Approaching Zion: One Heart and One Mind

A Lunch Date and a Proposition

​A couple of months ago a reader of the blog reached out and invited me to lunch.

​Having never met him before, I thought it would be prudent to meet in a public place (I also took the precaution of texting a friend to let them know where I would be, in case my body was found floating in a river the next day).  Safety first.

But I had nothing to fear.  He turned out to be a perfect gentleman and we hit it off swimmingly.  We met at a restaurant in downtown Salt Lake near my office; he ordered tacos and I had a burger.

As we sat down at the table, and because we were going to discuss faith and religion (the reason he wanted to meet), I suggested we pray together.  We clasped hands and he offered a beautiful prayer, setting the mood.

It soon became clear I was to receive a missionary message; he shared his witness of a new prophet-servant that God had called on the scene to prepare us for the Second Coming.  My new friend came to me in the role of John the Baptist, a kind of forerunner, inviting me to "come and see" what this new religious movement was about.

Because I have believing blood, I took the fellow seriously.  I spent the next hour asking honest questions and listening.  Having been a spiritual wallflower most of my life, I was flattered that someone would ask me to dance.

But there were red flags, and I was not in the market for a new spiritual yoke (by which I mean, leader).

After all, why slip into someone else's priesthood downline when I have already been adopted by my spiritual Father, Christ?

At the end of lunch, I said, "Thank you, but I really don't need someone else to receive God's will for me, when I speak to Him myself."

He seemed surprised I was not impressed with his accounts of angelic visitations and ordinations and divine promises; things he felt made his prophet-servant truly special.

Special?  Do visions and visitations make us special?  I think not.  Good heavens, I call that Tuesday night.  The thing that makes us special is not what we have received, but what we have become.

Have we become vessels of God's love (John 13:35)?  Have we condescended to become the "least" of all (Mark 10:43-44)?

After lunch we embraced and said goodbye; I walked back to work, grateful for the conversation because it had clarified something for me: What I crave is community, but not chewed-and-choked-communities structured around other men's claims to divine authority.  That's not brotherhood, that's bondage.

I seek communities filled with God's grace and charity (as opposed to the cankerous "keys" and wealth of Babylon), in which we are friends and neighbors who share equally in the blessings and privileges of God, being self-governed and leaderless (but not Shepherdless, led by our Master).

I tire of spiritual Nebuchadnezzars and their golden heads, and seek after those who are childlike and poor in spirit.
​
   And [in that day] they shall
   teach no more every man
   his neighbour, saying,
   Know the Lord:
   for they shall all know me,
   from the least of them
   unto the greatest,
   saith the Lord.

(Jeremiah 31:34)

But the question remains, how will Zion be organized?

Because Zion will always need builders and organizers, even if it is free from Pontiffs and Presidents.

How is Unity Achieved?

Even though I disagreed with some of the things my new friend said, there was ample common ground upon which to build friendship and fellowship.

For, unity is not achieved through getting every one to believe the same things.

Let me explain.  If you took two people and matched them in a singular moment of time when their beliefs were identical (they were of "one mind"), then in order for them to remain "one," neither could change or grow beyond those initial beliefs.

This poses a real problem because our beliefs are presently imperfect.  None of us possesses the full knowledge of God.  So we must make allowance for change and growth in our beliefs ― and in the beliefs of others.

What is our typical reaction when our friends change their beliefs?  Or when a child decides to walk a different path?  Do we view them as "wayward?"  Do we treat it as a deviation from what we originally shared, an apostasy, even a betrayal?

This is why it is foolish to attach our identity to imperfect and incomplete beliefs ― which become a noose if not loosened to accommodate greater light and truth from above.

I see this all the time in marriages: couples do not always grow in tandem in their faith journeys; their beliefs over time may fall out of alignment.  When this happens, a partner is prone to view the others' journey in a critical light, as a breach of trust.

But it isn't an issue of trust, but of faith.  Are we creating enough grace in our relationships that we can remain united notwithstanding our individual growth and change and differences?

Do we allow others to soar to new heights, or do we clip their wings?  Do we allow others to plummet to new depths, and are willing to stand beside them anyway?

​A grown bird looks quite silly in the nest of its youth; heaven help the person whose views remain the same as on their wedding day, for better or for worse.

The Key to Unity

What is the solution?  Let me suggest a shift in focus from what we believe ― (ever evolving for those seeking greater truth) ― to what we commonly desire.

For example, I desire greater intimacy with God.  Don’t you?  Even if we believe different things, our desire is "one" ― our hearts are aligned.

This is how we become "one heart."  I can be "one" with a Catholic or Muslim or prison inmate or anyone who shares a desire for greater intimacy with God.

Let's apply this concept to our relationship with the Lord.  Because (let's be honest) the Lord's beliefs look nothing like our own.  We are limited and myopic but He is not; the Lord sees all things as "they really are," whereas we "see through a glass darkly."

So how can we be "one" with the Lord when we're so far apart in faith and knowledge and everything else?

The answer, of course, is found in our shared desire.  We become "one" with God when the desires of our heart align with His ― yes, it's possible!

This doctrine is spread like morning dew throughout the scriptures, the doctrine of desires, and it holds the key to becoming "one."

Why else do you think when an angel or the Lord appears they always ask:

   What desirest thou?

(D&C 7:1)

How marvelous it is, the fact that our feeble, broken hearts can actually beat with the same holy desires as God's.

All we need to figure out, then, is what does God desire?

What Does God Desire?

What God desires is not as obvious as it appears; if we listened to the chatter all around us, we might think God desires us to be straight-laced, sitting-for-tea-and-crumpets, straight-A-students who watch polo at the Country Club and organize fundraisers for the preservation of pink poodles.  (For, this is what religions are famous for producing: well-to-do, smooth-faced hypocrites.)

So we might be surprised to learn that what God actually desires bears little resemblance to what we're taught in Church. 

   For I DESIRED mercy,
   and not sacrifice.

(Hosea 6:6)

Mercy, huh?  That's too bad, I was really hoping it was temple covenants.  Or tithing.

"Tim," someone says, "you sure talk about mercy a lot.  But don't forget about justice, okay?  Doesn't God desire justice?  How about giving a heaping pile of justice to all them free-loaders out there?"

I would respond to our Country Club friend:  "Well, yes, God is just ― but not in the way we suppose; for the justice of God is demonstrated in the way He grants unto all men according to their desires, as Alma taught."

   I know that he [God]
   granteth unto men
   according to their desire,
   whether it be unto death
   or unto life.

(Alma 29:4)

In case we missed his point, Alma makes it clear that this is the reason we can declare Him to be "a just God" (Alma 29:4).  In other words, God's justice is to . . . fulfil our desires?  Yes, whether "it be unto death or unto life."

Why don't we follow suit?  Why don't we dispense justice like God does, by granting others according to their desires (even if it is not in their eternal best interests)?

No, we prefer a "tough" love, a firm hand; we prefer to dispense a measured mercy.

We prefer Satan's program of catch-and-release: we catch others in their sin and spank the "hell" out of them until they get their act together, and then we release them on probation, keeping a close eye on them, seeking to impose what we desire for them (since we know better; and isn't it for their own good?).

It never ceases to amaze me how many different ways we can paint our pridefulness as "love."

Remember, the lashes with which we whip our neighbor are the lashes Christ received on our behalf.

A Tale of Two Preachers

Yesterday on my way to work on the train I read an exchange between two Christian preachers.

Preacher One (a guy named Shane Pruitt) posted on Twitter:

"In many churches today, you'll hear the word 'love' a thousand times, before you hear the word 'repent' one time.

"However, Elijah said repent.  Isaiah said repent.  Joel said repent.  Jonah said repent.  Jeremiah, Micah, Amos, and Malachi all preached repentance.

"John the Baptist said repent.  Jesus said repent.  The Disciples said repent.

"The message has not changed."

Preacher Two (a guy named Sam Powell) issued a public response:

"When you pit love and repentance against each other like this, you don't understand either one.

"Repentance is turning away from the attempt at self-salvation, with its iron clad, man-made rules, making one censorious, judgmental, proud and contemptuous, and turning towards love, compassion, mercy and humility.

"The modern preacher's call to repentance is simply a call to remain in the slavery of Egypt, working harder and harder to make more bricks of our own self-righteousness.  The love of God calls us out; this is repentance."

Egypt Needs Pharaohs, Zion Does Not

I want to focus on this part of what Sam Powell said, "The modern preacher's call to repentance is [often] simply a call to remain in the slavery of Egypt, working harder and harder to make more bricks of our own self-righteousness.  The love of God calls us out; this is repentance."

Are we in Egypt, are we captives?  Well, the answer may come as a shock, for Lehi told his sons:

   Arise
   from the dust, my sons,
   and be men (!)
   and be determined
      (1) in one mind
      (2) and in one heart,
      (3) united in all things,
   [why? Why is this so important?]
   that ye may NOT
      (1) come down into captivity;
      (2) that ye may not be cursed
           with a sore cursing;
      (3) that ye may not incur
            the displeasure
            of a just God
            upon you
            unto destruction.

(2 Nephi 1:21-22)  

Ah, now we see what Lehi means by the "destruction" brought about by a "just God."  It doesn't mean God destroys us, it means our unrighteous desires do.

As Clark Burt wrote, "Pride left unchecked leads to destruction.  But not destruction by God, but by the people themselves when they seek to become a law unto themselves.  God on the other hand does not send the destruction or cause it to happen.  He works to save humankind."  ("Repentance: All But the Very Elect Will Be Deceived, Part 1," Given by the Finger of God blog.)

Consider: what if we (as a people) ― who have not become equal, and are not united as "one" (D&C 105:4) ― are currently experiencing the fulfilment of Lehi's words?

   (1) Has the Church been brought into captivity?
   (2) Has the Church been cursed with a sore cursing?
   (3) Has the Church groaned with the death-pains of its own destruction?

I want to suggest that being "destroyed" does not mean we're annihilated or swept off the earth.  It doesn't mean we (or the Church) cease to exist.

Rather, in the Book of Mormon we learn that peoples and the Church of God are "destroyed" when they lose their spiritual identity and blessings ― even as they go on for generations, business-as-usual, blithely unaware that they have in fact already been "destroyed."
 
Have our churches been swallowed by the Great and Abominable Mother?  Have they been ruined, even as we preceived it not (JS-H 1:19)?

​Don't panic, we are not cast off forever.  The Lord is, above all else, a seeker of lost lambs.

Let us become "one" and await His rescue.