Celebrating Five Years of Owl of the Desert: Feeling Grateful, Looking Ahead

Five Years!

Recently I celebrated my birthday and my teenage daughter gave me a handmade birthday card that said, in bold purple marker:

"Congrats!  You're not dead yet!"

That says it all.  I'm not dead!  What can top being alive?  Carpe diem.  I have such dreams for my next chapter.

As we celebrate five years of Owl of the Desert, I thank God for being alive, at this particular time in history, on this journey with you. The horizon holds untold wonders (D&C 133:45).

Owl of the Desert has been my love song to God (Alma 5:26).  Through it I have been blessed to connect with you, my spiritual family, for whom I am eternally grateful.

I feel to exclaim as Ammon, "My heart is brim with joy" (Alma 26:11).  It makes me emotional ― as when Jesus declared His joy was full, and wept (3 Ne. 17:20-21).

Miracles have led us here.  I've learned many lessons over the past five years.  I am not the same man I was when I began blogging.

As Heraclitus said, "No man ever steps in the same river twice: for it's not the same water and he's not the same man."

I could not be the man I am without the love of my family and friends.  I want to take a moment and express my thanks to my wife and children, who in the lottery before this life must have drawn the short-straw to be tasked with rounding my rough edges and tolerating my flights of fancy.  You are Godsent.

Also my thanks to my spiritual mentor and brother, Clark Burt, whose wisdom and advice have kept me grounded while I have been prone to wander in the clouds of God's mysteries.  Bless you and Annie, now and forever.

And to my parents, for gifting me with the heritage of water and earth.  I bear the chromosomes of Christ because of you.  It is an honor to be your son and I will remember your goodness in all the worlds to come.

And finally, thank you, my dear parliament of Owls, who have kept watch with me through the night, and have sat with me upon the rooftops to witness the rising sun: I love you.

   The best is yet to come.

Looking Back: How Far We've Come
​
I was cooking dinner Sunday night (a little Mexican feast of tamales and rice and refried beans) when my 11-year old, who was keeping me company in the kitchen, all of the sudden began quoting from my poem Sign.

                     You keep
    the flock in the thrall
    of apricot authority

I looked up from the cutting board, confused.  What was going on?

            gathered to barns
    locked with priestly seal,
    ensnaring little lambs

My son was reading from his iPod (I didn't know he knew how to look up Owl of the Desert).  But there he was, on the kitchen stool, reading words I wrote years ago.

               fleecing them
    with tarnished shears
    your velvet robes
    cannot conceal

I laughed.  "Do you know what that means?" I asked.

He shook his head.  "No idea."

By then his brother, my teenage son, had wandered into the kitchen in search of a snack and joined us.  I put down my knife.  "Read the last part.  I often put the point of my poems at the end."

He scrolled down, and read Alma's words to Korihor (but really to us):

   I bear no purse, carry no scrip:
   I hold sacred the sign of my apostleship.

   With mine own hands
   I have labored
   for my support
   as God commands.

​​      According to the Holy Order
      to which I am called
      I give you this sign:

          As high priest
          I refused to take
          so much as a single
          senine.

"A 'senine' is money," I explained as he finished reading out loud.  "It's like Alma was saying, 'I've never taken so much as a penny for my service to God.'  It's about priestcraft.  Do you know what that is?"

   *****

Owl of the Desert has evolved over the years.  In the early days I was primarily concerned with contrasting the Church's policies with the scriptures.  I spent a lot of time on topics like priestcraft and authority and tithing, highlighting how the Church had stumbled (Rom. 9:33).

But you may have noticed I don't talk about the Church as much anymore.  Or Mammon or prophet-worship ― or a dozen other things that are still issues, sure ― but do I really need to beat a dead horse?

Along the way, I arrived at a point where, having said what needed saying (at least by me), I found myself drawn toward things of greater consequence, like exploring the mysteries of God, in whose light the chipped nail polish besmirching the Church's bedsheets pales into insignificance.  

And don't worry!  Everything I have written remains available for anyone who is interested, who wishes to read from the beginning and see the good, the bad, and the ugly (referring to myself).

I shall not go back and edit what I have written, because it captures a moment in time, a point in my path, and stands as a record of both my inspiration and imperfection (Ether 12:23).

I am sorry if I offended anyone while finding my sea legs, if my words proved divisive rather than discerning.  At times I was angry and hurt; other times I was heartbroken and depressed.  But mostly, I was hopeful.

For the common thread in everything I have written, no matter the subject, has always been this: faith, hope, and (especially) love.

Fool Me Once
​
The ancient Zen master Zhaozhou (778 A.D. - 897 A.D., known as Joshu in Japanese) had a great sense of humor (a sign of intelligence, I am told).

A story tells of a monk who asked Master Zhaozhou, "What is an imbecile?"

Zhaozhou said, "I’m not as good as you."

The monk said defensively, "I’m not trying to be anything" (for in Buddhism one must not become attached to identity). 

Zhaozhou replied, "Then why are you being an imbecile?"
 
   *****

Paul said:

   We are fools
   for Christ's sake.

(1 Cor. 4:10)

I am happy to be a court jester in Christ's kingdom, for in the world we see all around us "men's hearts failing them for fear" (Luke 21:26).

I have tried to counteract the fear by whispering hope into the shadows.  I hope some of what I've written over the years has made you smile.

Everywhere we turn there is such heaviness.  We wipe our foreheads in the sweltering heat of the times and seasons.  But we mustn't let our hearts succumb to heatstroke.

This is not a dry heat, either, we're experiencing, but a spiritual humidity coming from "the powers of heaven be[ing] shaken" (Luke 21:26).  And this is merely a preamble to what we'll endure when the Lord sets His hand to humble the nations.

Owls, let's please not lose our nerve and humor: not when the sun darkens and the moon withholds her light, her scarred cheeks blushing red at the sight of what the world has become (Rev. 6:12).

If there's one thing the world needs right now, it is for those bearing Christ's light to lighten the mood.

Faith's Flower

"Divine invitations are usually delivered by trouble."

   ― Sufi saying

The spiritual awakening we're witnessing in the Church is happening across the world, in every religion.  We are not unique; these seismic waves ripple everywhere.  We are feeling the effect of the Lord's hand on the plough.

The Lord is gathering laborers from among every people, kindred, and clime: from the islands of the sea to the mountains to the valleys: the world is waking up (even as the powers of darkness combine).
 
I recently read an interview of a Muslim Sufi, Shaykh Burhanuddin, who said, "Especially in the latest years, there is definitely an increase in awakening going on."  In Islam.

"If you have seen the divine power, you know, you have no doubts that everything can happen.  So I would never take hope away from people, but I can say it is urgent, and this is why we are doing what we are doing.  And I'm the smallest particle, you know, but I have to try to do the work, no?"

The Shaykh's words remind me of the Lord's call:
   
   If ye have desires to serve God
   ye are called to the work;

   For behold the field is white
   already to harvest.

(D&C 4:3-4)

The harvest will not happen along denominational lines.  To the angels it makes little difference what religion we claim, but only if our hearts are pure (D&C 97:21).

But make no mistake: the harvest is coming.

We determine, though, the shape the sickle takes (D&C 4:4).  This was implied in the revelation Joseph Smith received in 1831 (now D&C 39) about the coming judgment, which changes how I view things.

   The people in Ohio
   call upon me in much faith,
   thinking I will stay my hand
   in judgment upon the nations,
   but I cannot deny my word.
 
(D&C 39:16)

From this verse, it seems like the future if set: the judgment is inevitable because God "cannot deny [His] word."

But wait: has God given His last and final word?  No, for His words "never cease" (Moses 1:4).

And just because God "has spoken one word, ye need not suppose that [He] cannot speak another; for my work is not yet finished" (2 Nephi 29:9).

Look at what the Lord teaches us about the future in what He says next in D&C 39:

   Lay to with your might
   and call faithful laborers
   into my vineyard,
   that it may be pruned
   for the last time.
 
   Inasmuch as they do repent
   and receive the fulness
   of my gospel,
   and become sanctified,
   I WILL STAY MY HAND (!)
   IN JUDGMENT.

(D&C 39:17-18)

The harvest will come, but the road getting there is not predetermined.  The future is always in flux.

Faith, you see, has power to move the mountains of what is to come.

Where We're Headed
​
"Jesus was not an exception to humanity but was the revelation of what humanity is meant to become."

    ― Doug Scott
 
​If you're wondering where I'm headed, personally (and as a result, where my writings will be taking us), the answer is simple: to Christ.

Perhaps not the Christ we expect ― not the Christ of our creeds and false traditions ― but to the living Christ, who is even more wonderful than we can imagine.

​Over the past year you may have sensed a change in my tone and focus in the Approaching Zion series.

In July 2024 I alluded to this change in Approaching Zion: Pure in Heart, when I wrote:

"There is a whole world I have yet to explore.

"The Lord popped my prideful bubble with a pinprick of His Spirit as I contemplated my vast ignorance.  I imagined the vaulted libraries of heaven for which I haven't even been issued a library card yet.

"Zion is so much more than what we have imagined in our Sunday School classes.  Before us lies an infinite University, the likes of which we cannot fathom; there are countless tomes of Creation's courses that lie unopened at our feet.  There are Everest-truths our finite minds have yet to conceive, standing as-we-are at the base camp, near the bottom, looking up at the summit shrouded in the mystery of the Lord's day-cloud.

"How long it will take us to absorb it all, I cannot say; had we ten lifetimes to learn about this earth, it would be but a drop in the ocean.  But I can't wait to gaze beyond the horizon of our faith and witness the wonders of God hidden from the world in Christ Jesus."

​Since that time, I have received my Library Card.  My spiritual education under the Lord's tutelage has taken me in some surprising directions.

I don't speak often about my personal spiritual experiences with the Lord because everyone's encounter with God is unique; I don't want to prejudice anyone or ruin Christ's surprise for you.

I think it's regrettable the Church has given mythical status to Joseph Smith's experiences with the Lord.  I think we often misunderstand the nature of Joseph's experiences, having a eulogized narrative that makes us look beyond the mark, expecting God to treat us as if we were all nineteenth-century farm boys.

God is not found in someone else's experiences.  God can only be found and known through our personal walk with Him.

Whether we find God on the road to Emmaus, or maybe it's on the road to Damascus ― or if we're lucky, to find Him on the road to Jericho (Luke 10:30) ― but wherever we are, on whatever road we travel, at whatever stage we find ourselves, He walks beside us!  Even now, if only we have eyes to see it.

The cosmos is "ensouled."  Just as our spirit mediates between the divine light of Christ and our mind and body (creating a soul) (D&C 88:15), so too does the universe itself express the soul of God.

Sorry if I sound like a broken record, but I have to keep shouting from the rooftops the good news!  Everyone seems to be chasing God as if He were out there, in a pillar of fire or at Father Whitmer's Cabin, or behind special rites, or somewhere "else."  But He is here!  He is within you, and is part of you, and you Him (D&C 88:50). 
 
By this I mean, the soul of God mediates between eternal forms and physical processes.  These forms and processes are creative, and therefore the way God reaches out to you is uniquely based on you.

People in the Church often talk about spiritual milestones which become millstones if they cause us to miss the mark, which is, finding Christ "in all things" (D&C 88:41).

French Jesuit priest Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (1881-1955) pointed us towards a Christ greater than our Churches, grander than our faith, purer than the doctrines of men.

Teilhard taught that Christ was not just the Creator of the universe, but that Christ was being created by the universe as it evolves.

In other words, the Body of Christ is being co-created with us.  Just as God created us, so too do we participate in the creation of God by becoming part of Him (how else do we explain the Godhead?).

Gird your loins, my friends, for the future is coming faster than we think.  I have faith in the future because I have faith in the Living God.

One of the paradoxes I have learned is that, just as we come to know our true nature through God, so too do we glorify God by God knowing Himself through us.

I leave you with my love in the light of the God of dawn, of first light, of hope found with the rising of the morning Sun.

Let us carry this light into the darkness of days we call 'mortality' so others may feel the warmth upon their cheeks.

Mine Testimony
a poem

​Mine Lamb
mine Advocate I am 
your lamb smiling
Child mine singing Son 
sweet Ahman come joyfully

Tensile your name
Shepherd sound 
carrying our secret 
water rushing
between us unspoken 
mine name
Brokenness
I AM
sorry 
mine Alone
Comforter Newlyborn 

     swaddle me 
     in mine Eyes.