that is what Peter and Paul would apparently do. Moving on.

Milton R. Hunter’s talk on adultery is nothing new. However, I do like how he presents sexual morality in the context of human flourishing: “Frequently married people commit adultery and single people indulge their passions in acts of fornication. The results are unhappiness, the loss of love, breaking up of homes and destroying of family life, increase in the number of divorces, shame, loss of spirituality, apostasy, and eventually loss of eternal salvation.” This looks at sexual morality from the angle of eudaimonia; a perspective I tend to prefer. And while there are appropriate criticisms of the modern overemphasis on The Family™, Hunter provides an excellent reminder as to why the family plays such a large role in Mormonism: “The greatest of all laws in this gospel plan pertains to marriage for life and eternity. Thus it pertains to the family eternal. The sweetest joys and greatest blessings that can be gained in mortality and in the life to come are attained through family life lived in accordance with the gospel plan. Thus, a basic law in marriage is the law of chastity. Men and women cannot defile the fountain of life and reap a fullness of joy. Happiness and purity of heart and mind go hand in hand.” Family life is the context in which the good life is found.

So…Sterling W. Sill cusses over the pulpit:

Because we draw so much from the rebellion, weakness, and evil with which we are surrounded, we tend to load ourselves up too heavily with guilt complexes, mental problems, insecurity, and mediocrity. I recently heard of a man who compounded the problem by hoarding his mistakes. He often referred to the fact that his D.F.T. drawer was the largest file in his office. Someone once asked him what these file letters stood for, and he said they identified a collection of the damn fool things that he had done. Most of us are not bad people—we just let our D.F.T. files get too large (bold mine).

I fully plan on using this quote in a sacrament talk. What’s so great about it–beyond the ruffling of Mormon feathers–is that it addresses the all-too-common Mormon practice of self-flagellation. The talk highlights struggle and growth instead of impossible perfectionism and does so through the lens of optimism and hope. “The religion of Christ itself is not so much a set of ideas as it is a set of activities,” says Sills. “The purpose of the Church is to help us translate the principles of the gospel of Christ into constructive, meaningful human experience. And everyone should work toward this end by a daily practice of thinking some uplifting thoughts, listening to some fine music, reading some stimulating literature, doing some good deeds, and having some great experiences every day.” This fits with the above mentioned paradigm of eudaimonia. Sills offers a great reminder of how exciting life can be, beginning with one’s birth: “Great experience number one is that I managed to get myself born, and I have been very pleased about that ever since…I am very glad that [my parents] were not members of this modern breed of abortionists who are followers of King Herod in his program of slaughtering the innocents.” Drawing on Henry Thoreau, Sills believes “we should thank God every day of our lives for the privilege of having been born. And then he went on to speculate on the rather unique supposition of what it might have been like if we had not been born. Just suppose that you had never been born or that your parents had never been born. Think of all of the excitement and opportunities you would have missed as a consequence.” He then talks of rebirth, but not in the typical renew-my-covenants-every-week-via-the-sacrament way:

Phillip Brooks was once asked when he was born and he said, “It was one Sunday afternoon when I was twenty-five years old, just after I had finished reading a great book.” Saul of Tarsus was reborn on the Damascus road. Joseph Smith was born again after reading a great scripture. In 1932, Walter Pitkin wrote his book Life Begins at Forty, but that is ridiculous. Life begins every morning. Life begins when we begin. And our real lives begin when we determine to live by every word of the Lord.

This demonstrates that spiritual experiences can occur in many different ways through multiple forms and mediums. A good book is put on the same plane as Paul’s vision on the road to Damascus. It’s no longer strange to think that I may be far more moved by Pergolesi’s Stabat Mater or “Who Am I?” from Les Miserables than what I find in an LDS hymnal.

I appreciated Franklin D. Richards’ comments on wealth given the constant criticism (from both members and non) that the Church’s corporatism means it serves “mammon” instead of God. The first step to using wealth correctly according to Richards is responding to it with gratitude: “Regardless of the difficulties existing in the world today, we as a people must recognize that we have been blessed abundantly with the resources of this world; yet we know that whatever we have is the Lord’s and that he has blessed us with these things to see how we will use them.” Next, he touches on a subject I’ve written on for a forthcoming publication: the paradox of wealth as both a blessing and a curse.

It is interesting to note that here, as elsewhere in the scriptures, promises of earthly wealth and increased talents are made to those who live the gospel principles, and counsel is given to use our talents and wealth for the building of the kingdom. Many scriptures, however, contain words of admonition regarding temptations brought about through the acquisition of wealth and its use for unrighteous purposes…Throughout the history of the Church its leaders have taught the value of the principles of work, industry, and thrift; and as they have been practiced, Church members have prospered in numerous ways. Likewise, members have been counseled to establish and maintain their economic independence, and employment-creating industries have been encouraged. In furtherance of these teachings, every man who has property and means should live so as to obtain wisdom to know how to use them in the best possible way to produce the greatest amount of good for himself, for his family, for his fellowmen, and for the kingdom of God.

In summary, “the real test of a man is his attitude toward his earthly possessions.” However, the second half of the talk connects this with tithing. While I am convinced of the theological connection tithing has with the law of consecration, I can see this talk being interpreted as nothing more than a marketing ploy. The message?: Pay your tithing or you love money more than God. That’s a cynical interpretation, but possibly a valid one. What’s worse is it trumpets the rhetoric of the widow’s mite as being “as important and acceptable as the rich man’s offerings.” Yet, as New Testament scholar Craig Evans explains,

The context of the widow’s offering suggests…that it is an example of the very thing that Jesus warned about: the “house,” or estate, of the poor widow has finally been consumed. The traditional, popular interpretation that views the widow as a model of sacrificial giving probably has missed the point. Nor is the point that the smallness of her gift is in God’s sight equal to the much larger gifts of the wealthy. The point lies in the fact that the poor widow cannot afford her tiny gift, which amounts to “her whole life”…while the wealthy person who gives a large gift does not even miss it. The example of the widow’s mite is a tragic example of the exploitation of a temple establishment that has become oppressive, not generous and protective.[ref]Craig A. Evans, “Mark,” in Eerdmans Commentary on the Bible, ed. James D.G. Dunn, John William Rogerson (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000), 1093-1094.[/ref]

Nonetheless, Richards reminds us that the purpose of riches are for “doing good. Therefore, let us dedicate our means to the building of the kingdom of God. Let us this day resolve to be honest with the Lord in the payment of our tithes and offerings…The Church is designed to take care of the spiritual and temporal needs of its members, both living and dead; and the pattern encompasses programs such as educational, missionary, welfare, auxiliary, social services, genealogical, and many others.”[ref]For how much good the Church actually does around the world, see Ann M. Hansen, “The Minor Religions in International Relations: The Case of the Mormons in the 20th and 21st Centuries,” Ph.D. dissertation, Babes-Bolyai University (2013).[/ref]

Finally, Mark E. Petersen accompanies Spencer W. Kimball’s alarmist address with his own brand of apocalypticism: Crime rates are through the roof! The world is going to hell in a handbasket! Granted, crime had been rising for some time in 1971 and would continue through the 1990s. But crime has returned to 1970s rates. Furthermore, long-term trends show an overall decrease in violence worldwide. Even with slight upwards bumps in the U.S. homicide rate, the overall trend is one of decline. It’s data like these that makes it difficult to take claims that The World™ is getting worse seriously.

 

All in all, another enlightening, frustrating, and overall satisfying session of General Conference.

 

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Here are the other folks participating in this grand scheme who have also written blog posts responding to the Saturday Morning session of the April 1971 General Conference. (If any of the links don’t work, try back later. They are all coming online during the day.)