The Personal Essay

Eugene England commented on the value of the personal essay in the foreword of a book of his own essays:

Ten years ago I became interested in the personal essay as a separate art form. I had already been writing personal essays for ten years and had published others’ essays in Dialogue without thinking much about the particular literary and religious strengths of the form. But in studying Mormon literature of the nineteenth century and then analyzing what many Mormon writers of my generation were doing that might be part of a recognizable literary tradition, I became convinced, as I wrote in a review of the first anthology of Mormon literature, that the Mormon heritage “shows to best advantage in various forms of personal witness to faith and experience, genres in which the truth of actual living, of quite direct confession, is at least as important as aesthetic or metaphorical truth, [such as] diaries, letters, sermons, lyric poetry,… autobiography,… and increasingly, the personal essay” (BYU Studies, Spring 1975). Since that time the Mormon personal essay has indeed increased in availability and conscious quality.

This collection is an attempt to show by example what the resources of the personal essay can be in a Mormon’s search for self and community. (Dialogues with Myself)

I definitely have found a very strong sense of self and community through reading articles and blog posts online as well as essays in books. (For example, England's book referenced above. [so good!]) It's part of why belonging to a faith community is valuable (and how "folk doctrines" can actually be a positive thing!)

There is a lot of power in the personal essay -- it's part of why I write about things here actually; I have been blessed to read the thoughts and testimonies of others and had the spirit witness to me of the truth and power in their expressions of their thoughts and experiences -- and I hope to pay it forward in the same way. It's good to be reminded that there is a community of fellow-saints out there in the world struggling and staying faithful as I am.

So, all that being said, there's a collection of essays called Why I Stay: The Challenges of Discipleship for Contemporary Mormons (editor: Robert A. Rees) that I stumbled across randomly while perusing some LDS articles online during stake conference (whoops!) a few weeks ago. The first essay was available to read in the free kindle sample and I loved it -- so I bought the whole book! I wish I had the self-discipline to write a little piece about every essay, because each one is unique and wonderful... but since I don't, I'll just say this: they all had many similarities, as we face many of the same challenges as Mormons in our current society, but they each also had their own unique tone and personality. Each resonated with me in it's own individual way.

I HIGHLY RECOMMEND THIS BOOK AND EVERY ESSAY IN IT.

We all have our different considerations for "why I stay"(or don't stay) and I think how we answer that question is always changing. This collection of essays does beautiful work as a resource in a Mormon's "search for self and community."

Anyhow, like I always tell my students -- to be persuasive, don't just TELL... you need to SHOW. So in order to show, I am going try and do at least one post about one essay soon (it not only resonated with me, but taught me a life-changing concept and included a beautiful hopeful prayer for the future.) Stay tuned!

having a cause

“A quiet secluded life in the country, with the possibility of being useful to people to whom it is easy to do good, and who are not accustomed to have it done to them; then work which one hopes may be of some use; then rest, nature, books, music, love for one's neighbor — such is my idea of happiness.”
― Leo Tolstoy Family Happiness

Today my roommate and I saw a very interesting documentary. This post isn't the place to get into what it was about, but while we were talking about the film at lunch we discovered there was one line in it that jumped out at us both. It more or less stated that whatever you think is the most important cause in the world right now is the one you should be working at (and if you aren't, why not?!) It struck us both because, while we both have strong feelings and opinions on many world and societal issues, there isn't really one grand cause in particular that we feel particularly well-suited to make much of a difference in (based on our individual abilities and influence). I don't mean this to sound defeatist. I also don't want to downplay the AMAZING work being done by incredible civic leaders and inspired activists, many of whom start out as unqualified as I am, or the need to be involved in larger community causes. I just want to explain how the limit to my influence, which limits what I am able to actually DO, actually inspires me -- but in a very different direction.

I know it goes against the assurance of the american dream that anyone can do anything they work hard for. I know it goes against the idealistic motto that with God all things are possible. It's not that I don't see the reasoning behind these ideas and agree with them to a degree -- it's just that I'm also a bit of a realist and when it all comes down to it, I understand the limits of my capacities, my context, and that God's will often involves me operating within these constraints. And I don't see this as a bad thing.

Bigger causes often seem more important than those that are on limited and more intimate scale. But but small in scale doesn't equal small in influence.

I started of this post with that quote by Tolstoy not just because it is also MY "idea of happiness"* but because it is also my idea of my cause -- of my purpose and source of satisfaction (which ultimately contributes to happiness). I don't have the ethos to affect change on a grand scale. I do have a little bit of credibility however with a few close friends and my immediate family. These are the ones I can influence for good in a just cause. Within my small circle is good I can do, unique to my abilities and the particular conditions of the situation. There is useful work that doesn't change the world at large but does affect the world of those around me. There is love to be nurtured with individuals for whom that love can be life-shaping.

I have come to the realization that limits are as God-given as capacities. Mine have placed me in a unique position to understand the beauty and meaning in serving the causes found within "a quiet secluded life" and of the special focus on intimate associations it affords.

I will always want to find ways to make a difference in the bigger causes that I care about and I hope I can find and do them. But, I also hope to never let that diminish meaning I find the modest work I do to make a difference to those few God has placed within my sphere.







*as a side note: that quote really does encapsulate perfectly my IDEAL of happiness. Beauty, culture, service, work, love -- all the BEST of this life. I feel I could devote a whole post just to expounding on how how the truth of Tolstoy's words resonates with me!

the parable of the talents

I was discussing Matthew 25:14-30 (about the parable of the talents) with my family and we all sorta realized how little we really understood this parable -- that we had always just accepted the conventional explanations and perhaps missed its secrets for so many years… 

Consider the following questions my brother raised:

In modern english, the word "talent" has come to refer exclusively to any kind of mental endowment, aptitude, or physical ability. From the perspective of those hearing the parable (and the author of the gospel), a talent was a measurement of money. Has the modern understanding of the parable been based exclusively on the contemporary definition of the word "talent"? Perhaps restricting the parable's definition to modern english's definition of the word "talent" is too restrictive? But not including that definition in the parable's interpretation could be too exclusive as well no? Is there something else here?  

The description of the "lord" in the parable is interesting and I'm not sure what to make of it if it's supposed to be a parallel to God. The man with a single talent described his lord thus: "I knew thee that thou art an hard man, reaping where thou hast not sown, and gathering where thou hast not strewed". This seems to indicate the master enriches himself at the cost of others. The master himself admits: "thou knewest that I reap where I sowed not, and gather where I have not strewed". So he is admitting he is known to be ruthless and rapacious in business and expects the servant to have acted similarly? That doesn't seem to be a very apt description of who God is … at least not to me. 

Lastly, the amounts distributed to the slaves, at least from what I've read, are actually very large. Supposedly, a talent was equivalent to about 6,000 denarii, a denarii being equal to a day's wage for a common laborer. Thus, one talent, would be about twenty years worth of wages (no small amount). Five talents, as given to another one of the servants, would be about 100 years worth of wages. Why then does the Lord say, "Well done, thou good and faithful aservant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things"? In my mind, another way of saying this would be "you've been faithful over a little, I'll put you in charge of a lot" even though one talent is not "a little".

In consideration of these questions my dad sent us all a link to one man's interpretation of the parable -- which aptly answers these questions. I strongly urge you to read and reread this analysis of the parable of the talents. It is so beautiful and so profound, just as Jesus intended I think.

http://www.raystedman.org/new-testament/matthew/living-dangerously ***

***p.s. To me this understanding of the parable is born out well with the verse (similar to the one in Matthew) in D&C 82:3

 For of him unto whom much is given much is required; and he who sins against the greater light shall receive the greater condemnation.

I always read this verse as referring to more than just talents/blessings we are given, so sinning "against the greater light" does not mean not failing to use talents/abilities, it is failing to live up to what you know to be God's will for your life -- refusing to see what has been illuminated for you, or seeing it and rejecting it. Some of us have a clearer understanding/more illumination, and so when we fail to live accordingly -- when we wrap ourselves up "with hobbies and little luxuries" and selfishness  as C.S. Lewis put it -- we fail just the way the author described in the analysis of the parable.  

oppositions in the church

I wrote the following as a post script to my answer to a question posed to the Ask Angela column (go read the full response if ya like).
WHY OPPOSITIONS IN THE CHURCH ARE PRODUCTIVE : They push us toward a new kind of being.

Eugene England explained it this way: "In the life of the true Church, there are constant opportunities for all to serve, especially to learn to serve people we would not nor­mally choose to serve—or possibly even associate with—and thus opportunities to learn to love unconditionally. There is constant encouragement, even pressure, to be “active”: to have a calling” and thus to have to grapple with relationships and management, with other peoples ideas and wishes, their feel­ings and failures; to attend classes and meetings and to have to listen to other people’s sometimes misinformed or prejudiced notions and to have to make some constructive response; to have leaders and occasionally to be hurt by their weakness and blindness, even unrighteous dominion; and then to be made a leader and find that you, too, with all the best intentions, can be weak and blind and unrighteous. Church involvement teaches us compassion and patience as well as courage and dis­cipline. It makes us responsible for the personal and marital, physical, and spiritual welfare of people we may not already love (or may even heartily dislike), and thus we learn to love them. It stretches and challenges us, though disappointed and exasperated, in ways we would not otherwise choose to be— and thus gives us a chance to be made better than we might choose to be, but ultimately need and want to be. ( http://www.eugeneengland.org/why-the-church-is-as-true-as-the-gospel )

I love that explanation because it conveys that it is also as much my responsibility to love and be patient with those who feel there is no place for "disruptive feminists," as it is their responsibility to accept and love "disruptive feminists." We are all a part of the "school of love" of belonging to a church full of people different from us.

Also, it's funny because we (my roommates and I) were just talking yesterday about how we have had to very quickly come to terms with the fact that, to be who we are and to say the things that we say, to speak out against what we view as ignorance and misunderstanding, means accepting the consequences... that we may create "contention" and be disliked. In a small way, it feels like how the prophets were stoned for saying what was hard for those around them to hear.

And in the midst of all of this we are to maintain a Christlike love for those who don't understand us and who "stone" us. It's good to be reminded that that they have a place in the body of Christ, the same as me.

love's greatest gift

I know a man who’s smart, kind, generous, and overall the sort of person you’d call first if you got into any kind of trouble. Unfortunately, he is also the worst story/joke/anecdote teller I have ever met. Worse, for some mysterious reason he delights in telling stories that have no point, jokes that aren’t funny, tedious anecdotes that meander forever and then just end. Like a highway in the middle of nowhere that abruptly stops because the builders ran out of money. Unfortunately this man enjoys holding the floor at parties and gatherings. Inevitably when he sees a chance, he jumps right into the fray with a “I heard a great joke—” or “The strangest thing happened to me this morning—” But his joke is never great and what happened to him that morning turns out to be a long and winding road to verbal nowhere. This man’s wife died recently and only now did I realize he lost among other things, his greatest audience. One of the endearing things about love is how it blinds us to certain obvious faults in our partners, despite the fact everyone else sees them. Once at a large party this man was telling a story. His wife was listening with a big smile and her full attention beaming 100 watts right at him. If you scanned the rest of the room you saw a lot of glazed eyes and looks of impatience. But not her. To her eyes, her husband had *grandezza*, the great Italian word that connotes not only greatness, but larger-than-lifeness. When he spoke, no one listened like she did, no matter what he was saying. And that might have been her greatest gift of all to him. — Jonathan Carroll

(I think I would go so far as to say that maybe it isn't a "blindness" to the faults of those we love -- but that because we love them that we can fully see them -- see past faults that would obstruct our vision -- and love them for who they truly are.)

The Paradox of Guilt

The Paradox of Guilt

I've been thinking lately about the complex nature of guilt. In rudimentary lessons on sin we are taught that it is one of the basic required steps of repentance to feel sorrow for what we have done; to feel guilt.

It is, in fact, in our moral nature to feel this. Eugene England quotes the words of Christ in John 9:41: "If ye were blind, ye should not sin, but now ye say, We see; therefor your sin remaineth" while pointing out that it is in acting in contrary to what we know to be right that we experience "the inner estrangement of guilt" and then goes on to explain: "We all know sin. We are inescapably moral by nature in that we cannot evade the question that finally comes into all reflection: "Am I justified?" We have eaten of the tree of knowledge of good and evil and find the self of action tragically divided against the self of belief" (That they might not suffer: The gift of the Atonement 1).

We are divided in two -- what we know we should do and what we actually do. This division is exquisitely painful. So much so that in Alma 15:3 Zeezrom is described as being sick with a fever as the result of "the great tribulations of his mind on account of his wickedness" and his sins "did harrow up his mind until it did become exceedingly sore, having no deliverance; therefore he began to be scorched with a burning heat."

There is such despair in knowing your have sinned -- that you have turned from God and rightness. This is compounded if you have hurt or brought down others as well. And then, worst of all, there is the disgust you feel for yourself when it something you have done before... something you tried so hard not to do again... and yet here you are again in your utter lack of self-control and total weakness.

Ultimately however, our sins and the accompanying guilt and sorrow are not meant to define us or rule over our lives. Our recognition and suffering is meant to springboard us to healing. In Alma 39:7-8 Alma explains to his erring son "I would not dwell upon your crimes, to harrow up your soul, if it were not for your good. But behold, ye cannot hide your crimes from God; and except ye repent they will stand as a testimony against you at the last day." We must see our guilt and feel guilty in order to have the impetus necessary to turn and face justice -- and with it, mercy and healing.

Elder Uchtdorf did a beautiful job of explaining this concept in a way which encourages us all: "The Apostle Paul taught that “godly sorrow worketh repentance to salvation … but the sorrow of the world worketh death.”Godly sorrow inspires change and hope through the Atonement of Jesus Christ. Worldly sorrow pulls us down, extinguishes hope, [tells us we are broken, damaged goods] and persuades us to give in to further temptation."

"Godly sorrow leads to conversion and a change of heart. It causes us to hate sin and love goodness. It encourages us to stand up and walk in the light of Christ’s love. True repentance is about transformation, not torture or torment." (You Can Do it Now Oct. 2013)

Unfortunately too many suffer under the burden of guilt more than is necessary. Alma lovingly told his son that he "should let these things trouble you no more, and only let your sins trouble you, with that trouble which shall bring you down unto repentance" (Alma 42:29). When we choose to turn our face back to the Lord we must learn to let go of our guilt, and to permit others to do the same.

I feel like there is an unpleasant tendency in the church to turn sin into a monster. I understand why, and the intentions behind it aren't altogether bad. Our leaders are just trying to impress upon us the pitfalls of certain choices  -- and that it is good for us to avoid the suffering the accompanies our mistakes (though ultimately I think it is arrogant to assume we can avoid doing what we were sent here to do i.e. live, sin, & repent). But turning sin into a monster, to try and scare us away from it, just makes our association with the monster when we (inevitably) fall a major problem, because it makes us monstrous in our own eyes and often in the eyes of others. Think about who is often on the fringes of the church? It is those who keep making mistakes -- who we then distance ourselves from because they have been marked by the monster and we shake our heads at their association. We take a kind of pride in being someone who "doesn't make those kinds of mistakes" [never, not once] which, as pride always does, places enmity between us and God as it puts the emphasis on our works over His grace. It also makes our fall much harder if we do make "that kind" of mistake. Rather than being just a fallible human being making totally natural errors, we are marked as a sinner who associated with the monster -- and even once we have resolved, repented of, and been forgiven we carry "the mark" and its attendant guilt.

It is common in the church to overly-dispense guilt. It seems to be common to many churches -- and is the general stereotype of religion; one fairly accurately born of historic roots [see: every hellfire and damnation sermons of the 19th & 20th century] as obedience has been so often taught as something we must do to avoid being a sinner i.e. scum. We heap it on ourselves and others. We slip into taking what is meant to be merely an ignition and we fan it into a roaring blaze that consumes us.

Instead, we should be much quicker to move on, and not try and "use" guilt to promote obedience. Joseph Smith stated: "Nothing is so much calculated to lead people to forsake sin as to take them by the hand, and watch over them with tenderness. When persons manifest the least kindness and love to me, O what power it has over my mind, while the opposite course has a tendency to harrow up all the harsh feelings and depress the human mind" (History of the Church, 5:23–24). Fanning the flames of guilt only makes the course of repentance more difficult -- the the depths of despair seem increasingly bottomless.

The division between us and God -- between what we want to do and what we are able to do, is already great enough (see Romans 7:14-25 & 8:1-6), we don't need to wallow in it or rub it in each others open wounds.

It is the purpose of the Atonement to resolve this division and reveal the truth within the paradox of guilt that debases... but ultimately exalts. Because the law, and our morality, point us in the direction we should go, what we must do, and who we must become, it also becomes "a terrible burden because humans always fail to some degree in living it fully; it therefor stands as a continual reminder of our failure -- a failure that the law's framework of justice demands be paid for, but which we are incapable of paying for. God pierces to the heart of this paradox through the Atonement, and it becomes possible for us personally to experience both alienation and reconciliation, which opens us to the full meaning of both evil and good, bringing us to a condition of meekness and lowliness of heart where we can freely accept from God the power to be a god (That they might not suffer: The gift of the Atonement England 7).

Alma 42:30:
"O my son, I desire that ye should deny the justice of God no more. Do not endeavor to excuse yourself in the least point because of your sins, by denying the justice of God; but do you let the justice of God, and his mercy, and his long-suffering have full sway in your heart; and let it bring you down to the dust in humility."

We must not deny the guilt of sin or the justice of God -- but we must not deny the humility it brings and thus the promised healing  -- of inner & outer conflict as well as forgiveness from others as well as the power to forgive oneself, and find that which is "large enough in love to reach past the wrongs we have done and can never fully make restitution for; that there be hope in the possibility that anyone can be renewed by specific means to a life of greater justice and mercy toward others" (That they might not suffer: The gift of the Atonement  England 2).

Someday I will get to stop failing. In the meantime, the redemptive forgiveness of God makes my failure a school of Godliness.

It takes a kind of emotional self discipline not to allow ourselves to give into guilt, regret, and despair. Continually reminding ourselves of the meaning of God's love can provide the sustenance necessary to give our will the power to maintain realistic expectations of ourselves and others -- and not give into regret, which is ultimately useless. Instead we should respond with "Now that I know more from my mistake, I'll understand things, and myself, better and I will do better next time." After all, “Good judgment comes from experience; experience comes from bad judgment" ((Why the True Church Cannot be Perfect Terry  99).

We must not to sit under the weight of our mistakes, but see them as experience and knowledge -- a chance to better understand ourselves and the human condition; what this all says about me, the truth of my weaknesses, and what it means for me to be in mortality.

Adam and Eve chose to give us the venue for this experience, a fallen world where we experience life as fallen creatures. We were perfect spiritual beings -- and now we are having the experience of imperfection; to be humbled by it, to learn about and experience good & evil, to acquire empathy and charity, and to become like God.  Rather than thinking of this life as a test that we often "fail," (though I would go so far as to say that sinning is not failing -- and is in fact what enables us to actually succeed) I think it's more useful to think of it as a laboratory "God’s grand laboratory — where we are allowed to experiment with dangerous substances" and through trial and error "we are able to apply our minds, hearts, ingenuity, initiative, and faith in creating crude approximations of something truly wonderful" ((Why the True Church Cannot be Perfect Terry 100).

As part of the process of repentance we must learn look at ourselves objectively -- and be as fair and kind as God. He loves us in our sins. His love permits us to be at one with ourselves, even in the midst of our continual inability to always do what is right. This is the peace that the Atonement offers us, to live daily in "the shock of eternal love expressed in Gethsemane" and the be infused with the power to resist needless suffering from our mistakes though the understanding that "If God can have this kind of love for me, who am I to withhold it from myself?" (That they might not suffer: The gift of the Atonement 11-12).

here, we have no continuing city

If the Christian Revelation is true, then it must be true for all times and in all circumstances. Whatever may happen, however seemingly inimical to it may be the way the world is going and those who preside over its affairs, its truth remains intact and inviolate. “Heaven and Earth shall pass way,” Our Lord said, “but my words shall not pass away.” Our Western Civilization, like others before it, is subject to decay, and must sometime or other decompose and disappear. The world's way of responding to intimations of decay is to engage equally in idiot hopes and idiot despair. On the one hand, some new policy or discovery is confidently expected to put everything to rights: a new fuel, a new drug, détente, world government, North Sea oil, revolution, or counter-revolution. On the other, some disaster is confidently expected to prove our undoing: capitalism will break down; communism won't work; fuel will run out; plutonium will lay us low; atomic waste will kill us off; overpopulation will suffocate us all or alternatively a declining birth rate will put us at the mercy of our enemies. In Christian terms such hopes and fears are equally beside the point. As Christians, we know that here we have no continuing city. The crowns roll in the dust and every earthly kingdom must sometime flounder.  --Malcom Muggeridge