Previous: Part 15, A Faith Beyond

"Because I could not stop for Death"

  Because I could not stop for Death
  He kindly stopped for me―
  The Carriage held but just Ourselves
  And Immortality.

(Emily Dickinson, 1863)

If you're like me, chances are your faith could use a boost.  Have you felt the stiffness in your joints?  There is an arthritis that creeps into our faith; stretching our faith exposes the sore spots.

Faith is fluid and needs to be in motion; she must walk and run and fly, or else she grows weary; her ligaments will seize up, resistant to change, if neglected.

Isn't that why we call it "exercising" our faith?

   If ye will awake
   and arouse your faculties
   [yes, put on those leg warmers]
   even to an experiment
   upon my words,
   and EXERCISE a particle of faith . . . 

(Alma 32:27)

Like attending physical therapy, our faith needs regular stretching, such as feeding the hungry and clothing the naked.  Faith prefers to rock-out in yoga pants while visiting the sick, not feeling comfortable in the stuffed skirts of sanctimony. 

This is why we're not supposed to just "have" faith ― as if faith were a possession, or a passive noun ― as much as we are to "exercise" faith.  Faith is a verb circling the heavens as we jog to a mixed-tape on our 'Walkman' (Moses 7:69), playing Zion's greatest-hits.

Take the Book of James in the Bible, for example.  The main point in James is that faith must get up from the couch; she must dust the potato chip crumbs off her lap and do something. 

   Though a man say
   he hath faith,
   and have not works,
   can faith save him?

(James 2:14)

James goes so far as to call a sedentary faith "dead" (despite all of our covenantal pretensions and claims to the contrary).

Dead?  How can we tell?  Is our faith moving?  Is she creating?  Is she singing?

Corpses don't move; they are given over to professional morticians who charge a fee to pose the body in a pleasing fashion, so onlookers can admire the resemblance of the living at the Viewing.  So it is with a "dead" faith.

The one thing dead bodies all have in common is rigor mortis.  Has spiritual rigor mortis set in the members of the body of Christ in your area?

   It was not Death, for I stood up,
   And all the Dead, lie down―

(Emily Dickinson, 1862)

"I heard a Fly Buzz when I died"

On January 11, 2023, I returned home from work on the Frontrunner commuter train.  It was cold and dark, around 6:00 at night.
 
I got off at my station and saw a young man (mid-twenties? thirties?) lying on a bench, unmoving.

I followed the crowd down the platform towards the exit, tired.  My legs carried me on autopilot.  But as I walked down the stairs, something troubled me about the way the young man had been hunched over, almost unnaturally, on the bench.  I slung my satchel over my shoulder and turned around against the current, through the crowds, retracing my steps up the stairs to check on him.

By now the platform had mostly cleared.  I approached the man and took a good look at him.  I am not a doctor and wouldn't know where to put my fingers to check for a pulse.  So instead I kicked him.  Yes, I kicked the man's foot and said loudly, "Hey!  Are you okay?" (Not my most poetic utterance.)

No response.  I knew it would be another 30 minutes before the next train arrived.  I looked around, uncertain, and saw only one other person left on the platform, watching me, and he shrugged from a distance.

I became a bit more bold, grabbing the young man by the shoulder and roughly shaking him.  "Hey!" I yelled.  "Can you hear me?!”

Again, no response.  The man’s body slumped lower on the bench as I released him.  I stood back, pondering what to do.  I couldn't detect any signs of life.

  I heard a Fly buzz – when I died –
  The Stillness in the Room
  Was like the Stillness in the Air
  Between the Heaves of Storm.

(Emily Dickinson, 1862)

Death takes many forms.  My guess was the man had overdosed on drugs.  Having been a prosecutor for 13 years, I recognized the man's sores; he matched the profile.  I sighed and removed my phone from my pocket, calling 911.  I told the dispatcher to send an ambulance, and explained I feared it was already too late.

I hung up and waited for the police to arrive.  My thoughts, oddly, turned to the young man's parents.  I imagined them receiving the dreaded call later that night, notifying them of their son's death.  What a sad way to go, all alone on a dreary winter night at a public train station.

I paced back and forth, keeping an eye out for the ambulance, while offering a silent prayer, hoping, if there was even a tiny life-spark left in the man, that the Lord would revive him, or help him hold on until paramedics arrived with Narcan.

Chances seemed slim because the man hadn’t breathed in the five or ten minutes I had been with him.  That is when I received one of the greatest scares of my life, as the man, out of nowhere, bolted upright and jumped to his feet as if struck with a defibrillator, nearly knocking me over.

He was jittery and disoriented; he waved his arms about and almost fell off the edge of the platform into the trackage.  I grabbed him and guided him back to the bench.

"Where's my suboxone?  My Adderall?" he said over and over, incoherently.  I stayed with him until the emergency responders arrived.  They put him on a stretcher and transported him to the hospital.

When it was all over, I headed back down the stairs to the parking lot to my car.  Again I thought of the man's parents, for some reason.  I thanked the Lord they wouldn’t be getting that dreaded phone call after all.  I asked Heavenly Father to bless the man, whose name I never learned, so he might bring joy to his parents in years to come.

I share this to say, God can breathe new life into our faith, regardless of our condition.  America has witnessed two Great Awakenings, why not a third?  Even if it feels like our faith has flat-lined, we must remember that God is (as Jesus declared) "the God of the living."

   He is not the God
   of the dead,
   but the God
   of the living.

(Mark 12:27)

​Like the young man I found slumped on the bench that night, I wonder how often God has looked at us, slouched on the pews at Church on Sunday: "Can you hear Me?  Are you okay?"

We all need a good kick, now-and-then.

"I felt a Funeral, in my Brain"

​   I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,
   And Mourners to and fro
   Kept treading, treading, 'til it seemed
   That Sense was breaking through

(Emily Dickinson, 1861)

Emily Dickinson died at the age of 55 in 1886, from what they think was kidney disease.

Emily was a contemporary of Mormon poet and Relief Society President, Eliza R. Snow, who followed Emily through the veil the following year in 1887.

Both women shared an affinity for poetry, but not husbands.  Emily was a recluse and never married.  I like to believe these two women were raised up by God as voices for Him, each expressing faith in her own unique way.

During her lifetime, Emily Dickinson only published a few poems.  After her death, though, her sister ― while cleaning out her personal effects ― discovered something Emily had kept secret from everyone: 1,800 poems that filled a large chest, carefully kept.  Emily's family published the poems posthumously.

Emily Dickinson left detailed instructions for her own funeral.  She wanted her favorite poem read, "No Coward Soul is Mine," by the other Emily ― Emily Brontë.  I love that poem, too; when I began Owl of the Desert four years ago, I quoted it on my poetry's main page.  It says:

  Vain are the thousand creeds
  That move men's hearts, unutterably vain,
  Worthless as withered weeds
  Or idlest froth amid the boundless main.

I think it is safe to say that faith suffers most among "the thousand creeds / That move men's hearts, unutterably vain / Worthless as withered weeds."

I suppose I could list several creeds taught by the modern Church, but I do not wish to offend anyone.  Instead, consider a "creed" to be any belief we cling to, even when the Lord calls us through His Spirit to let it go for something better; and so we are left with the "lesser portion" of His word, when God wants to give us something higher, holier, and humbler.

In this way, creeds act like weeds in our spiritual garden (Matt. 15:13), cluttering valuable real estate and getting in the way of the Lord's lima beans and peas and radishes.  Creeds produce famines in the land.

An example of a creed among Evangelicals would be "A Bible, a Bible! We have got a Bible!"  This belief limits the amount of truth they are willing to receive.  If you try to have a rational argument that goes against their interpretation of something Paul taught 2000 years ago, good luck!  The equivalent among the LDS people would be "A Prophet, a Prophet!  We have got a Prophet!" (and to the same effect).

Now, to be clear, the Bible is a good thing!  Prophets are good things!  But creeds corrode and corrupt and canker what would otherwise be good, leading to error. 

On the other hand, what would the opposite of 'creeds' be?  Where does faith thrive?  If 'creeds' produce poor soil for planting faith's seed, what sort of soil should we be searching for?  What soil is fertile?

  Heavenly Hurt, it gives us –
  We can find no scar,
  But internal difference –
  Where the Meanings, are

(Emily Dickinson, 1861)

The answer, of course, is love.  Faith is activated by love.  The test is simple: a living faith is something that breathes love into our relationships, our families, our communities.

I am sure you've seen instances of people attempting to exercise faith in the absence of love; usually in something they deem "right."  But that kind of faith is generally D.O.A.; when we place faith in "rightness" rather than in flesh-and-bone, it will be a cold, soulless thing.

Faith in creeds gets you the Crusades; faith animated by the love of God gets you crucified.​

"This is my letter to the World"

  This is my letter to the World
  That never wrote to Me―
  The simple News that Nature told
  With tender majesty.

(Emily Dickinson, 1862)

There is one statement by our Lord Jesus Christ ― one singular pearl in His fine strand ― that has given me more faith and hope than any other.  Whenever my faith flickers, when doubt whispers in my stomach and my heart feels faint, I clutch this pearl as a drowning man does a life preserver.

And no, I don't think it is a creed because my understanding of it keeps evolving, growing, and reorienting; these words are alive, and thereby I know they are not a corpse.

The scripture I am talking about is found in John 10.  When I die, if I had but one page of holy writ with which to cover me for burial, it would be John 10 ― where Jesus reveals Himself as our Shepherd, and us, His lambs.  The whole chapter, really, is a shot of adrenaline for our faith.  But the part in particular I cherish, are these words:

   [I] know my sheep, and . . . 
   they shall never perish,
   neither shall any man
   pluck them out of my hand.
   My Father, which gave them me,
   is greater than all.

(John 10:14, 28-29)

You and I read those words and think, "Ah, that's sweet."  But not the Pharisees.  When they heard it, "the Jews took up stones again to stone him" (John 10:31).  Why?  Why were the Jews so offended by Him declaring Himself to be our Savior, the Son of God?

Well, it went against their Mosaic creeds.  Did you notice the part where He said no man can "pluck them out of my hand"?  Those were fightin' words; they drew a fine line in the sand.  Ask yourself: who exactly is trying to separate us from God?

Well, that would be the religious leaders who taught the people to believe in various tenets and creeds, along the lines of: "Jesus, no, cannot actually save you without X, Y, Z" (where X, Y and Z are naturally considered to be under their purview).

The spiritual successors-in-interest to the Pharisees are still at it today, insinuating themselves between us and God, and developing theologies that place their authority at the forefront.  It really is unseemly, but they somehow make it appear holy.

The worst creeds in Christendom can be summed up as follows: "Jesus is powerless to save you without X."  Do they hear themselves?  Such is a mockery of God's Son and His infinite and eternal mercy.

That is why Jesus offended the Jews (and let's be honest, why He would not be welcomed in most churches): He cut-out the blubber; He dismissed the middle-men; He exposed their grift.  Jesus stood there and declared NO ONE ― especially no hireling or petty thief ― was going to kidnap one of His lambs.

But Mammon took umbrage!  For how will her priests be compensated if they cannot engage in spiritual human-trafficking, buying and selling "the souls of men" (Rev. 18:13)?

So the Judaizers and Constantine and the Neoplatonists, and all that came afterwards, went to the corporate handbook of Mergers-and-Acquisitions (as businessmen do), and befouled Christ's gospel and pure religion with their wares and trinkets, their scarlets and silks and gold, their granite vaults filled with vain imaginations and deceit ― so that here we are, in 2024, right where Nephi said we would be, bearing "a yoke of iron" (1 Nephi 13:5) instead of the yoke of Christ. 

  After great pain, a formal feeling comes―
  The Nerves sit ceremonious, like tombs―

(Emily Dickinson, 1862)

This is why, when I hear others telling us to "get onboard" with how the sausage is made and the pork is sold in the Church, and to not rock the boat (as if we were galley-slaves), I want to say, "Pardon me, I am not any ship you're steering; don't you see us, here, in the palms of Jesus?  Why would we trade that for rusty oars-and-chains?"  I am done with scurvy.

Held in the hand of our Lord, their protestations are rendered powerless (and it angers them).  Freed from the fear of their recrimination, we set forth upon uncharted seas, pressing forward, catching the Lord's breath in our sails, which fills ― and finishes ― our faith.

   Looking unto Jesus
   the author and finisher
   of our faith . . .
   despising the shame,
   and is set down at the right hand
   of the throne of God.

(Hebrews 12:2)

And guess what?  Once we've escaped the hierarchal order of things, we begin to love each other as "one," as equals, as brothers and sisters in very deed.

"Shadows hold their breath"

   Shadows ― hold their breath ― 
   When it goes, ‘tis like the Distance
   On the look of Death
​
(Emily Dickinson, 1861)

God brought us back to life; for were we not dead, and now "liveth unto God" (Rom. 6:10)?  Can He breathe life back into our churches?  Can the Lord lift us from the serotonin-rich-quicksand of priestcraft?  Of course He can.

​The reason that faith is dwindling in the Church (among others) is because we have replaced the gospel of Jesus Christ with a neo-temple-theology.  I cannot be the only one who has noticed.

The problem, you see, with temple-theologies is that they are deleterious to a living faith.  Remember the veil of the temple in Jerusalem that was rent in twain at Christ's death?  Why have we stitched it back together with silver thread and super-glue, placing it under lock-and-seal so that now we must depend upon those with priesthood "keys" rather than upon Christ (who holds the Key of David)?

Earlier this month in General Conference, President Nelson gave a talk titled, "Rejoice in the Gift of Priesthood Keys" (I wish I were making this up).  Not "Rejoice in Jesus Christ" ― you know, as Nephi told us to (2 Nephi 25:26).  Nope.  Rejoice in the authority given unto men.

President Nelson said, "Priesthood keys give us the authority to extend all of the blessings promised to Abraham to every covenant-keeping man and woman.... Time in the temple will help you to think celestial and to catch a vision of who you really are, who you can become, and the kind of life you can have forever." (April 2024 General Conference).

Janey on Wheat and Tares said:

"Think Celestial?  The hymn Have I Done Any Good in the World Today? admonishes us to 'wake up' and stop focusing on our celestial reward and instead to look at the chances to do good that are all around us in this world.  In President Nelson’s talk 'Think Celestial!' there is not one word about reaching out to help other people."

A commenter on reddit wrote, "My parents are temple workers.  They would rather spend time 'working' in the temple than spend time with their grandchildren.  This is a fact."

A person responded, "Working in the temple is certainly a lot easier than dealing with the hungry, the naked, and the prisoners that Jesus mentioned."

We worship the God of the living!  A temple-theology should not eclipse the telestial-work God has called us to do.

To paraphrase Jesus, "Let the dead baptize their dead" (Luke 9:60).*

   And yet, it tasted, like them all,
   The Figures I have seen
   Set orderly, for Burial,
   Reminded me, of mine―

(Emily Dickinson, 1862)

(*Don't worry, we've still got the Millennium.)

Goodbye

​​I lived
    never whole
    but in bits and parts
    a life of interrupted starts
The assembly
    of my days, their meaning
    a bequeathal of soot
    I leave you
 
Life was
   an act of aching
   the coaxing of an ember
   breathless, trying to remember
Something lost
   love? arthritis is
   but innocence bending
   at the end
 
Death is
   liquid craving bone
   a smile upon your lips
   but this? an apocalypse
One embraces
   again, again the memory
   ―and absence―
   of you

[Above: Walden Pond, Massachusetts, 2017]

Previously: Part 14: A Faith Beyond

"Now Comes Good Sailing"

Henry David Thoreau was a contemporary of Joseph Smith, but he took a different path to the divine.

In 1845 (the year following the Martyrdom) Thoreau was nearly 30 years old and found himself in the midst of an existential crisis.

The world had undergone one of its most transformative periods in history ― the Industrial Revolution ― and Thoreau was not impressed.

In particular, he was troubled by the dreariness of life for the working-class, who labored for subpar wages and led "lives of quiet desperation."

And so Thoreau set out to unclutter his soul by living a simpler way-of-life.  He embarked upon a two-year experiment at Walden Pond, where he built a little hut and detached himself from the world.

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately ... and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.  I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life."  (If ever there was a motto I could get behind, there it is:  "I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life.")

(I once attempted my own Walden Pond experiment in college, going up Maple Mountain by myself, to spend overnight alone, fasting, thinking I would commune with the Lord like Enos.  I took only a blanket and pad of paper and pen.  I lasted about four hours before giving up and heading back down the mountain, sunburned, my notepad empty.  I drove to Provo and stopped at Chuck-a-Rama for dinner.  Hey, I tried!)

At the end of Thoreau's life, during his final illness, his Aunt Louisa visited him and asked if he had made his peace with God.  Thoreau famously replied, "I did not know we had ever quarreled."

On May 6, 1862, he died.  His last words were, "Now comes good sailing."  He was 44 years old.

His friend, Ralph Waldo Emerson, published a eulogy for him in the Atlantic Monthly.  "He chose to be rich by making his wants few, and suppling them himself.  He was bred to no profession; he never married; he lived alone; he never went to church; he never voted.  Yet, hermit and stoic as he was, he was fond of sympathy and threw himself heartily and childlike into the company of young people, whom he loved, always ready to lead a huckleberry-party or a search for chestnuts or grapes.

"In 1847 he refused to pay his town tax, and was put in jail.  A friend paid the tax for him, and he was released.  The like annoyance was threatened the next year.  But, as his friends paid the tax, notwithstanding his protest, he ceased to resist.

"No truer American existed than Thoreau; he was a speaker and actor of the truth, standing for abolition of slavery, abolition of tariffs, almost for abolition of government.  The country knows not yet, or in the least part, how great a son it has lost.

"He had in a short life exhausted the capabilities of this world.  The axe was always destroying his forest.  'Thank God,' he said, 'they cannot cut down the clouds.'"

(Ralph Waldo Emerson, August 1862, "Thoreau", The Atlantic, pp. 239; I've edited and combined excerpts for brevity and clarity.)

"Thank God They Cannot Cut Down the Clouds"

One of the hardest things for us to do is to support the faith of others ― especially when we do not share their vision, or have not received the same spirit as they have.  

How quickly we "cut down the clouds" of our fellows, thinking we know better than they, viewing their differences as "error."

I struggle with this myself.  Recently I was reminded how judgmental I am, and how easily I dismiss other people's notions (at least the ones I find "weird."  Yes, I know: it takes one to know one).

For all of my talk about being "open minded" and allowing others to follow their personal inspiration, I confess to being an occasional wet blanket.  Et tu, Brute?

Case in point: there's currently a resurgence of religious fervor among some Christians to reinstitute the Jewish feast days.  Yes, even though the Lord fulfilled the Law of Moses.

While I enjoy a good Seder meal and appreciate the historical and cultural significance of the Jewish calendar, this strikes me as a bit fringe, this newfound  emphasis on Jewish holidays.

But the real reason, I think, I was taken off guard was not because people were choosing to celebrate the old holy days, but because they implied we all should be, making it sound like it was God's will for everyone.

But as I pondered the issue and my reaction, I realized I was being hypocritical.  No one was forcing me to participate.  Why was I reacting negatively to something that didn't even effect me?  And if someone invited me to join them and to blow my shofar 'till I'm red in the face (or whatever else one does at them), why shouldn't I?  For didn't Paul say:

   One man esteemeth
   one day above another:
   another esteemeth
   every day alike.
   Let every man
   be fully persuaded
   in his own mind.

(Romans 14:5)

I concluded that if someone wants to celebrate the Feast of Trumpets as a Christian, who am I to second-guess them?  I can honor their walk with God, arm-in-arm, right?

Because, don't we all want others to respect the way we choose to exercise our faith in God, even if, to them, it seems "weird"?

I've found it's easier to be respectful of another's faith when it is worlds apart from our own, like if they're Buddhist or Muslim.  But when someone is part of our own faith-tradition, closer-to-home, and does something we don't understand, it is harder to honor their choices.  Why is that?

Upon reflection, maybe the reason Zion hasn't arisen yet is because we've been trying to get everyone on the same page ― as if there was a single, celestial ideal that everyone had to agree upon and live up to ― rather than just loving each other in our glorious, Christ-given diversity.

Isn't this what Paul was trying to teach us in 1 Corinthians 12?  Wasn't he telling us to stop trying to get everyone to act like femurs or humeruses, unbending bones, and be more like elbows and kneecaps?  Those are joints; and are we not called to be "joint-heirs" with Christ?

With Christ as our head, maybe it's okay if the ears celebrate Shavu'ot and the lips go to the circus instead; and if the toes want to swim in a yellow polka dot bikini while the kidneys dress like nuns.  There's no reason to get worked up over our differences.

I am beginning to believe that the cause of Zion is not advanced by dictating a one-size-fits-all faith or worship, assuming we know what is correct for everyone based on what is right for me, as if our version of faith were the universal standard.

I regret spending so long trying to persuade others to come around to my way of thinking, when I should have been trying to get them to come around to Christ. 

So let us be like Christ who did whatever pleased His Father (John 8:29).

Because if "the unity of the faith" (Eph. 4:13) were to be achieved through an authoritative-orthodox-model-of-religion, the Church would have long ago succeeded.

But after two thousand years, we're no closer to a unity of faith.  Isn't that shocking?  What is it going to take?

Well, for starters, why not cheer for the "Thoreaus" of the world, and their crazy experiments?  Sure, there's no way I'm gonna live for two years on Walden Pond without electricity or plumbing, but if you want to?  I'll bring you tater tot casseroles and check in on how things are going.

Let us support each other in our individual Waldens. 

"Try the Experiment"

Few seem willing to experiment with their faith today.  What are we afraid of?

   1.  "No, no, Tim; we're not here to experiment.  God's will is revealed to us in the scriptures and through the prophets.  We've just got to knock some obedience into those who haven't got the Memo, my dear boy.  You know, all those folks out there in the fields experimenting with different kinds of seeds?  Why can't they just harvest the squash right in front of them, like everyone else?  They're making this difficult."

   2.  "Tim, my lovable loon," someone else objects, "They're right.  God's House is a house of order.  We need to avoid confusion and disagreement.  We've got to hold onto God's one, single, celestial ideal, and require everyone who wants to be 'in the boat' to conform, even if it kills them.  If they don't hold their feet-to-the-fire, we throw them overboard and let them drown.  Here, I'll prepare the plank."

My colleagues in #1 and #2 must be unfamiliar with Alma 32, which says:

   Neither must ye lay aside
   your faith . . .

Ask yourself: how do we "lay aside" our faith?  Is it by substituting our faith in Christ with an alternative device, therewith hoping to gain our eternal reward?

   Plant the seed
   that ye might try
   the experiment . . .

Faith is sowing seeds in his field, not knowing which ones will yield fruit.

We reverse the process, going to the store and asking the clerk, "I want only seeds that are viable, that will grow no matter what the conditions of my soil.  Just give me superman seeds, basically."

No matter how handsome or wise the store clerk is, they can't tell us whether a seed will grow or not.  There are no superman seeds.

Good seeds are simply those that grow.  Bad seeds produce no growth.  We can tell whether a seed is good if it causes our faith in God to grow.  (Inversely, what would a "bad" seed be?)

   As the tree beginneth
   to grow . . . 

Okay, we've got a good seed!  It "beginneth to grow."  Into what?  Has our seed sprouted into a . . . tomato plant?  Watermelon?  Giraffe? 

Nope: it's a tree.  Not just any tree, but "the tree of life" (Alma 32:40).

Here's the point: the Tree of Life is grown in each of us.  The only way to "partake" or "pluck" of its fruit is to have it inside of us.

So instead of thinking of the Tree of Life as something external to us, try thinking of it as the Tree we've tended throughout our lifetime, "springing up unto everlasting life" (Alma 32:41).

   Nourish it with great care,
   that it may get root.

Nourish how?  It makes far more sense when we realize what the Tree is, and where it is (inside of us) and, most importantly, Who it is.

Each Soul is a Tree of Life

There, I said it (I even bolded it and underlined it).  Each soul is a seed that can grow into a Tree of Life.

There is danger in trying to prune someone else's branches, for each Tree is unique, in God's image ― but not identical.

By way of metaphor, pretend our Trees are bonsai trees ("wax on, wax off").  Over the years, the Master of the Vineyard works with me on my Bonsai.  In time it bears His countenance and is shaped, say, like a Lion (hippopotamus?).

So picture me wandering around the neighborhood with my pruning hook, with a sense of self-importance (my Bonsai's looking pretty good, after all), and I see your Tree.  But it looks wrong to me, not quite right.  God helped me to shape my Tree into a Lion, so why does yours look like a Lamb?

Imagine the violence of me taking my shears and cutting off some of your branches to make it resemble my own tree better.  Is this one way we "offend one of these little ones?"

The Tree of Life takes many forms, as natural things always do.  Each one is beautiful.  Trees represent family.  These trees are not stamped in a factory, from a mold, and air-lifted into our hearts.  There is no one-right-way to "family" because the Family of God are not robots.  Love bridges all variations and differences.

The important thing to remember is that our own Tree begins as a seed taken from Christ's Tree.

We plant His tree-seed in our hearts, and nourish it with His living water, and patiently watch it grow gradually into a Tree after His likeness, in His own kind. 

Our fully-grown Son-or-Daughter-Tree produces seeds (fruit) of its own.  We hope to pass along these seeds to our children.

As we observe the Trees in the orchard grow, we begin to notice a lot of variation.  Variation is not deviation.

All things that grow take upon themselves a uniqueness.  This is God's way; it is His glory.

Enter: Wild Fruit

Any time there's experimentation, we're bound to produce some wild fruit.  That is part of the process.

I mean, we aren't going to produce only good fruit.  By virtue of God giving us agency, there will invariably be some branches-gone-wild.

"Wild fruit" or branches in scripture can refer to individuals or peoples, but as I'm using it here, I only mean practices that do not comport with God's celestial law.

The million-dollar question becomes:  What does God do with the wild fruit?

Answer:  It depends.

There is an aspect of God's plan, and heaven's constitution, that is nuanced and often overlooked.

Wild fruit is, yes, generally burned (Jacob 5:9).  The Lord does not favor wild fruit.

But for a moment, you lovable pyromaniacs (D&C 86:5), put your matches away; we don't need to call down fire from heaven for every infraction; differences do not equal a diseased branch.

Because there are exceptions; Christ's gospel is designed for them (why else do we call it the "good" news?).

God's grace allows, at times (generally due to the faith of someone), for wild fruit to be grafted into Him (Jacob 5:10), and thereby become tame, or natural.

Now, I am using imagery from the allegory of the olive tree, but I am not speaking dispensationally, but personally.

A Celestial Thought Experiment

Pretend for a moment that in heaven, the celestial law is X.  God gives commandments unto the children of men to abide by X.  It's the ideal.  God never tells anyone to do anything other than X because He cannot vary from what He hath said.

But guess what: mortality is messy.  Look around!  There's also A, B, Q and R, and a hundred other letters.  What does God do with all these mortal adaptations, the alphabet soup we create here below?  "Well, Tim, those unruly, wild fruits will 'be thrown down, and shall not remain after men are dead' (D&C 132:13)."

Okay, is that the end-of-story?  We're just going to pick up God's trumpet and, with it, tell the most biodiverse and glorious creation under heaven to "get in line or else?"

Let me introduce you to F.  F-for-Fred.  F-for-Faith.  He's a faithful fellow who lives his life and, for whatever reason, ends up with Z instead of X.  Whoops, right?

Well, our initial, knee-jerk reaction is to rehabilitate Fred and get him on the straight and narrow: "Buddy, repent of Z and get on board with X.  Or else you will be tossed into the air fryer at the last day."

Not bad advice, if we were playing the odds.  But here's where things get interesting.  For Fred is the possessor of great faith (we wouldn't have thought it from the looks of him).  Fred cries unto the Lord.  Given Fred's biological factors, epigenetic history, and his social, cultural, and other limitations, Fred pleads with the Lord.  And lo and behold, Fred obtains God's word through faith.  Like Abraham, he "receives the promise" of God. 

Thus Fred and the Lord arrive at an understanding, as it were, where accommodation is made for Z.  (If you're keeping score, this is the narrative of Hebrews 11, with all the Rehabs of the world.)

Now watch: Fred dies and goes to heaven, where you'd expect there to be, you know, only X.  But Fred is Z and walks freely along the golden sidewalks, passing some bewildered angels.  "Umm, Lord," an unassuming angel asks, "What's Fred doing in the celestial kingdom?  He doesn't have X."

"It's none of your concern," the Keeper of the Gate answers.

Now multiply Fred's "Z" by worlds without end, and by the fact God's seed stretches endlessly through time and space, and all the multi-splendored variation of saved creations as the sands upon the seashore, and ask yourself: Exactly how much diversity is there in the Celestial Kingdom?

To be sure, Z is not the standard; no one is arguing for Z to be rolled out among the beasts of the field and the fowls of the air.  It is not God's ideal.

And yet!  There is Fred: perfectly acceptable and suitable to God's kingdom as Z, and as agreeable and in-season as the driven snow, X-notwithstanding.

This explains Paul's mysterious saying ― who, recall, knew a man who had been caught up to the third heaven (2 Cor. 12:2):

And those members of the body, which we think to be less honourable, upon these we bestow more abundant honour; and our uncomely parts have more abundant comeliness.

For our comely parts have no need: but God hath tempered the body together, having given more abundant honour to that part which lacked:

That there should be no schism in the body; but that the members should have the same care one for another.

​​(1 Corinthians 12:23-25)

The Parable of the Five Sons

A mother had five sons.

The first was strong and worked the fields.  He grew into a tall, fine man and was everything a mother could ask for in a son.

The second son was a tanner of leather and worked wonders with his craft.  He was short and stout and brought great pride to his mother.

The third son mined stone from a quarry to provide bread for his family, and was a man of few words.  His mother loved him fiercely, even more so after a large piece of limestone fell and crushed his leg.  The doctors amputated his leg to spare his life.

The fourth son was born with an elegance and grace that suited him perfectly for the ballet, where he dazzled and entertained the hearts of many, his mother's most of all.

Finally, her fifth son was born with disabilities and required a wheelchair, but went on to make many notable discoveries in science.  The mother was protective of him, her baby, and showered him in her affections.

The mother boasted to all she met about her five sons, all of whom, she said, she loved equally.

As she neared the end of her days, she desired to give one last parting gift to her sons before rejoining her ancestors in the sky.

Being a practical-minded woman, she wanted to give them something they could use daily and benefit from.  Something to remember her by after her departure from this world.

She sought out the most respected tailor in the kingdom to craft the perfect suit of clothing for her sons.  She wanted the tailor to make them the finest suits of clothing as ever were. 

Said the tailor, 'Is the garment for work?  For a fine ball?  For church?'  What sort of clothes did she desire?

'What is best?' asked the mother.

'Best?' said the tailor.  'It depends.'

The mother pondered, and proud of her sons' professions, she instructed the tailor to make each son a pair of work pants and a long-sleeved shirt.

The tailor spent many months at his loom and sewing table, making five beautiful sets of clothing for the woman's sons.

When the mother returned for the clothes, and inspected them, she nearly fainted.  'Why,' she said, 'they are all the same size!  My boys are not identical.  What pattern did you use?'

The tailor replied, his pride hurt, 'You gave me no measurements, Ma'am, so I fashioned them all to fit the ideal man at the pinnacle of his prime.'

The tailor refused to alter the clothing, and the mother took the clothes home.  She passed away before having the chance to alter the clothes for each of her sons.

After her funeral, her sons found the clothes wrapped in colorful paper upon her bureau, next to her bed, with their names written on tags.

The first son opened his, and tried on the pants and shirt.  They fit him to a tee, and he beamed with gratitude.

The second son eagerly opened his gift, but when he attempted to button the pants, he could not, for they were too tight.  And the sleeves were overlong.  'Did not Mother know me at all?' he lamented, crestfallen.

The third son. who had but one leg, pulled on his pants and wept, mistaking it for an insult.  He wetted his pillow that night.

The fourth son found the clothes fit nicely, but he had no use for such coarse cloth, being accustomed to the silks of the stage.  He donated his clothes to a poor beggar he passed on his way home.

Finally, the last son opened his gift and donned the clothes, which made him, with his small frame, look ridiculous.  But he refused to be parted with the clothes, and wore them everywhere as a token of his mother's memory, even though others ridiculed him for it.

And the mother met the Great Mother in the sky, and boasted of her sons she loved so well, and of the gifts. 

The Great Mother said, 'Look, daughter, at what your gifts have wrought.'

And the mother saw, and cried out, 'This was not my desire.  I only wished to show them my love.'

The Great Mother nodded.  'Yet, for all your love, you neglected to take their measurements.  Love,' the Great Mother said, 'must be adapted to the beloved, else it become a bane.'

GERD

I've felt "off" all week in my spirit ― like I had a case of indigestion.  Frayed and refluxed.

I didn't know why, especially with the beautiful spring weather and the evening walks with my family in the park, enjoying the cherry tree blossoms and fresh air.

Last night I finally realized why I felt bad.  It dawned on me that my spiritual digestive tract was still "processing" the artificial sweeteners and dyes and perfumes that were mixed with the General Conference messages I listened to over the weekend.  (Am I developing spiritual allergies in my old age?)

   For the waters of Nimrim
   shall be desolate:
   for the hay is withered away,
   the grass faileth,
   there is no green thing.

(Isaiah 15:6)

Hay fever?  Was this the reason I was feeling inflamed and puffy?  Why my stomach was bloated and chest felt tight?  Was it because I had ingested the leaven of the Pharisees (Matt. 16:6)?  (I used to be able to handle my gluten much better.)

I wondered to myself, How do I detox from this?  How do I shake off these shadows?  I can't shower or take ipecac to purge from my mind things like "Christian kindness is not a substitute for integrity."

There was only one remedy.  I turned to our Savior's words as an antacid; I gulped down His words like a fistful of Tums.  I spent the evening and early hours this morning trying to settle my stomach with the nourishing word of God.

​O how wide the contrast between the spirit brought by the words of our Savior ― who desires to give us life more abundantly (John 10:10) ― and the spirit contained in man's precepts.

I ended up making a list of the Savior's commandments from the Gospels to re-center myself.  Afterwards, I thought, why not share my list with you?  After all, some of you may be feeling a bit "off" too, and in need of solace.

Not Chicken Wings, but Cow Wings

The Lord has wings.  Not just any wings, but "healing wings."  We read in Malachi (one of my favorite scriptures):

   Unto you that fear my name
   shall the Sun of righteousness
   arise with healing in his wings;
   and ye shall go forth,
   and grow up as calves
   of the stall.

(Malachi 4:2)

I don't think this is referring to bird wings (sorry, Buffalo Wild Wings) ― even though the Lord does compare Himself to a mother hen.  The Lord is no peacock.

In this case the "wings" appear to describe the rays of light that reach out from the sun.

Remember how, in old Christian iconography and artwork, the Lord is depicted with a crown, a golden halo with spokes radiating outwards?

The NIV translates Malachi as saying:

   For you who revere my name,
   the sun of righteousness
   will rise with healing in its rays.
   And you will go out
   and frolic like well-fed calves.

(Malachi 4:2, NIV)

The second part of the verse mentions calves.  Not steers or cows, but young cattle playing in the field under a welcoming sun with nary-a-milk-bucket in sight.

I love it!  Put down your lasso: the KJV calls us "calves of the stall."  That is such an apt metaphor.  We're not homeless, starved, lean cows awaiting the butcher block; we aren't longhorns searching for grass to eat out in the wild at night, fearful of mountain lions.

No, we're kept-calves; the Lord shelters and cares for us with straw and cattle-feed; He brushes our hide and gives us treats to eat from His hand.  Isn't it nice having a stall under His roof?

So putting it all together, this verse is saying God's arms envelope us with the warmth of the rising, morning sun (no worries about getting sunburned).  As children-calves we "frolic," playing in His presence.  I can picture Him smiling, watching us prance about.

​This is the image the scriptures paint of Jesus Christ: a Shepherd; a mother hen; the Sun of righteousness watching over us in His green pasture.  All of these things describe His nurturing, caring, and protective character.  They also capture a taste of His unique warmth, happiness, light, and safety.

Contrast that feeling with the gloom I felt listening to President Oaks brow-beat those who "disclaim" their covenants by not properly, continuously, wearing their temple garments (my lower-back is still sore from the heavy saddle and lash).

Under the sound of President Oaks' voice, I almost couldn't hear my Savior calling:

   Take my yoke upon you . . . 
   and ye shall find rest
   unto your souls.

   For my yoke is easy,
   and my burden is light.

(Matthew 11:30)

"Up On the Housetop, Reindeer Pause"

Someone asked me once who I thought my audience for Owl of the Desert was ― because I was neither "loyal enough" to the Church and its leaders to appeal to mainstream members, nor was I "critical enough" of the Church to appeal to those who had lost confidence in Joseph Smith and his legacy.

(Isn't it funny how we situate everything ― including ourselves ― viz-a-viz the Church rather than the Lord?)

I've said before my audience are the angels, even "those who are not of the world" (to borrow Nephi's phrase).  But then, I also include you in that definition. 

   Wherefore, the things
   which are pleasing
   unto the world
   I do not write,
   but the things which
   are pleasing unto God
   and unto those
   who are not of the world.

(1 Nephi 6:5)

I am not sure how I ended up here in no-man's land.  But I have found this to be one of the best places to find God, in the hinterlands.  There is freedom here, where we are fed by ravens' beak ―  freedom to not partake of the spoils of the world.  That is priceless.

   And the word of the Lord
   came unto Elijah, saying . . . 
   And it shall be that thou
   shalt drink of the brook;
   and I have commanded 
   the ravens to feed thee there.

(1 Kings 17:2, 4)

And so here we are on the housetop (gathered for a Watch Vigil), while those inside eat, drink, and make merry.  Yes, it's tempting to want to join the party, feeling their music reverberate through the floorboards.  But the Lord cautioned:

   And let him
   that is on the housetop
   not go down into the house,
   neither enter therein,
   to take any thing
   out of his house.

(Mark 13:15)

Having made it to the housetop, we might not be able to return again into the dwelling place.  But you might be wondering, What are we doing on the housetop at all?  "Did anyone bring a jacket?  It's brisk up here."  The reason we find ourselves on the housetop is because the Lord has begun to separate us from world as a peculiar people (and sadly, "world" also includes the worldly aspects of our religions).

That is why "Owl of the Desert" is such an appropriate metaphor for this ministry God has called me to:

   I am like an owl
   of the desert.
   I watch,
   and am as a sparrow
   alone
   upon the house top.

(Psalms 102:6-7)

But we are not alone.  We are never alone on the housetop, even if we are few.  Having witnessed the workings of the Lord, we become a bit like Mormon, who stood as an idle witness to the unfolding telestial tragedy of his day:

   I did even as the Lord
   commanded me;
   and I did stand
   as an idle witness
   to manifest unto the world
   the things which I saw
   and heard.

(Mormon 3:16)

The prophet Ether, too, was an Owl of the Desert in his time, and joins us on the housetop ― a nocturnal witness who ventured forth in the nighttime to record what he saw:

   They esteemed [Ether]
   as naught, and cast him out;
   and he hid himself
   in the cavity of a rock by day,
   and by night he went forth
   viewing the things
   which should come upon
   the people.

(Ether 13:13)

That is why I take courage, remembering we have one another; and we have the angels; and we have the Lord Himself (Matt. 18:20).  Even if it is depressing, at times, watching the world march towards its spiritual Cumorah.

And so I continue to write according to the whisperings of the Spirit in me, that those who come after us may know that some few waited, and watched, for their Lord's coming, like the rising of the Sun.

From the housetops.

Explanation of My Methodology

Now to my list.  At the end of the Lord's mortal life, when His soul was weighed down with grief after the Last Supper, He said:

   If ye love me,
   keep my commandments.

(John 14:15)

Yes, there's that word: "commandments."  But I don't shy away from it, not when it comes from the Lord. 

The challenge is to know which commandments Christ was talking about.  During Conference I heard a lot about obedience, about covenants, and about "Think Celestial!"  Is that what He meant?

How are we to discern the living commandments of Christ from the "commandments of men" (Matt. 15:9), which produce sterility and sadness?

Well, I was determined to find out. 

   (1)  First, I decided to limit my search to just the Gospels (and Google), to the sayings directly attributed to Christ, in order to keep things manageable.

   (2)  Second, I found that most of the Lord's "commandments" are found in the Sermon on the Mount.  But I didn't want to just repeat everything verbatim, so I combined Christ's commandments into two categories:

       a.  Commandments to "Be"

       b.  Commandments to "Do"

   (3)  This is not meant to be a checklist.  Clearly, all of the commandments fall under the purview of love (Matt. 22:37-40).

Love is grace-filled; it makes accommodation for differences, for weakness, and for failure.  These things are not one-and-done; they describe a path of discipleship.

There is no "finishing" the things on this list because we spend our whole lives evolving, developing, growing, and transforming into the Stature of Christ.  That's the fun of it!

But I think, reading over this list, we can get a sense of what is truly important to the Savior.

Enjoy!

Jesus's Top Ten Commands to "BE"

-  Be perfect
(​Matthew 5:48)

-  Be born again
(John 3:7)

-  Be at peace
(John 14:27, 16:33)

-  Be virtuous
(Matthew 5:27-30)

-  Be a servant
(Matthew 20:26-28)

-  Be harmless as a dove
(Matthew 10:16)

-  Be as wise as a serpent
(Matthew 10:16)

-  Be fearless
(Matt. 10:28)

-  Be yoked to Christ
(Matthew 11:29)

-  Be childlike
(Matthew 18:3)

Jesus's Top 10 Commandments to "DO"

-  Repent
(Matthew 4:17)

-  "Follow me"
(Matthew 4:19)

-  Ask, seek, knock
(Matthew 7:7-8)

-  Hear God's voice
(John 10:4)

-  Baptize
(Matthew 28:19)

-  Forgive
(Matthew 18:21-22)

-  ​Care for the poor
(Matt. 25:35-40)

-  Love your enemies
(Matthew 5:44)

-  Do not give offense to Caesar
(Matthew 22:21)

-  "Freely" tend to His flock
(Matt. 10:8)

[Above: the Islamic Kaaba holy site in Mecca]

Previous: Part 13: A Faith Beyond

Two Practical Solutions

General Conference just passed.  I spent some time pondering upon our predicament.  I'd like to suggest two practical solutions that I think will increase faith in the Church.

(I will give my two suggestions at the end of this post.) 

If there was a bright spot during the Conference, it was Elder Kearon's talk.  Bless him.

Perhaps the most interesting talk (at least from my perspective) was Elder Bednar's.  He taught that the Church and its leaders (and not Jesus Christ) were our "foundation."  Yikes.

Anyway, the following graphic illustrates the number of times speakers in General Conference quoted Jesus, Joseph, or President Nelson.  But who's keeping track?

Kaabas and Temples

Few things inspire me as much as the stories of men and women who gave up their lives rather than compromise their integrity as free-thinkers.  People like Joan of Arc.  Like William Tyndale.

And like Persian preacher and poet al-Hallaj, another hero of mine.  He lived around 900 A.D.  Like most mystics, he was executed for blasphemy.

It's always baffled me why society is so quick to pick up stones against the visionaries of the world.  And no stone is sharper or heavier ― and deadlier ― than dogma.

What was al-Hallaj's capital crime, you ask?  Well, he took a famous phrase from the Quran ― "God is the Truth" (Hov-al-Haq) ― and he taught the next-level of enlightenment: An-al-Haq ("I am the Truth").

If that wasn't bad enough, al-Hallaj built a mini-Kaaba in his backyard.  If you're not familiar with the Kaaba, it's the most holy site in Islam, located in Mecca.  Pilgrims travel to it from across the world.

The closest thing I can compare the Kaaba to would be the Holy of Holies in Solomon's Temple (for Jews); or the Salt Lake Temple (for Latter-day Saints).

The Kaaba is the most sacred place on earth for Muslims.  And al-Hallaj?  He built a replica in his backyard.  He told others, "Why go on pilgrimage to Mecca to find what is in your own backyard?"  Building a mini-Kabba at home was al-Hallaj's way of showing God is not found "out there" but is found inside of us.

The mullahs and governors got together and complained.  Why?  Because the pilgrims who traveled to Mecca spent money; it was big business.  The Muslim pilgrimage was too important, commercially, to allow people to find God at home.  I am not making this up (it is just a coincidence that this might sound similar to the way the LDS Church conducted studies to correlate the payment of tithing to the proximity of Temples in an area).

Anyway, for nine years al-Hallaj languished in prison while they decided what to do with him.  He was ultimately condemned to death in 922 A.D. on the charge that he wished to "destroy the Kaaba."

Does that also sound familiar?  That was the charge brought against Jesus:

   And there arose
   false witnesses
   against him, saying,
   We heard him say,
   I will destroy this temple
   that is made with hands.

(Mark 14:57-58)

So when a building or a place becomes super-central to a people's religion, one of the worst things you can do is point out that the place or building has become an idol.

In Islam, Muslims who make the hajj (pilgrimage) are required to walk around the Kaaba counter-clockwise seven times.  It's a formal ritual.  Well, al-Hallaj's accusers reported hearing him say, "The important thing is to proceed seven times around the Kaaba of one's heart."

Thousands of people gathered on the banks of the Tigris River to witness al-Hallaj's execution to trumpets blaring.  There are conflicting accounts of the manner of his death; some say he was hanged, others say he was beheaded, and others say he was burned and they scattered his ashes in the river.

The final words al-Hallaj spoke were from the Quran: 

​يَسۡتَعۡجِلُ بِهَا الَّذِيۡنَ لَا يُؤۡمِنُوۡنَ بِهَا​ ۚ وَالَّذِيۡنَ اٰمَنُوۡا مُشۡفِقُوۡنَ مِنۡهَا ۙ وَيَعۡلَمُوۡنَ اَنَّهَا الۡحَقُّ ​ ؕ اَلَاۤ اِنَّ الَّذِيۡنَ يُمَارُوۡنَ فِى السَّاعَةِ لَفِىۡ ضَلٰلٍۢ بَعِيۡدٍ‏

"Only those wish to hasten it who believe not in it: those who believe hold it in awe, and know that it is the Truth" (Quran 42:18).

​"How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria?"

The problem with men like al-Hallaj and Jesus Christ is that their living faith is disruptive.  It is discomfiting to priests who have grown accustomed to a dead faith.  It threatens the establishment.

Catholic monk Richard Rohr said:

"The [Jewish] temple had become totally aligned with King Herod, with the collecting of taxes and money, and the selling of forgiveness.

"Whenever religion gets into the business of the 'buying and selling' of God, or of requiring sacrifices to earn God’s love, we have a problem.

"Jesus knew that his religion was not taking care of the poor; in fact, it’s stealing from the poor, and making them give even the little they have to feel they are right with God.  Jesus was angry about this."

(Richard Rohr, "Jesus' Anger", February 25, 2024.)

This is why, in so many ways, Jesus was a disaster ― for His Elders Quorum President, I mean.  The leaders had no idea what to do with this, Joseph's son; here was a young man of such promise (so gifted!), and yet utterly unsuited for the priesthood ― what with all of His wild sayings and strange beliefs.

After all, it's one thing to calmly discuss Moses parting the Red Sea in Sunday School (a thousand years later) from the safety of a yeshiva, and to parse Isaiah's words in an appropriately academic setting ― but then Jesus shows up on the Sabbath and starts applying Isaiah's words to Himself, as if He were the fulfilment of prophecy (Luke 4:16-29).  The gall.

What do you do with someone who turns water-to-wine and who walks on water?  Not okay.  Sure, it's fine for Elijah to raise the widow's son from the dead, but who is this guy bringing Lazarus back to life?  "Oh no, you don't.  Such things belong in the past."
 
The fact that Jesus was cast out of the synagogue and forbidden from preaching in church is a lush irony; it demonstrates, above all else, that religions simply don’t know what to do with a LIVING God.

That's right ― religions get on so much better when God is dead, after having given His authority to men.  This is why religions prefer a silent God, one who is done speaking thank-you-very-much, so the rulers can get on with business (2 Nephi 28:5-6).
 
Not just dead Gods, but dead prophets are far less troublesome, too.  As Jesus pointed out:
 
   Woe unto you,
   scribes and Pharisees,
   hypocrites! because ye build
   the tombs of the prophets,
   and garnish the sepulchres
   of the righteous,
   And say, If we had been
   in the days of our fathers,
   we would not have been
   partakers with them
   in the blood of the prophets.
 
(Matt. 23:29-30)
 
Are we so different today?  Today, do we act like wet blankets when someone comes along with new ideas?  "Stop flinging that faith around here as if it were Moses’ staff!  No purview!"

Nobody wants to be burned by placing their hands on a hot engine that’s going somewhere.  Better to turn off the ignition and let the engine cool.  As in olden times, our institutions are not crafted to withstand the refining fire, preferring instead the cool-to-the-touch pale bone of whited sepulchers.

I like what I read in the newspaper last week from James Jones, an LDS theologian, who said:

"If you look at Matthew 25, for example, with the parable of the sheep and the goats, there is nothing in it about how often you go to church.  Instead it asks: Did you feed the hungry?  Did you give water to the thirsty?  Did you visit people in prison or in the hospital?  Did you welcome the foreigner?

​"So worship, for me, is ultimately not an act of ecclesiastical fealty but an act of right living, right relationship with the community and people around you."

("Stop Confusing Uniformity with Unity," Salt Lake Tribune, April 2, 2024)

Sodom > Jerusalem?

We tend to gloss over some of Jesus's weirder sayings, preferring the lilies of the valley and letting our light shine.  We mostly ignore the part of Christ's ministry that eviscerated the corruption of religious systems.

But it's difficult to grasp the significance of Jesus's message if we cherry-pick the faith-flattering parts.  For example, here's a whopper:

   Verily I say unto you,
   It shall be more tolerable
   for the land of Sodom
   and Gomorrah
   in the day of judgment
   than for that city.

(Matthew 10:15)

Sodom and Gomorrah?  Really?  Jesus is holding them up as examples?

   Verily I say unto you,
   It shall be more tolerable
   for the land of San Francisco
   and Rio de Janeiro
   in the day of judgment
   than for Salt Lake City.

(Matt. 10:15; Tim’s 2024 ed.)

Listen, I heard as a youngster (yes, little ones have ears) that God was going to cause California to plummet into the Pacific Ocean in a massive earthquake because of its sins.

But now I realize that if God is going to do that ― breaking California like a Kit Kat bar along the San Andreas fault as punishment for all those tie-dyed, hippie-loving, promiscuous partiers in Los Angeles ― then how much worse will it be for us!

Because if God starts shaking San Bernardino, I cannot imagine how awful His judgments will be upon those who have professed His name, beginning at His house (D&C 112:25-26).

   And thou, Capernaum,
   which art exalted
   unto heaven,
   shalt be brought down to hell:
   for if the mighty works
   which have been done in thee
   had been done in Sodom,
   it would have remained
   until this day.

   But I say unto you,
   That it shall be more tolerable
   for the land of Sodom
   in the day of judgment
   than for thee.

(Matt. 11:23-24)

​Even heathens get a shout-out (D&C 75:22).  Prostitutes receive priority seating and publicans are upgraded like VIPs (Matt. 21:31) ― while those of us flying in heaven’s economy class are stuck in the back rows measuring mint and cummin.  Aren't we the good guys?

How is that fair?
​
​Well, let me tell you something about the justice of God.  The greatest-indictment of religion that God ever gave, in my opinion, was in His Parable of the Watchtower.

Jesus described a vineyard which was leased to some farmers (the religious rulers); when the Master of the vineyard sent His servants to collect the harvest, the farmers killed the servants so they could keep the fruits themselves.

Then the Master sent His own Son, and the wicked leaseholders killed the Son, thinking that they would gain His inheritance (the vineyard), if the Master had no heir (Matt. 21:33-44).

Jesus said:

   I tell you that
   the kingdom of God
   will be taken away from you
   and given to a people 
   who will produce its fruit.  

(Matt. 21:43, NIV)

​Jesus Was a T-Rex

Just how disruptive was Christ to the religious traditions of His day?  Why did the Elders and builders reject Him and His faith?

Let's ask the money changers who were minding their business, trying to make a living at the Temple.

Jesus was unpopular because He prophesied God was going to give the Kingdom to another people.  Nobody liked the sound of that.

No, the priests simply couldn't have Jesus preaching without a permit, untethered from the reigns of their leadership, like some unlicensed hooligan.  Decorum!  Proper procedure!  Priesthood keys!

   Then answered the Pharisees
   Are ye also deceived?
 
These words were spoken by the leaders to the crowd of believers.  The Pharisees were claiming that those who followed Christ had been deceived.  The Pharisees continued:

   Have any of the rulers
   or of the Pharisees
   believed on him?

(John 7:47-48)
 
This is really rich: they were saying, "If this Christ-fellow were legit, don't you think we'd know it?  We're God's spokespeople!  Follow our example."

Challenge accepted.  So what caused the Jewish authorities to recruit folks from off-the-street to bear false witness against Christ?  What made the priests slap Jesus and spit in His face?  Why did the leaders demand that Pilate kill Jesus?  Is this the example we are to follow?

You see, the sad thing was, for all their zealousness for God, they betrayed Him.  For what?  Did they really think they did God a great service by sacrificing His Son?

Ironically, the story of the Bible shows that religious centers are, as a rule, some of worst places on earth to find a living faith.  How curious it is that religious capitals are always building shrines to the dead prophets instead of wondering why they cast the living ones out of their cities.

I make this observation to point out that we, too, are prone to treating faith as a fossil ― and religion like an archeological dig.  Forgetting, of course, that we've been called unto a living faith.

Churches have a tendency to set up stakes, cordoning-off with ropes where we can dig and how deep.  Faith becomes a fossil.  We count ourselves lucky if we catch a hint of femur among the creeds and keys.  On hands-and-knees we bow hypnotically as leaders parade a bit of metatarsal bone before our eyes.

(Am I the only one who finds it gross, the way we spend so much time fussing over coprolites?)

​And thus we see the fate of faith among the religions of this world, who deem it better to study and catalogue the remains of a dead T-Rex, like paleontologists, rather than risk a Living King barging through camp.​

Two Suggestions

A generation ago, in 1978, President N. Eldon Tanner of the First Presidency announced a new policy in which General Authority Seventies would become emeritus at the age of 70.

At that time, there had been internal discussion about whether the same practice should apply to the apostles and First Presidency, too (but you know how it goes).

Suggestion No. 1:  Emeritus Status for Apostles and Presidents at the Age of 72

The time has come for all General Authorities, including the Twelve and First Presidency, to be given a dignified and honorable emeritus status at the age of 72.

Let them return to their most important duties: being a husband, father, and grandfather to their families.

Why 72?  Well, in 3rd Nephi we're told that was the retirement age that Christ established for the Nephite Twelve.  So we've got good precedent.

   And Jesus said unto them:
   Blessed are ye
   because ye desired
   this thing of me; therefore,
   after that ye are
   seventy and two years old
   ye shall come unto me
   in my kingdom;
   and with me ye shall find rest.

(3 Nephi 28:3)

Let the Twelve find rest.

Suggestion No. 2: General Authorities Should Mind their Priesthood Duty to Preach the Gospel and Not Be Involved in Church Finances
​
While women are not given priesthood responsibility in the Church, there is no doctrinal, historical or scriptural reason preventing us from divesting the Brethren of the management of Church finances.  They have more important things to do, right?

Allow the women of the Relief Society to oversee all Church investments, holdings, budgets and expenditures.  Not just on a general level, but also at the Stake and Ward level.

Why is this important?  Well, for one thing, it is what Jesus commanded!  Christ did not call apostles to hold the purse (Judas showed what evil comes of that).

   Therefore, let no man
   among you . . .
   who are called . . . 
   unto this ministry,
   from this hour
   take purse or scrip.

(D&C 84:86)

If the men of the priesthood are to fulfill their priesthood duty, then they certainly can't become entangled in financial matters.

​The time has come for Special (and especial) Witnesses of Christ in all the world to be just that: missionaries.  That is far more important than having the Brethren bogged down in the daily administrative tasks of overseeing money.

Let's hand over the purse strings to the Relief Society, and the women of the Church can decide what sort of stipend the General Authorities deserve.

Sunday Picnic: I'll Bring the Fried Chicken

If there's one thing I know about Faith, it's that she's a social creature.

Faith shrivels in secrecy, amid buried dreams and unspoken hopes.  But she thrives among friends.  Like a picnic, Faith is meant to be shared.

​Jesus promised:

   Where two or three
   are gathered together
   in my name,
   there am I in the midst
   of them.

(Matt. 18:20)

And don't worry if you're single; you're not!  If you're reading this, then you've got me; even Abinadi had the company of Isaiah's words when he stood before Noah's priests.  Jesus had His Father abiding in Him when He faced Caiaphas.  And we possess the greatest companion of all, the Holy Ghost, able to commune with the hosts of heaven.  I can't imagine a bigger cheering-section than that.

The point I want to make is that faith is never a one-man or one-woman enterprise.  Moving mountains is a community endeavor.

Faith needs family (not talking about blood relations but our "faith-relations").  Faith is the thread that ties all of us together.

The Greek word for "church" is ecclesia, which simply means "gathering."  But be careful: there's a danger when churches are staffed with authoritarians who want to place faith in a box.  The last thing we want to do is "institutionalize" Faith, prescribing how she is supposed to look and talk and walk.

Faith does not belong in a Finishing School; she is not a debutante.  She resists a schoolmarm.

Imagine showing up to the picnic with your homemade Mac-n-Cheese, and being told, "That's not right; you didn't use any Gruyère cheese!  It doesn't meet our standards.  We run a very nice picnic around here.  Throw it away."

And so we are left with a conundrum: Faith needs community but not necessarily institutions; churches can as easily thwart our faith as inspire it.

A Clear and Present Danger

I would argue the two greatest threats to a "living" faith are:

   (1) Institutionalization &
   (2) Ideology

Did you notice "sin" didn't make my list?  I don't think faith is threatened by sin at all.  The Gospels show how easily Christ can take care of that (see Luke 7:36-50, for example).

You see, sin and disbelief are chump change compared to the heavy-lift of freeing our faith from institutional and ideological bondage.

Lucky for us, the Lord is the Deliverer.  If He can conquer Pharaoh and crush Egypt's oppression of Israel, I think He can deliver our faith from the brick-making captivity of false traditions, indoctrination, and spurious historical claims.

This is why I am inspired by the example of Saul (Paul) ― who was, at one point, a Pharisee-par-excellence ― and yet, despite his background and predilections, was able to leave that all behind when he encountered Christ on the Road to Damascus.

No matter where we're coming from or where we're going, Christ will meet us along the way.  (May we all be so fortunate as to have God send us someone like Ananias to heal our blindness.  Acts 9:17-18).

So the great challenge to our faith are all these marionette strings we've attached to it: the religious, political, and cultural attachments and affiliations that clutter our faith.

Cutting those strings in favor of Christ's word is the purpose of this post (and the next one, stay tuned).

God's word will liberate us from the shadow of mortal precepts and prejudices ― and by so doing, reveal unto us a more excellent way.

New Olympic Sport: Institutional Hurdles

​If you heard news that your neighbor had been "institutionalized," what comes to mind?  Does it conjure to your imagination chlorine-soaked hallways and sedated patients?

Likewise, what happens to Faith when we "institutionalize" her?  This is Babylon's great masterstroke: to remove faith from the individual and reposit her in an "institution" instead.

Can we see how deleterious it is to our faith when we switch from having faith in each other to trusting in an institution?

After all, institutions are not tangible, living things.  They are constructs; they are corporate fictions.  Left unchecked, these soulless entities can be used by the devil as stumbling blocks (looking at you, Great and Abominable Church).

Consider the Middle Ages, when Catholic priests jealously guarded their "purview" to the Latin Bible so common folk couldn't access the word of God except through them.

Nowadays, we could replace "Bible" with any number of other things (such as "priesthood keys") and arrive at the same result.  Isn't it funny how God wants to endow us with power from on high (D&C 38:38), but we are instructed by leaders to stay in our lane and defer to their authority?  That is the opposite of individual empowerment.  Instead of looking to "on high" we begin to turn to the institution and those who are "high ups."

But then spiritual seditionist William Tyndale came along in 1526 and did the unthinkable: he translated the Bible into modern English.

We regard Tyndale as a hero today.  But not the Church, not back then.  How did the Church react?  Did they commend Tyndale for his desire to ennoble the laity and to spread the authority of God's word as wide as possible?

Nope.  The Church declared him a heretic and burned him at the stake outside of Brussels in 1536.

Plough-boys (or in my case, Dough-boys)

My favorite quote of Tyndale was when he said to one of his accusers, "I will cause a boy that driveth the plough to know more of the Scripture than thou dost."

That quote reminds me of the time evangelical preacher Nancy Towle said to Joseph Smith, "Are you not ashamed of such pretension?  You, who are no more than an ignorant plough-boy!"  To which Joseph replied, "The gift has returned back again, as in former times, to illiterate fisherman."  (Nancy Towle, Vicissitudes Illustrated, Portsmouth, NH: 1833, 156-157).

Our faith needs fewer aristocratic pretensions; we need more plough-boys.  Because Management does not always have Labor's interests at heart. 

As Joseph Smith said, "I love that man better who swears a stream as long as my arm yet deals justice to his neighbors and mercifully deals his substance to the poor, than the smooth-faced hypocrite.  I do not want you to think that I’m very righteous, for I am not. There was one good man, and his name was Jesus." (Joseph Smith, Documentary History of the Church, 5:401)

You see, the spirit of the early Restoration was quite egalitarian.  The principles of liberty (that we commonly associate with the American Revolution) found their way into the Restoration's early roots.  And for good cause: the Lord was decidedly committed to the democratization of authority among His children at the beginning of this dispensation:
 
   That every man [and woman]
   might speak in the name
   of God the Lord,
   even the Savior of the world;
   that faith might increase
   in earth.

(D&C 1:20-21)

Did you notice that last part?  Does faith increase or decrease by being constricted to an oligarchy of priests?  How does faith fare under their pyramidic-purview?

And so we have drifted from the original constitution of the Restoration as revealed in 1831.  I understand the reasons, I think, for why we scrapped the Lord's blueprints for the Restoration and refashioned the Church into the image of the world ― reasons that were very practical and exigent at the time (it is hard to remain idealists in the company of the John C. Bennetts and William McLellins of the world).

Bit-by-bit, we sacrificed our spiritual independence through the fires of Missouri and during the faithlessness of Kirtland (looking at you Safety Society).  We saw faith's dream become a nightmare in Nauvoo.  In the Territory we doubled-down, betting our faith on Plural Marriage and big business.

She remains fettered still.  Here we are, almost 200 years later, witnesses to the fact that faith is an unfortunate casualty of the war men wage in the Church for authority, gain and praise ― even those willing to trample over the word of God in their zeal to climb to the top.

   And it shall come to pass
   in the last days,
   that the mountain
   of the Lord’s house
   shall be established
   in the top of the mountains.

(Isaiah 2:2)

In the ultimate irony, the history of this dispensation has been the story of a people in search of the Mountain of the Lord ― not to obtain God's treasures, but to mine the mountain for its gold and silver.

The Test of Faith

​To understand the gravity of the situation, one need only look at how the Church has tied Faith to Tithing.  And Tithing to the Temple.  Giving money to the Church has become one of the main indicators of a member's "worthiness."  How did money ― and not Christ ― become the sign of our faithfulness?

The Church's messaging on Tithing sounds hollow against the backdrop of its wealth.  The Church is financially self-sustaining and has no need to devour the widow's mite.  It reminds me of the Savior's words to the Pharisees: "They are full of extortion and excess" (Matt. 23:25).

In fact, the Church's emphasis on Tithing during a time of plenty (when it has over $200 billion in investments and real estate holdings) proves the Savior's adage, "Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also" (Matt. 6:21).

From the Church's website, "What is Tithing?", we're told:  "Paying tithing demonstrates obedience and love and helps strengthen our faith in God."

​I Googled "Tithing" and guess what came up?  37 million search results, and guess who's on top?

Why have we made ​Tithing paramount?  Does it show we've figured out, like Nehor, how to use the Lord-for-lucre?

A reddit user wrote, "One time while my wife and I were going through financial struggles after losing one of my two jobs, the Bishop did a tally of our expenses.  After seeing that our car payment was the same as tithing, he told us to get rid of our car and start paying tithing then invest in a bus pass."

This reminded me of a time my Bishop told me that if I had to choose between paying tithing or putting food on the table for my family, to pay tithing.  You read that correctly.  He wasn't entirely heartless, though, saying if I paid tithing he would authorize a food order at the Bishop's Storehouse for groceries.

The scriptures have a name for this.  It is greed.  Not faith.  They call it extortion, not righteousness.  Like the ancient Israelites who melted their gold earrings and bangles for Aaron's Golden Calf, we continue to use religion to leverage God's blessings by telling people that if they want to be blessed, they better pay up.

The church has now grown so wealthy it has become a source of pride for many members.  The Church recently purchased the Kirtland Temple from the Community of Christ, and I saw countless posts (and boasts) about it on social media.

Nathan's words to David came to mind:

There were two men in one city; the one rich, and the other poor.  The rich man had exceeding many flocks and herds.

But the poor man had nothing, save one little ewe lamb, which he had bought and nourished up: and it grew up together with him, and with his children; it did eat of his own meat, and drank of his own cup, and lay in his bosom, and was unto him as a daughter.

And the rich man took the poor man's lamb, and dressed it for a wayfaring man that was come to him.

And David's anger was greatly kindled against the man; and he said to Nathan, As the Lord liveth, the man that hath done this thing shall surely die because he did this thing, and because he had no pity.

And Nathan said to David, Thou art the man.

(2 Samuel 12:1-7)

A Renewed Church?

The promise of the Restoration remains unrealized; can it be salvaged?

Ask yourself, how is Faith faring under the knife of spiritual lobotomists who obtained their degrees to practice medicine from Mammon?

I fear Faith has gone Code Blue.  How do we know?  By the scarcity of miracles (Mormon 9:15).

We need more William Tyndales who will break Rome's grip.  And as they say, you can't make an omelet without breaking a few Fabergé eggs.

The first "egg" we need to crack is figuring out what "the Church" actually is.

Fascinatingly, the Lord defines his "Church" in non-institutional terms.  He said to the Nephites after His resurrection:

   As I have prayed among you
   even so shall ye pray
   in my church, among my people
   [okay, watch for His definition:]
   who do (1) repent and are
   (2) baptized in my name."

(3 Nephi 18:16)

We see this again in D&C 10, where the Lord makes it bluntly clear who "belongs" to His church (and it has nothing to do with Tithing):

   Behold, this is my doctrine―
   Whomsoever (1) repententh
   and (2) cometh unto me,
   the same is my church.

   Whosoever declareth
   more or less than this,
   the same is not of me
   but is against me;
   therefore he is not
   of my church.

(D&C 10:67)

Lehi was a good example of this.  In Jerusalem there was an established church organization with priests; there was a law and temple.  Jerusalem's institutions were firmly rooted.

But then Lehi flees the wickedness of Jerusalem and does something completely crazy: he builds a makeshift altar out of rocks and (here it comes) offers sacrifices and burnt-offerings upon it.  This was outside-of-Jerusalem (a big no-no), beyond-the-walls-of-the-temple.  What was he thinking?  And just to make matters worse, Lehi wasn't even a Levite!

Lehi is proof that the Lord is not limited by location or institutions, legalistic texts or liturgies.  Faith finds a way.  God's children, His people ― His Church ― are those who repent and come unto Him, no matter their stripe.

In 3 Nephi 9, during the midst of the Nephite destruction when the voice spoke in the darkness to the survivors, what do you think God would say at their most vulnerable, heart-broken moment?

   Whoso (1) repenteth
   and (2) cometh unto me
   as a little child,
   him will I receive,
   for such is the kingdom of God.

(3 Nephi 9:22)

The take-away?  Let's stop equating the kingdom of God with the institutional church.  They are not the same.

Boston Tea Party Time?  For Churches?

The bigger lesson I think we should learn from all this is to stop over-complicating things.  We bleed faith dry with a thousand paper-cuts and concerns, unnecessarily (such as the current tempest-in-a-teapot over the wearing of garments and yoga pants, thanks to a General Authority's recent chastisement of women in California; I wish I were kidding.)

Now, some of you may think I am being too hard on institutions; we can't expect them to be perfect.  And I admit organizations can accomplish many wonderful, good things.  But consider: how important is faith?  Are we willing to allow our faith in Christ to become tainted, mixed with the "pollutions" of this world (Mormon 8:38)?

Similarly, an objection I hear from time-to-time from my family goes something like: "Tim, stop being so negative towards religion; stop criticizing the Church.  Pay your stamp tax like a good British boy.  So King George isn’t perfect?  Get over it.  You can still lead a fulfilling life under the Crown.  Westminster Abbey is so beautiful!  Just keep the commandments and leave the rest in God’s hand."

I would respond:

"I am a sheep not a serf; I need no sheriff when I have a Shepherd."  Vive la France!

Clark Burt explained:
  
"Someone who is repenting [is] leaving behind their traditional religion, their old church life, and are turning and coming unto Christ to be 'of His church.'  They are leaving the system of justification by their works.  It does not mean that they do not stay involved and attend church and activities, nor does it mean that they do stay involved, but it does mean that they will never see the organized church as they once did." (Clark Burt, "Repentance: Only Those Who Repent Are of My Church", posted January 21, 2024, Given by the Finger of God.)

Look, maybe I care too much about the politics of Nottingham.  But in the end I am not worried.  Despite all the grift, I know the rightful King will set things in order when He returns (D&C 85:7).