Confidently contemplating contemporary concerns

It was finally a beautiful day outside yesterday! I availed myself of the opportunity for some reading time out in the sunshine. The breeze was not chilly; the sunlight was not sickly. A few of the first bold butterflies fluttered about, and I could hear birds chirping happily nearby: nature’s music was exactly what I’ve been craving. Some neighbors exchanged amiable greetings. The grass was even green—I didn’t care to scale the fence to see whether the other side could surpass it.

Saturday night was not so peaceful. That failure is coupled with an enjoyable event on Monday evening, so I stand at one win, one loss for the week. For some silly reason I thought an activity held up at the planetarium would be educational. Instead, I finally made it home four hours later to record details about “the next generation of psychedelic noisemaking,” complete with “pulsating fractal images and other bizarre, druglike shapes.” Not one thing about astronomy. Just “rock on demand.” The seats literally rocked. We were warned to simply close our eyes against the laser light show if we got dizzy or whatnot, but the pulses pierced my eyelids. It was small comfort as I told myself this was scarcely different from any number of church dances. ;-) “I probably ought to be embarrassed at how long it took me to flee, in light of my recent usage of President Benson’s scathing denunciation of such things in dances.” I recall this dialog from a question and answer session on August 25, 1954:

Bro. ___: In your talk you said that the Holy Spirit would not accompany us in a place of evil. I wonder if a person should inadvertantly [sic] fall into such a place of evil if the Holy Spirit would be there to help him get out.

Pres. [Joseph Fielding] Smith: Yes. I’m talking about the fellow who deliberately goes into that place. If he is forced into it, the spirit wouldn’t leave him. It would be there to protect him. There wouldn’t be any reason in the doctrine that if a man is forced to go in to some place, where otherwise he wouldn’t go, that the spirit has to stay outside until they get through with him. It wouldn’t be consistent.

I’ll try to give this insane generation every benefit of the doubt, but I’d like to see any ward member successfully debate with me that that room didn’t jam all communications from the Holy Ghost, except perhaps for the man or woman who didn’t welcome the commotion.

Because I was dependent on my ride home, I lingered in the outside area to actually learn some fascinating things from the exhibits. After they got out, I overheard some talk about “it’s a Saturday night and I have nothing to do.” Heaven help me! This brings to mind a wry statement about the danger of such mentalities: “Once upon a time a very learned Christian king invited our community to take part in a theological disputation. The poor man was bored. And whenever kings or nations get bored, it means trouble for the Jews; we’ve often been boredom’s best remedy—also the cheapest. We still are. They call that practical theology” (Moshe, in Elie Wiesel, A Beggar in Jerusalem [New York: Random House, 1970], 49-50).

I don’t mean this in denigration, but I reserve the right to waste my own time. Sometimes I do indeed waste it, but when others waste it...well, that’s a very human reaction of mine. What’s more, I have a veritable lifetime of constructive personal projects, so it’s hard for me to imagine having no idea what to do with myself. They all voted together to go to a restaurant, and I had no option but to go along for the ride. I raised no fuss about it, anyway. Thanks to my celiac condition, this is generally—when an unknown food joint is sprung upon me—an awkward affair wherein I can’t eat anything. “There were a few shining moments of interaction with others, but that hardly seemed worth the heavy price I paid this evening.”

Oh, well. As for the matter of such events as that, the fact that I don’t feel like I belong is in one sense the most compelling argument for why I came to this day and time. (Christian discipleship brings with it an automatic hope for a better world...see Hebrews 11:13-16, 35-40, JST; Ether 12:3-4; D&C 25:10.) I’ve got steady enough reassurances that there’s no accident in my present placement. I often point fondly to Francis L. Patton’s defense of his defense last century against the Zeitgeist: “I do not think that it [the theology of Princeton Seminary] is even moribund, but I wish to say that, if it should die and be buried, and in the centuries to come, the theological paleontologist should dig it up and pay attention to it, he will be constrained to say that it at least belonged to the order of vertebrates.” By this I have absolutely NO reference to so-called fundamentalism. I just sometimes feel like my spirit belongs to a different set of circumstances than it’s confronted with daily, trying more along the lines of Nephi’s righteous lament:

Oh, that I could have had my days in the days when my father Nephi first came out of the land of Jerusalem, that I could have joyed with him in the promised land; then were his people easy to be entreated, firm to keep the commandments of God, and slow to be led to do iniquity; and they were quick to hearken unto the words of the Lord—

Yea, if my days could have been in those days, then would my soul have had joy in the righteousness of my brethren.

But behold, I am consigned that these are my days, and that my soul shall be filled with sorrow because of this the wickedness of my brethren. (Helaman 7:7-9; see Alma 29:1-7 and Philippians 4:11-13)

This is shortly followed by Samuel’s description concerning the Satanic counterfeit, which is truly so prevalent in our day:

And now when ye talk, ye say: If our days had been in the days of our fathers of old, we would not have slain the prophets; we would not have stoned them, and cast them out.

Behold ye are worse than they; for as the Lord liveth, if a prophet come among you and declareth unto you the word of the Lord, which testifieth of your sins and iniquities, ye are angry with him, and cast him out and seek all manner of ways to destroy him; yea, you will say that he is a false prophet, and that he is a sinner, and of the devil, because he testifieth that your deeds are evil

But behold, if a man shall come among you and shall say: Do this, and there is no iniquity; do that and ye shall not suffer; yea, he will say: Walk after the pride of your own hearts; yea, walk after the pride of your eyes, and do whatsoever your heart desireth—and if a man shall come among you and say this, ye will receive him, and say that he is a prophet. (Helaman 13:25-27)

Yeats is often quoted in the context of the end times:

The best lack all conviction while the worst are full of passionate intensity. . . . And everywhere the ceremony of innocence is drowned.

I had that in mind when I bookmarked a Colombian hostage’s indictment of society: “But it’s not the physical pain that wounds us, not the chains that we wear around our necks that torment us, nor the incessant ailments that afflict us. It’s the mental agony caused by the irrationality of all this. It’s the anger produced by the perversity of the bad and the indifference of the good.”

Which also pulls up a memory from the depths: that of my favorite recitation in college, 50 lines from Michael Wigglesworth’s massive “Day of Doom” (which I chose). (Back then they knew how to write, and Biblically, too!) One passage:

Wallowing in all kind of sin,
vile wretches lay secure:
The best of men had scarcely then
their Lamps kept in good ure.
Virgins unwise, who through disguise
amongst the best were number’d,
Had closed their eyes; yea, and the wise
through sloth and frailty slumber’d.

So in discussing “the best” I mean no disrespect to the best of other faiths, particularly insofar as I am a firm believer in the opt-in/opt-out system described by the Savior (Matthew 8:11-12, and I don’t have time to go into the clarifications regarding acceptance and rejection of “the covenant” by all peoples), and I mean no assumed inclusion of myself in that category. But discuss I shall! Understanding that “nothing is a greater injury to the children of men than to be under the influence of a false spirit when they think they have the Spirit of God” (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, 205), I must say that false religion depends upon the “testimony” of one or a few, imposed upon the credulity of others, while true religion’s effects are reproducible in the testimony of thousands, millions, even billions or trillions. In this preface to a few dogmatic remarks, I happily include another of my favorite quotations:

Is it true that dogmatism “means assertiveness without knowledge?” How do you know that the assertiveness is without knowledge? When the eleven disciples asserted that Christ appeared to them in the upper room after his resurrection, and they thrust their hands in the wounds in his side and his hands, was it assertion without knowledge? Their statement is dogmatic, and justly so. True religion is dogmatic. All truth is dogmatic. . . . The prophets were dogmatic, and when they received revelation, had visions and visitations from heavenly personages, they knew it, they were not deceived, and their assertions were dogmatic, righteously so. There are members of the Church by the hundreds of thousands today, who can speak with knowledge, and dogmatically and truthfully say, they know that God lives, that Jesus Christ is their Redeemer, that he was resurrected from the dead and that the Gospel of Jesus Christ has been revealed from heaven and once more given unto men. They speak dogmatically, they cannot speak any other way. They have the testimony of the truth from the most positive source from which eternal knowledge can come. They have not closed their minds against further truth. They are not asserting these things without knowing full well that they are true. They are not bigots, but their religion is fixed because it is given them by divine revelation. Joseph Smith was dogmatic in relating his visitation of the Father and the Son . . . .

There is no truth that can be known more positively than the truth revealed through the Holy Ghost. Moroni knew perfectly well that his promise which is recorded in the 10th chapter of the Book of Moroni, would be fulfilled, and there are many thousands who can testify to this truth.

The knowledge revealed to the humble believer in Jesus Christ, who has been baptized and confirmed by the laying on of hands surpasses knowledge in the weight of its conviction beyond that of any other source. For that reason the Lord gave the following commandment:

[Matt. 12:31-32.] (Joseph Fielding Smith, Man, His Origin and Destiny [Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Company, 1954], 54-55, 57)

Even new age sentimentalism can connect somewhat on this point, particularly if we understand that not all righteousness is self-righteous, nor is all assertion agency-depriving, nor is all dogmatism incorrect:

There is clearly a lot of dirty bath water surrounding the reality of God. Holy wars. Inquisitions. Animal sacrifice. Human sacrifice. Superstition. Stultification. Dogmatism. Ignorance. Hypocrisy. Self-righteousness. Rigidity. Cruelty. Book-burning. Witch-burning. Inhibition. Fear. Conformity. Morbid guilt. Insanity. The list is almost endless. But is all this what God has done to humans or what humans have done to God? It is abundantly evident that belief in God is often destructively dogmatic. Is the problem, then, that humans tend to believe in God, or is the problem that humans tend to be dogmatic? Anyone who has known a died-in-the-wool atheist will know that such an individual can be as dogmatic about unbelief as any believer can be about belief. Is it belief in God we need to get rid of, or is it dogmatism?

Another reason that scientists are so prone to throw the baby out with the bath water is that science itself . . . is a religion. The neophyte scientist, recently come or converted to the world view of science, can be every bit as fanatical as a Christian crusader or a soldier of Allah. This is particularly the case when we have come to science from a culture and home in which belief in God is firmly associated with ignorance, superstition, rigidity and hypocrisy. Then we have emotional as well as intellectual motives to smash the idols of primitive faith. A mark of maturity in scientists, however, is their awareness that science may be as subject to dogmatism as any other religion. (M. Scott Peck, The Road less Traveled: A New Psychology of Love, Traditional Values and Spiritual Growth [New York: A Touchstone Book, 1978], 222-223)

I really enjoy one Christian’s answer to the “Hollywood” depictions of religion:

“Look at all the religious nuts in mental asylums. It’s their religion that put them there.” Those who feel this way have succumbed to the “common-factor fallacy” pointed out by Anthony Standen. He tells of a man who got drunk each Monday on whiskey and soda water; on Tuesday he got drunk on brandy and soda water; and on Wednesday on gin and soda water. What caused his drunkenness? Obviously the common factor, soda water!

For many, the Church is thought of as the last stop on the train before being institutionalized. A careful scrutiny of a truly disoriented person, however, would reveal imbalance and unreality in other areas as well as in his religious life. (Paul E. Little, Know Why You Believe [Wheaton, Illinois: Scripture Press Publications, Inc., 1968], 176)

May I humbly submit to the reader—having primarily in mind fellow Latter-day Saints, to whom the prophets are “by way of command” rather than “by way of invitation” (Alma 5:62)—that my every stance, especially one published to the world via this medium, is carefully considered? By “considered,” I’m using the most convenient summary for an elaborate process, that by right ought to largely take place in a spiritual realm. In ever so many instances, my own efforts at clear vision are supplemented and magnified at least hundredfold by borrowing the lenses of prophets, seers, and revelators. (I don’t give the readers the benefit of sharing instances in my life where my mistaken idea has been corrected in such a manner!) I am also not laying claim to the weight and authority attributable to such sources, nor am I claiming the same relative weight belongs to all personal opinions expressed; I attempt to give clues when an opinion is written out more hastily than others. Nothing on these pages is of absolute, final quotability without my consent. ;-) That being said, I proceed....

I know that many members, what with continued prejudice in the world, misapplication, and misrepresentation, would be startled to hear my view that too many of us are coming to resemble the world. In continued keeping with “Woe unto you, when all men shall speak well of you! for so did their fathers to the false prophets” (Luke 6:26), some day soon I may write a tongue-in-cheek segment on “How to remain unpopular well into the 21st century.” Pray never forget that my conception of unpopularity in no way involves deliberately repugnant action. We want the world’s curiosity to remain kindled about Him whose light we should bear high, and in this process there will be animosity aplenty drawn upon us: “think it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened unto you” (1 Peter 4:12), “And have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove them” (Ephesians 5:11).

Now, if you will stop sending out these . . . Elders, testifying that Jesus is the Christ, that Joseph Smith is a prophet of God, that we have apostles and prophets inspired of God, that we enjoy revelation, that the signs follow the believer, that the sick are healed by the laying on of hands, that we have divine authority from God, then you will be popular. Are your [sic] prepared to do it? If you will stop going into these temples and receiving your endowments and being married for time and all eternity, that will help a little. . . . If you want to be popular, stop doing the things that I have mentioned and deny their truth. But if you want to stay with this Church, be true to your covenants. (J. Golden Kimball, CR, Apr. 1903, 32)

Now for the unpleasant part, undertaken only by walking the line already laid down by others. I’ve been misunderstood in the past and may be again in the future, but my only desire is for others to follow the surest guidelines to Christ. My finger solely points to the beckoning call of His prophets. Don’t pause to in any way think of me as a stopping point.

“Likewise it is necessary, in this matter, to seek out the cause of your malady and then to apply contrary remedies to it. Otherwise, whatever one may do about it, will but be like beautiful plasters which, even whilst covering the wound on the outside, will nourish rather than heal it on the inside” (Sebastian Castellio, Advice to a Desolate France [1562], reprint ed. Marius F. Valkhoff [Shepherdstown, West Virginia: Patmos Press, 1975], 2). “This searching of our own souls and admitting what we see, is sometimes painful, but its effects are healing and wholesome. Probing a wound is sometimes more beneficial than applying an ointment” (Hugh B. Brown, in Messages of Inspiration: Selected Addresses of the General Authorities of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints [Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Company, 1957], 244-245). See Jacob 2:7-11. We (yes, I’m quite frankly included in the usage of “we”) don’t want to become “past feeling” by permitting spiritual apathy to fester away.

Ignorance lands in the arena that frustrated President Joseph Fielding Smith to no end, as he stated in his introduction to Answers to Gospel Questions: “If the members of the Church would search their scriptures more intensely in the spirit of humility and prayer, disputations would cease among us. It seems to be a difficult thing to eliminate from the minds of some of our brethren cherished notions that are contrary to the revealed word.” At times discussions arise in our classrooms that are an embarrassment to our knowledge of doctrine. Sunday School is not occasion to take a survey to determine doctrine, but an opportunity to hear everyone’s personalistic contribution leading toward the same, inspired truths. (I have neither time nor patience to stop and address the guffawing that any liberal reader will undergo upon reading that one.) I’ve long been impressed by the availability of answers for essentially every question that arises in life, if one is willing to pay the price in gospel study.

I know of one situation where a leader was given every necessary piece of evidence of a teacher’s straying and did nothing, content to remain in a sort of stupor, persuaded that the occasional excesses of emotion among class members were manifestations of the Spirit. The Holy Ghost will take what it can and run with it, but we must remember that it can really only bear witness to truth, and prospers best in the maximum accumulation thereof. Contrariwise, just this past week I was acquainted with a different leader who received an anonymous letter—normally a sign of someone lacking the courage to back up their claims—that he said confirmed his concerns about a teacher’s weaknesses. Within two days he had sacked the old teacher and at least spoken with the intended new one. I was rather more heartened by that rapid action.

I have heard of cases where, intending helpfulness, someone soothed an investigator’s concerns by unknowingly denying an aspect of our beliefs instead of explaining them in the full light of revelation. In summary, I don’t want the alleged role of “spiritual policeman,” and I wouldn’t be any good at it. I’m just concerned that more people aren’t concerned about our lack of concern concerning important concerns.

I will start with an issue only mildly problematic. (I’m not replicating my double-sided handiest reference on this topic.) If one will recall my recent discussion about picking your battles, you’ll quickly realize that this is apparently not a very essential one to be waged. However, in quoting President Heber J. Grant, I’m establishing how he bridges many prophetic thoughts (those before him and, assuredly, those after him); in his practicality, he had a fine way of summing up, in paraphrase, “I don’t go into fantastic doctrinal gymnastics, but I will tell you this: why have you forgotten what we believe?”

By the way, I hear that card playing is becoming very, very popular, and that the Church must be in favor of card-playing, because the Church authorities never say anything against it. From the time I was a child and read the Juvenile Instructor, published for the benefit of the people, I have read nothing except condemnation of card-playing and the wasting of your time in doing something that brings no good, bodily, intellectually, or in any way, and sometimes leads your children to become gamblers, because they become expert card-players. The Church as a Church requests its members not to play cards. I hope you understand me, and I want you to know that I am speaking for the Church when I ask the people to let cards alone. (Gospel Standards, 42)

If you wish to follow the “lazy man’s” pursuit by typing in LDS magazine search terms on this one, give up now. Most published statements are pre-1971 (though we do get Presidents Kimball and Benson on board). If one thinks about it, though, that still covers the majority of Church history. There is no clearly indicated rescission or successful argument that the inherent nature of the game has substantially altered in its impact on society. (Again, I repeat, I am not one to revert prior to one prophet’s decision ending a practice from a previous administration.) In fact, we are coming full circle in going on the offensive once more against gambling. One of the greatest catalysts for our members slipping into the wrong side of this issue, as noted above, is familiarity with cards and such gaming, OR, one might say, unfamiliarity with warnings.

There’s no other construction one can put on the statements of the prophets about it—unanimous in nature—than that cards (at least of the face or gambling-style variety) are not good. I think of President McKay’s elaboration on another vice: “Well, it is sufficient for me to know that God has said, ‘Wine, strong drink, is not good for man;’ and I wish that all Israel would accept that divine statement, and prove in their lives to the whole world that they accept this as a revelation from God” (CR, Apr. 1911, 62).

To quote President Grant (and please note the date of 1923 on this one--I've read just about all of that period Church literature, and the Brethren clearly warned against debt and speculation long before the Depression) again in this little exercise:

I believe that nearly all of the hardships of a majority of the people would disappear if they were willing to forego the habit of wearing silk stockings, so to speak, and get back to the ordinary manner of dressing in a rather quiet, unassuming way; stay away from about nine-tenths of the picture shows that they attend; return to the ways of thrift and economy that I have heard preached from this stand from the days of President Brigham Young until today. (GS, 113; see Alma 1:27)

Continuity is still more easily demonstrated on this one. This doctrine falls under many names, most notably “provident living,” but a sure, true, and time-tested doctrine it is, to the chagrin of many. (Don’t worry—I won’t pull out the specific thoughts on bankruptcy that discuss the blight upon our people there.) More than a decade ago my good mother, ever quick to discern the spirit behind the activities of mankind, was chuckling about the phenomenon called by some critics “trophy homes.” This puts me in mind of a secular commentary thereupon:

Americans not only love to buy homes, we love to buy stuff to put in those homes. According to the National Association of Home Builders, the size of the average house has increased nearly 40 percent, even though the average family size has decreased. Guess what we’re using all that extra space for ... (Sarah Young Fisher and Susan Shelly, The Complete Idiot's Guide to Personal Finance in Your 20s and 30s, 3rd ed. [New York, New York: Alpha Books, 2005], 282)

One good man in my ward put it all together quite neatly last week. He has driven by home after home affected by the bursting of the subprime bubble, and linked it directly to failure to obey the prophets’ counsel. (My sympathies to all, and even more so those who may have been innocently affected. See Mosiah 4:16-23, and the well-balanced D&C 56:16-17) In furtherance of the doctrine of simplicity, I’ll share President Kimball’s quote, which to me is additional testimony of the unchanging warning of prophets:

All my life from childhood I have heard the Brethren saying, ‘get out of debt and stay out of debt.’ I was employed for some years in the banks and I saw the terrible situation that many people were in because they had ignored that important counsel. (Teachings of Presidents of the Church: Spencer W. Kimball, 115)

I remember when President Hinckley gave an address regarding the lean kine. People reacted somewhat sensationally to it, not very mindful of the fact that he’d spoken on it before. A similar situation was once outlined:

A full generation or more ago I was associated with the welfare responsibility here in Salt Lake Valley and Welfare Square. It came to our attention that on an occasion President McKay was reported to have said something in the temple. We never could verify whether this ever did happen or not, but the rumor of it went across the church like wildfire. President McKay supposedly was in the temple one day and he asked the people in a certain room how many had a full year's supply of food. Getting whatever response there was, he was reported to have said, "For the rest of you, it's too late." Well, I doubt that that experience or incident ever happened, but the report that it may have happened moved across the Church with frightening velocity and got to the point where people everywhere were really anxious about getting their food supply. They missed the point in the report that he said it was already too late and they went out and started to buy food as fast as they could. We had reports of stores in smaller communities that were completely bought out. They were sometimes buying unwisely, and as we lived with that little experience for a time, my brother and I, who worked together, analyzed it in our minds and we said, "Well, we doubt that President McKay would function that way. As a prophet of the Lord, when he has a message to give he doesn't send it out by rumor. He sends it out according to the channels of authority in the priesthood. As a matter of fact, we've heard that message for 25 years that the people of this church should go out and supply themselves with a year's supply of food." And so we said, "We don't need to pay any attention to that rumor." And then he and I went out and bought more food. (William Grant Bangerter, 20 Feb 1981, 3-4)

At any rate, I’m holding the Church’s “All Is Safely Gathered In” pamphlet reiterating President Hinckley’s admonition “I urge you . . . to look to the condition of your finances.” The First Presidency has a very wise and succinct statement printed in it, including: “We encourage you wherever you may live in the world to prepare for adversity by looking to the condition of your finances. We urge you to be modest in your expenditures; discipline yourselves in your purchases to avoid debt. Pay off debt as quickly as you can, and free yourselves from this bondage. Save a little money regularly to gradually build a financial reserve.”

President Monson has not changed the drumbeat one whit. We’ve laughed with him when he remarked upon the reversal whereby too many of us have a year’s supply of debt and no food storage. Did that laughter produce changes in accordance with such prophetic priorities?

I read regularly now that our society blithely assumes credit card debt. More than half of us routinely carry a balance from one month to another, something so unthinkable to my family that I didn’t believe the reports for several months. May I offer my testimony that freedom from debt is freedom from one form of bondage? I find myself more free to offer charity to others because of my carefulness the remainder of the time. I can be generous on causes of my own timing and choosing because of discipline at other times. For others, paying down debt is the insistent first whenever any free money comes their way. The causes I enjoy contributing to would be irresponsible for them to participate in. A classic First Presidency statement (Grant/Ivins/Clark), timely in its reprint, states:

We wish the presidencies of the stakes and the bishops of the wards to urge, earnestly and always upon the people, the paramount necessity of living righteously; of avoiding extravagance; of cultivating habits of thrift, economy, and industry; of living strictly within their incomes; and of laying aside something, however small the amount may be, for the times of greater stress that may come to us. By no other course will our people place themselves in that position of helpful usefulness to the world which the Lord intends we shall take.

How useful it is to distinguish clearly between needs and wants! This is made all the easier when decisions are made “considering the end of your salvation” (D&C 46:7). I’m probably easily entertained, but the more people make fun of my paint-peeling car hood, the more determined I am never to change it. Why expend the money for a cosmetic job when, as I say, it ensures that no shallow girl will ever want to ride in my vehicle? “The fashion of this world passeth away” (1 Corinthians 7:31). These people have no idea how much I put away for retirement, what my credit score is. As with my other physical exterior, they’ve made a few quick assumptions. Having in mind the additional necessity of knowing, as Professor Barlow at BYU often said, that he is “a man of God with a job,” and other responsible attributes, I appreciate this counsel to the ladies:

Another word of the Lord to me is that, it is the duty of these young men here in the land of Zion to take the daughters of Zion to wife, and prepare tabernacles for the spirits of men, which are the children of our Father in heaven. They are waiting for tabernacles, they are ordained to come here, and they ought to be born in the land of Zion instead of Babylon. This is the duty of the young men in Zion; and when the daughters of Zion are asked by the young men to join with them in marriage, instead of asking—“Has this man a fine brick house, a span of fine horses and a fine carriage?” they should ask—“Is he a man of God? Has he the Spirit of God with him? Is he a Latter-day Saint? Does he pray? Has he got the Spirit upon him to qualify him to build up the kingdom?” If he has that, never mind the carriage and brick house, take hold and unite yourselves together according to the law of God. (Discourses of Wilford Woodruff, 271)

Now I will go attend to my herein-unaddressed failings.

“Character” Dialogue

Carrying on the familial tone from last entry, I’ll briefly report on something in the Hilltop Times of April 3, 2008. We recently passed the 60th anniversary of the Berlin Airlift. I also prize a recording I have wherein my Great-Uncle Stanley Swinson recounts his participation in that endeavor. Just a few excerpts from the article, in support of my contention that America can lend a gentle giant’s strength to conditions in the world dialogue of humanity:

The German crew who unloaded the aircraft set the tone for the operation.

“The lead man came toward the cockpit unable to speak our language,” the colonel said. “His expression said it all. He looked at the bag of flour and then at us like we were angels from heaven. People were hungry for food and freedom. We were giving them both and they were most grateful.” . . .

“The Berlin Airlift was the first confrontation of the Cold War, and it brought success without a single shot being fired,” Lichte said. “It is one of the most remarkable rescue missions of the 20th century.”

What do real men and nations do when the bullets stop flying? (You already know my personal answer to the question of what they do while the bullets are still flying.)

May I just say the stories you hear about hostile forces gathering together for Christmas celebration are still possible, even if they seem less likely than ever? Strangely, Southerners have an unusual aptitude for such behaviors. As Wilford Woodruff put it (JD, 12:12), “That is the nature of the Southern people—they would invite you to eat with them if they were going to cut your throat.” There is a curious code of conduct that I can scarcely grasp. I prefer to be genuine through and through.

Now I can finally relate a discussion my Grandfather Swinson had some fifty or so years ago. At the time he flew fighters out of Atlanta, with a naughty habit of making sweeps over his hometown of Milan. Once he flew so close to a church under construction that the suction knocked over a stack of bricks and rattled the remainder. People in town still discuss the wide-eyed tales of those who fled cotton fields in panic as he swooped in.

One time he decided that he wanted to scare some buddies playing cards at their usual location in the woods. As he approached they brushed it off as being typical of him; they were quite accustomed to his antics. But he kept getting lower, lower, lower . . . until they really scrambled, ducking, for their lives! As he executed the difficult upward pull afterward, he noticed an undeniable downward drag. The whole way back he couldn’t attain a reasonable speed.

So he strode into the general’s office:

Swinson: I messed up one of your planes, sir.
General: Which one?
Swinson: The new one, sir.
[The general proceeded to grill him with a series of intelligent questions.]
General: I’m not going to ask you how low you were flying!

Not long ago I confirmed with my dad that he’d never known Granddad Swinson to ever be afraid of anything. He’s definitely not afraid of death! On the other hand, I’ve known my dad to be afraid of snakes and needles—both of which are truly unpleasant things. (Dad avoided innoculation during army service by jumping into the outbound line and rubbing his arm like all the others. This came after a nasty experience where they broke off a needle in his arm.)

This week I renewed my labors at the front desk. This has provided ample amusement at times. One guy wanted us to help him write his will. Last time I did this duty, a rather tall sergeant type sat down across from me and quipped, “I bet lots of people call you Shorty.” I immediately responded, “Only once.” It often helps to defuse awkward situations by replying in kind, so long as “in kind” does not mean returning spiteful venom. I try, sometimes unsuccessfully, to remember, “Fun at the expense of others is too expensive. If anyone is to be the brunt of a joke, let it be yourself” (Carlos E. Asay, Family Pecan Trees: Planting a Legacy of Faith at Home [Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Company, 1992], 102).

On Monday there was an individual who kept growing increasingly more agitated, challenging a check amount before he’d even received it. At one point he leaned forward a bit and, with me continuing to face him squarely, commented that most people wouldn’t even look him in the eyes when he wanted answers to his questions. He then said, still slightly upset, that he could appreciate my calm tone. None of this changed the fact that I had little else to tell him, and he finally left peacefully. Even though he’d treaded near the “supervisor” term two or three times, he totally dropped it.

One fellow who claimed head injury was severely aggravated about our decision. I explained the entire situation and evidence requirements, leaned securely on the desk, and invited him to find a more sympathetic doctor’s evaluation somewhere if he wanted things to change. Office discussion has it that with the “crazed look in the eye” people you have to excuse yourself—somehow walking away—because they’ll never leave. This guy got up and left on his own. Two bystanders gave me thumbs up for successful negotiation.

Apparently one scarcely restrained individual whom I ultimately—with approval—forwarded on to the final authority on the floor had actually been so upset “last time” that he was shaking, but he proceeded to praise me in high terms to the “boss.”

The point is not self-congratulation so much as that even socially inept people like me can often succeed when applying basic principles of honesty, respect of what can be respected, and “standing by your guns.” Just be sure you’ve got good guns, and the right to use them—though I suppose “standing by” them implies vigilance and not necessarily active usage. I recall again with enjoyment how Joseph Fielding Smith’s confidence born of absolute knowledge seemed to infuriate some. This continues today, as I just read: “Most scholars emphasize the importance of the triumvirate of Roberts, Talmage, and Widtsoe in the development and definition of Latter-day Saint doctrines at the turn of the century but ignore Smith’s importance. Perhaps this is because of his conservative rather than progressive doctrinal positions, or because of his opposition to the other three scholars over key theological issues. Arrington . . . reports a survey of ‘some fifty prominent L.D.S. intellectuals’ who ranked Roberts first, Talmage fifth, and Widtsoe sixth among the most influential Latter-day Saint intellectuals. Smith does not appear on the list of twelve” (Eric R. Dursteler, “Inheriting the ‘Great Apostasy,’” in Early Christians in Disarray: Contemporary LDS Perspectives on the Christian Apostasy, ed. Noel B. Reynolds [Provo, Utah: Brigham Young University Press, 2005], 32). I might add in passing that the “key” theological issues really reduce to just ONE, upon which other prophets have similarly commented—furthermore, I would probably place Roberts as the very last source for codification of my theological tenets, though liberal intellectuals certainly enjoy him. If they ever want to play dirty, I could point to some things Roberts maintained that would prove positively nauseating to all but the rankest liberals. “Playing” above-board, I could point to many, many things stated by those in higher councils that negate much of what he maintained. Talmage and Widtsoe are also somewhat misrepresented on the issue, especially Talmage. You can perhaps see why I don’t always get along with the intellectuals. Isn’t it curious that the man who undoubtedly held the most authority ranks the least in their book? Someone matters to them only if he says what they want to hear. Speak of going through life blind, certainly never rising above your own intelligence and your own ideas. When will they learn? While prophets may sometimes draw upon scholars to help them express a few things, when it comes to theology, prophets supersede scholars. One relevant quote, since I already have this book out for an upcoming thought:

Permit me to offer you a word of counsel about writing books or articles. Some of you have desired to write, and we do not discourage that. Because of problems with some writings from some of our teachers who have put themselves in print, it is well to give you some cautions. Doctrinal interpretation is the province of the First Presidency. The Lord has given that stewardship to them by revelation. No teacher has the right to interpret doctrine for the members of the Church. If Church members would remember that, we could do away with a number of books which have troubled some of our people. (The Teachings of Ezra Taft Benson, 317)

Speaking of standing by your guns (a phrase first expressed, it appears, by Abraham Lincoln), I could not find this quote, among my favorites, very rapidly in President Benson’s Teachings book, so I just pulled out the original source for its inclusion (1979 Devotional Speeches of the Year, BYU, 65):

How true it is—happy is the man who has found his worship, his wife, and his work, and loves them all.

The world is gradually beating a path to our door to see how we do things. Stick by your righteous guns and you will bless your fellowman. Be right, and then be easy to live with, if possible—but in that order.

There’s another fine line to walk: “speaking the truth in love” (Ephesians 4:15) without being afflicted by the liberal disease, noted by Elder Oaks, “Carried to an undisciplined excess, love and tolerance can produce indifference to truth and justice, and opposition to unity. What makes mankind free from death and sin is not merely love but love accompanied by truth” (Ensign, Oct. 1994, 19). That is why I recorded in my journal on January 29, 2002: “I always have considered faithfulness a more desirable tool than tact.” I’d like to have truth with tact, but if one must yield, I will let go of tact first. Truth really can’t be compromised. This is not to disregard two important caveats with regard to dialogue, increasingly important if love is going to be less apparent: (1) the notion, scriptural in import, of imparting only what others are prepared to hear (or as mandated by God in opposition to their readiness); (2) that other judicious notion of picking your battle. This is why Gerry Spence had his finger on some truth:

I once believed, as most do, that if arguments are to be won, the opponent must be pummeled into submission and silenced. You can imagine how that idea played at home. If, in accordance with such a definition, I won an argument, I began to lose the relationship. Winning the argument merely meant that I had won the right to live in silence with the woman and children I loved. It meant that their ideas, their contributions to the relationship were diminished or demeaned or discarded. It meant that to win I disavowed their personhood, their uniqueness. It meant that to win I was left alone, preaching to myself, yapping, haranguing, demanding at an empty room. . . . Demonstrations of love, whether in the kitchen, the bedroom, or the courtroom, are the most powerful of all arguments. (How to Argue and Win Every Time: At Home, at Work, in Court, Everywhere, Every Day [New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1995], 22, 29).

(This idea of winning every time reminds me of some jokes:

In line at the bookstore, I couldn't help but notice the two bestsellers the person in front of me was prepared to purchase: Conversations With God and How to Argue and Win Every Time. (Jesse Thompson, Reader's Digest, Oct. 2003, 103)

I think, perhaps, I should at this point announce my subject. A subject that is dear to the heart of every young lady present, i.e. MAN. I suspect you young ladies think you know quite a lot about that subject, but may I dare to suggest that you have something yet to learn, and that you will learn and be wiser. I remember hearing of one young lady who on her wedding day gave the bridegroom a book. It was entitled, The Marks of a Perfect Gentleman, and one year later she gave him another book entitled, Wild Animals I Have Known. (Hugh B. Brown, BYU Baccalaureate Address, 31 May 1956, 8)

)

For the reasons cited by Spence, it had better be gospel-based, and a time and battle worth engaging in, if you’re willing to be alone in your rightness. I suppose that’s why President Benson threw in the words “if possible.” The battle I chose with my last relationship—not conducted on strictly negative terms as the above quotation suggests—was but one of dozens waiting to be met, the time long overdue. We had begun severely losing the common forward campaign, and I had to address the fact that our flanks were getting in the way of defeating the enemy. (I also see this as a good cautionary thought that proper dialogue will tell us a lot, without necessarily degrading those with whom we wish no further dealings, about whether too much is going to be a daily battle for the relationship to be worth venturing.)

Returning to the tales from work... As for honesty, a line that I’ve said more than once on this front desk duty, even if it put them on immediate guard, is “I’m not going to lie to you . . .” I also won’t lie to you, my readers. It may well be that my unintimidating size assists others in lowering their guard again.

Some time ago I was promoted from VSR to RVSR, but they’ve delayed the start of training for my new responsibilities. First it was so I could participate in getting my successors on board, then so I could fill a big need with Public Contact. Now I’m not sure what the reasoning is, but this week they finally took me off the VSR “production standard,” and acknowledged the unjustness in putting me on a production standard for RVSR. So technically I don’t have to produce any results during the course of a day right now! We probably shouldn’t average more than spending half an hour with each person who comes to the front desk, but knowing this fact of no production standard I set all that aside for a few of the people who came in this week.

I had a satisfying hour helping a widow fill out her complete financial statement, including getting her on the phone with Zions Bank’s customer service. When asked about what one expense was, she explained really meekly that it was tithing: “I know I can’t afford it, but I think it’s important to pay.” I appreciated that she could say that to someone who, for all she knew, might be just one more Godless government employee. I congratulated her on her faith before moving on. Sorry to say, but I was somehow less naturally inclined to spend much time on the individual who outright remarked, “I’ve served my country, and it’s time for them to serve me.” That was also a far cry from the man who said he wanted no handouts, and that he wouldn’t have traded his military experience for anything. It had meant the world for him to hurry off with an injured native baby not expected to live and then return it to its parents healthy, as well as an assignment to recover the remains of MIAs in Vietnam. He just said if the government had programs in place to assist him with the expenses of surgery to fuse and otherwise repair his spine (damaged due to service-connected injury), he thought it was worth a look.

In that fine distinction, I find that I’m likely to give respect where it is commanded (this verb implying natural deserving, and not a verbal order), but not so much where it is demanded. Then I fall back on the natural basic respect due all mankind, but might not rise much beyond that. Where gospel is concerned, I expressed this private thought on December 10, 2002: “So I’m not sure I could ever tell the people they are something that they aren’t, but I will love them for who they are and encourage them toward what they can be. My goal with teaching is still for the receivers to sense a duty to be up and doing once I fall silent.” (In my last relationship, an incredibly perceptive man had told us that I would be what she let me be, and that she would be who I said she was. She wouldn’t let me do much, and I found over time that my every compliment was beginning to ring hollow and make life feel like a lie. I eventually made the “mistake” of trying to reason with her that commendation sometimes needs a basis.) I’m also now determined that whenever I hear that tired old line, “boys will be boys,” when used to excuse bad behavior—by which I do not intend to discourage childish play in its season, I will begin to answer along these lines: “No. They must grow up some time, and that begins with discipline. Otherwise, even men will be boys.” (See 1 Corinthians 13:11; I think I just decided to discuss the use of youth at a future date.)

This week I learned that I was essentially gently laid off my second job, though two different supervisors have since proposed some sort of permanent standby status. They finally hired someone to do what I was trying to pack in. (Not long ago they sought my time commitment for the week ahead, saying I did what any three normal people could do, so I’m not insulted by this gesture in the least.) I had a legendary reputation there, and can I just say it’s bone-wearying trying to maintain such a reputation as that? ;-) I was actually at the point where I’d been pondering how to ask them for more of my free time back. I have far more important personal projects in life than the accumulation of unnecessary wealth.

In many ways I am grateful to be “off the hook” with one lady. (My theft of another blog’s delightfully clever look at that phrase in no way implies that author’s permission.) It is largely a blessing—only a curse if turned to that end—to be in charge of one’s own destiny. But that was the purpose of our coming here.

During a weekend plagued by the delirium of a cold probably picked up from the public, I have often been led to the reflection that I have not to date encountered the woman whom I would actually have wanted to spend the rest of my life and eternity with. (That even led to a very interesting disease-riddled dream.) This is for more individual reasons than just a flat dismissal, of course. I think of President Kimball’s observation about dangerous makeout locations being “places where people discuss little of art, music, or doctrines” (TSWK, 288). It’s been my observation that there’s too little discussion of those ANYWHERE, especially the last item (though I realize that may be peculiar to my tastes). On a side note, which I’m bound to make as lengthy as all the main notes, a display of ignorance in the doctrinal department is unlikely to produce an immediately bad response from me, but if it’s done with a degree of haughtiness, insistence, or unteachableness, I certainly know it’s time to bring that particular discussion to a close...to at least find a way to excuse myself. I know that if I was unaware of something the prophets taught, I would appreciate having it brought to my attention. Method would count for a great deal, but ultimately I would just be grateful to learn the truth. However, where genuine discussion does not seem invited, it often seems best to leave off.

“Talk wears thin” (Ibid.) everywhere I look. Sometimes in the past I’ve let it wear thin, seeing as my every attempt to address those three items, and whatever others a shy man could come up with, failed to produce a successful date conversation. Then I knew it was time to go home. Yet the gospel teaches us never to take our experience—even if in my case it seems to span twelve or more years—and categorize everyone. Such is useless bitterness, and ineffective for gospel progression. Obviously there are exceptions, much as I’m still counting on it so far as companionate dialogue is concerned, and the Savior dealt with people on an individual basis in any event.

I suppose only honest yet respectful dialogue will ever lead me to that happy state of—terribly worded though it is—a mutually beneficial relationship. (An enlightening search of prophetic quotes is for their teaching that there is no “double standard” for the men and women.) At length, may I just say that I’m free of further guilt (even self-inflicted) on the matter of being in the clutches of “Talons,” a.k.a. “Smiling Eyes” (by use of this name, I have in mind various and sundry gospel articles). I only make such blatant reference because, after reading a few things, that’s the easiest way I find to clear my brain’s buffer again; I don’t do it in any way to put malignment out there that could ever be tied to her own life. May she have peace from me, same as I hope for the same in return. Nonetheless, I'll follow a side track that utilizes words and concepts applicable to all:

In the hour of temptation, sin does not woo us in her true beastly garb, but comes with sweet smells, fine raimant [sic] and flattering speech. We are led to believe that we must attach ourselves to this desirable creature to increase wisdom, influence or stature. But when the honeymoon is over, too late we see that the hair is a wig, the flesh unclean, the garb sloppy, and the disposition vicious. But there she is, clinging to our arms, standing in our way, insulting our friends. Separation would be desirable, but is not easy to obtain. Separation is repentance; but as soon as proceedings are started, she cleans up and comes again in her most tempting attire. Even if the final decree is won, sin comes back again and again in the most trying situations to embarrass and complain. (Glenn L. Pearson, Know Your Religion [Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1961], 150)

I know the many disguises of that monster, Fortune, and the extent to which she seduces with friendship the very people she is striving to cheat, until she overwhelms them with unbearable grief at the suddenness of her desertion. . . .

You have discovered the changing faces of the random goddess. To others she still veils herself, but to you she has revealed herself to the full. If you are satisfied with her ways, you must accept them and not complain. But if you shudder to think of her unreliability, you must turn away and have nothing more to do with her dangerous games. She has caused you untold sorrow when she ought to have been a source of peace. For she has left you, she in whose constancy no man can ever trust. Do you really hold dear that kind of happiness which is destined to pass away? Do you really value the presence of Fortune when you cannot trust her to stay and when her departure will plunge you in sorrow? And if it is impossible to keep her at will and if her flight exposes men to ruin, what else is such a fleeting thing except a warning of coming disaster? It will never be sufficient just to notice what is under one's nose: prudence calculates what the outcome of things will be. (Boethius, The Consolation of Philosophy, rev. ed., trans. Victor Watts [New York, New York: Penguin Books, 1999], 22-23)

I was practically alarmed, certainly amazed, to find "the ex" staring back at me in Chekhov’s stories “La Cigale” (Grasshopper) and “The Princess”; it was as if he was writing part of my story. Some final remarks on my study of human nature that I referred to in an earlier entry.... Two of the things I study most feverishly (since they might be my weakest feature) in developing my most promising story are dialogue and character portraiture. I probably can’t help but stick pieces of my own observations into the characterizations. Even “Smiley” will probably end up in there somewhere, despite my best efforts to the contrary.

I sometimes seem characterless (or colorless) because I withdraw from such expressions myself, preferring instead to analyze...isolating and magnifying virtues, suppressing vices. Admittedly, I’m not human in many normal senses, though I’m anything but free of sin. In other ways, my experience has not taught me that it’s very profitable to put my personality out there. Too many people want me to behave the way they would, instead of learning how I would. Fairly recently (October '07), I came home from a group setting and wrote: "I thought several times tonight that I shouldn't have to practically feel sorry for knowing the truth, as though unlearning it would make me acceptable." "And I gave my heart to know wisdom, and to know madness and folly: I perceive that this also is vexation of spirit. For in much wisdom is much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow" (Ecclesiastes 1:17-18). This sort of public rejection, even on subtle terms, may be in part why I once wrote in my journal that, until I feel at liberty to relax around someone, “The reason for the pathos herein is that I’m a man of intense passions. Part of me has gone underground in that respect, so my feelings bleed through onto these pages. Most people only see glimpses of my emotions, for instance in the eyes.” I’m not certain whether this February ‘04 remark from that former relationship is a plus or not: “[you] spend a lot of journal time thinking about [your] thoughts.”

So I intend now to steer back away from these personalizations into perhaps one or two more entries about dialogue situations in general. May you have a good day, free of self-love and full of loving interaction with others.

Time out for family!

The news for this week is remarkable, unusual, and unexpected family history success.

This entire entry is a deviation from my ongoing diatribe–uh, dialogue. So what’s a little digression within this diversion? I apparently haven’t got the same compunctions as Elder Adam S. Bennion, who said, “I always wish I could take the privilege of that Middle Western minister about whom it was said he first announced the text; second he departed from it, and third he never returned” (BYU Speeches of the Year, 2 Feb 1954, 3).

First I shall lay the foundation for the excitement of discovery by conversing about what was already known. In preface, wander back with me to northern Florida around the turn of the last century. Descend south of Jacksonville on toward the area of the ancient coastal city of St. Augustine, walking amid dense forests of tall trees with very large, gnarled, aboveground roots, frequently surrounded with untamed swamp. Little has changed from the conquistadors’ travels through this vast and mysterious region. In time we come to a more southerly verdant area, replete with Spanish moss, ferns, and other unusual foliage recalling primeval forestation.

Together we peer at my great-great-grandfather, Thomas Oscar Miller. He came from a farming family (which evidently followed the rivers out of the “wiregrass” portion of Georgia) and dealt in the horse trade. He was a pale-skinned, blue-eyed, red-haired man with a rather large mustache and a penchant for marrying women not acceptable by the social conventions of his time and region.

In 1900 he had to bury his first wife and their little child. Interestingly, they were buried with but crude markers, even by comparison, and well outside of the family plot. When I first discovered their marriage record, it gradually dawned on me that the “Col” after her name had no reference to any sort of social rank. In those days, the southern states had laws on the books greatly resembling Hitler’s Nuremberg laws, with an odd kind of insistence on remembering the slightest “infraction.”

What noone in our family knew until September 2006 was the similarity in action when he next married my ancestor, Lillie or Lily Saunders. While it’s not altogether impossible that her family had long forgotten a “peculiar” aspect of its origins, it would have been easy to conceal after their move to Georgia between 1800 and 1804, or again when they went to Florida by about 1845.

One source recounts some of what occurred with her ancestors on the paternal side:

In 1731, the Commons House of Assembly considered the case of Gideon Gibson, a free mulatto carpenter from Virginia, who migrated to South Carolina with his white wife and children. Concerned over the presence of a free black with a white wife, a committee investigated Gibson, but found him to be a responsible, and fairly prominent, member of his local community, owning two tracts of land and seven slaves as well. Gibson and his family were declared “not Negroes nor Slaves but Free people.” The Gibsons went on to prosper in the economic and social life of Craven County.

Specifically, HL [Henry Laurens] refers to an incident involving Gideon’s son, also named Gideon (d. ca. 1783). In 1768, the younger Gibson, who owned 1,100 acres, and was a leader in the Regulator movement in the Peedee region, was targeted for arrest by the Provost Marshal. The local militia leader, George Gabriel Powell, attempted to take Gibson into custody. Gibson refused to surrender and Powell’s militiamen sided with the Regulator. Humiliated by the conduct of his troops, Powell resigned as militia colonel and sought vindication against Gibson by attacking his racial background. The matter went before the South Carolina assembly (of which HL was then a member) which according to HL’s version of events noted . . ., was not receptive to Powell’s accusations.

Henry Laurens offered an oft-quoted observation, such as on this here linked site, which is nonetheless still riddled with other (just-as-oft-omitted) racial prejudices (such as Gibson’s children being still more “whitewashed” than he was):

Reasoning from the colour carries no conviction. . . . Gideon Gibson escaped the penalties of the negro law by producing upon comparison more red and white in his face than could be discovered in the faces of half the descendants of the French refugees in our House of Assembly.

This difficult line to trace is corroborated—and challenged—here and there on the Internet, but it’s hardly my intention to pull out the papers at this time. Depending on whose side you’re reading, Gibson is either vilified or lionized. He had enemies, to be sure.

As for the interesting subject of blacks and the priesthood, which I would never permit to become disdainful or controversial in my presence, regarding either the Church or my good brothers and sisters of every nation, kindred, tongue, and people, I simply refer in passing to one interesting website, the fact that most racial commentary people have attempted to quote have been falsely attributed to early leaders (and I’m in some position to have studied that out), and two thoughts from pre-1978 presidents of the Church:

President Joseph F. and other Church leaders spent hours, days, and sometimes weeks on the various train lines while traveling among the Saints. Usually, President Joseph F. Smith had access to a private car, making these trips a little more comfortable for the venerated leader. On one such trip, a very extended excursion to Florida, President Joseph F. was accompanied by his wife Julina Lambson Smith and his daughter Emily Jane. She recalled:

“Moma & Papa at the rear of the train. Pres. Smith usually had his own car as they traveled on the railroad. . . . President Smith invited the railroad porters into his car to kneel and have family prayer with his family. They loved Pres. Smith. He admonished them to live their religion and some day, probably not in their life time or his, but some day those who lived worthily would receive the priesthood.” (Richard Neitzel Holzapefel and R.Q. Shupe, Joseph F. Smith: Portrait of a Prophet [Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Company, 2000], 183-184)

In discussion with one individual, caught in the lie perpetuated by a recent scholarly publication that delighted more in stirring flames than getting to the heart of matters, I corrected the impression that President Harold B. Lee allegedly left with others: that the blacks would never receive the priesthood while he was around. His press announcement (November 16, 1972), addressing the matter of conferral of the priesthood, as president of the Church speaks differently:

It’s only a matter of time before the black achieves a full status in the Church. We must believe in the justice of God. The black will achieve full status, we’re just waiting for that time. (L. Brent Goates, Harold B. Lee: Prophet & Seer [Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Company, 1985], 506)

Returning to the marriage of Thomas Oscar Miller and Lillie Saunders on March 26, 1901 in St. Johns County, Florida.... His bride is reputed to have been very beautiful, as was her brother’s daughter. Her first husband had stepped out one day to go to the store and never returned. Her brother, John, spoke only in very hushed tones that they might find him if they drained Lake Stella; in this, he was not confessing a part but hinting at knowing the culprits, but he was unwilling to expose himself and family to dangers. (He wrote to my grandmother’s family shortly before his death in 1941 that he was ready to talk about it, but that never transpired.) Considering the rough-and-tumble nature of the region, this isn’t surprising. Lillie’s aunt, Ozella/Ozilla/Ozillia, had a first husband killed in a gunfight over cattle rights—for an interesting read on frontier justice, historical puzzles, and detective work, refer to this other linked site, by search term: death.

The tragic cycle continued. After my great-grandmother’s birth in Haw Creek in 1903, and her little brother’s birth in Bunnell in 1904, both Lillie and a little boy died of blood poisoning related to childbirth around 1905 or 1906. Yet again, Thomas buried a wife and small child. We don’t even know where! The only reference I’ve ever discovered was to some site near Fort Lauderdale, which makes little sense with the family’s residence.

In time, Thomas married his third wife, who had a six-year-old boy out of wedlock (in all actuality probably not belonging to him). She became a torment, like Cindarella’s stepmother, to my great-grandmother, Nettie. When Thomas died of cancer while she was still a young woman, it was apparent that it was time to leave, so Nettie went south to West Palm Beach and became a waitress. I’ve never found a living person who can explain how she met her husband there, when by all accounts he had no reason to be away from the vicinity of Atlanta. The hardships continued all of her life, with a house fire destroying her every earthly possession. Her husband preceded her in death by twenty years, wasting away from lung cancer and leaving her to struggle for subsistence through a nursery behind her tiny home by the railroad tracks. But she was a very practical woman, who could grow anything and make a meal out of anything. If one spotted a turtle moving through the yard, odds were good that dinner was supplied! I own a Bible that she clearly read in its entirety, an impressive accomplishment for one lacking a rudimentary education, and still more damning to the rest of us. It is also obvious from the emphasis in her markings and occasional notes that she took it literally and seriously. She could recite all the botanical names of her plants; she and her husband both had an aptitude for taming wild animals—I love a photograph of a pet squirrel, Pedro, sitting on Great-Grandpa’s knee.

Stepping forward.... On March 13, 2000, thanks to a grant, the Sorenson Molecular Genealogy Foundation drew my blood for a DNA sample, giving me $10 to do so! This took place in the Widtsoe Building on BYU campus. (Only two days previous to that I’d performed the initial work on an ancestor of a different line that in less than two weeks turned into another precious experience, so perhaps we can perceive that God is blessing us all the time...the timing of fruition is the more difficult matter for mortal comprehension.) When I’ve remembered that test from time to time, I’ve known I was waiting for the general availability of such technology to bring costs down to where it’d be reasonable to inquire about what this sample showed. On March 14, 2008, almost exactly eight years later, I got a special e-mail offer, as an early participant, to access one particular test result for $19.50 (half of which is covered by what they gave me in the first place).

It’s a pity they didn’t have results ready in time for a recent presentation—not that I would’ve known how to cram anything else into it. Earlier this week, GeneTree finally unlocked the profile. As far as things have come, at present only certain results are available. I was able to view the outcome of a maternal mitochondrial strand, which pertains solely to the mother in each successive generation. However, the site showed that I’m an exact genetic match (too close for genetic variation, i.e., mutation to have occurred) for someone else who was already signed in to the system. In less than 24 hours, I was in e-mail contact with an excited cousin.

You see, my great-aunt spent her life hoping to find Lillie Saunders’ parentage. This only began to open up shortly after her death. Being the overly meticulous researcher I am, even when holding several puzzle pieces I still had my doubts concerning the mother for Lillie, who also appears to have died within three years of Lillie’s birth, perhaps even immediately afterward. In one moment, several links are solidified beyond that point of former doubt, putting to scorn the time I wasted attempting to scrutinize things to my picky satisfaction. Whereas external evidences can at times be difficult, we again learn (the important added spiritual lesson) that internal evidences cannot lie. My newfound cousin’s direct maternal line terminates with a common ancestor four generations beyond Lillie. Shortly before 1800, our ancestors were sisters in the same household: that of Solomon Reaves and Sarah Floyd, of Columbus County, North Carolina. Thus my mother’s mother’s mother’s mother’s mother’s mother’s mother’s mother was the same person as her mother’s mother’s mother’s mother’s mother’s mother. This reminds me of another phone conversation I had with a financial representative some time ago:

Him: I’m going to have to ask you a security question.
Me: Go ahead.
Him: Uh...okay...what’s your mother’s mother’s mother’s mother’s maiden name?
Me: Saunders.
Him: Well done! I have to say, we don’t get that one very often.
Me: That’s the idea with security questions, right?

(This lineage links me, again, into several more direct ancestors who served in the American Revolution. Concerning Solomon Reaves, who did have a truly unflattering meeting with Francis Asbury, it’s said: “Reaves eventually became a large landowner, but preaching was his major interest. He spoke at churches and tent meetings throughout the territory which was to become Columbus County. Apparently he was the best-known preacher in the area. His services were in great demand. Reaves served as chaplain of a local militia company during the American Revolution. He was twice burned out by the Tories because of his activities with the Whigs.”)

This new family opens up a very large realm of possibilities and lots of work. If I can test the strength of one more commonly-accepted link, I will grant without reservation that I tie into a Lewis family with close connections to General Washington’s ancestral home. (This web link covers all of that history, along with the Lewises, an interesting mania for DNA testing, and pedigree matters I will shortly delight in traversing. Susan, as one with a direct interest therein, that link, and every associated one with the last three paragraphs and ending external link, will be worth even your valuable time, if no other reader’s.)

This Lewis line is somewhat enthusiastically traced directly back to one whom I feel is most accurately termed “a semi-legendary ancestor to the kings of Gwent,” named Caradoc Freichfras. In one of those odd ironies of life, his legend blends into that of Arthur, as he is associated with his knights. I had no idea in bringing that up last time that this would suddenly become more relevant. Now, the mists of history render nearly everything connected with these times fantastic and nearly to entirely not to be believed. Nonetheless, the reader is sure to believe me when I mention how much I appreciated reading that Caradoc is said in the Mabinogion (far closer to the basis for Arthurian tales than William of Malmesbury) to have uttered this shortly before tearing his way into battle:

“Whether thou mayest choose to proceed or not, I will proceed.” Thou sayest well,” said Arthur, “and we will go altogether.” “Iddawe,” said Rhonabwy, “who was the man who spoke so marvelously unto Arthur erewhile?” “A man who may speak as boldly as he listeth, Caradawc Vreichvras, the son of Llyr Marini, his chief counselor and his cousin.”

Throughout my life I’ve breathed sighs of relief at never connecting to royalty, deeming them at times among the filthiest families in Europe. I prefer the brave and simple folk upon whom life really depends. Previews for “The Other Boleyn Girl” appear to depict royalty at its stereotypical heights: brats behaving badly. (I did a double take recently when meeting someone whose last name was Holbein, thinking that my thoughts about Henry’s times had just created an illusion.) Similarly, I chortled at Paine’s assessment of nobility as no-ability. So if I must tie into “famous” families, I think I can handle Welsh royal genealogy. They are among those sworn to an unending hostility to both Anglo-Saxon and Norman encroachment. The title “Prince of Wales” bestowed upon English royalty has for nearly a millennium been but usurped from the original holders. Giraldus Cambrensis had some praiseworthy things to say about Welsh warriors. I’m a fan of Lloyd Alexander’s Chronicles of Prydain, and have them in my bookcase of recommended reading for any future children I might just possibly maybe happen to have.

There was, however, a time when I committed royal pedigrees to memory, since somehow I couldn’t just stop with my own. (I think I’ve mentioned before that Ether 1:6-33 struck me favorably at age eight, and that long before I was twelve I was filling lined sheets of paper with transcribed Biblical lineages.) My scoutmaster had me recite Prince William and Harry’s ancestry back to Rollo the Viking for the amusement of some visiting British computer experts. Even then I could tell there were glaring inaccuracies in Royal Ancestors of Some L.D.S. Families. My firm view about discarding the disproven and waiting on the unproven was rapidly forming in every possible way. I had the subsequent opportunity to write a negative review of still another burgeoning “lost tribes” manuscript in late 2005—here’s the portion immediately applicable:

It is commonly believed that kingly genealogies with Odin on them (141-142) were merely extended upon conversion to Christianity, to make them more palatable. None of this proves or disproves Odin as a historical figure, let alone Israelitish. These adapted ancestries included Judah in order to establish the divine right of kings, in a manmade usage of scripture. The lion (143-144) could easily have been added to the Union Jack at any time, and it is highly doubtful it goes clear back through the mists of antiquity for the desired connection. Many have interpreted the sceptre of Judah (see 149-150) as having been removed shortly following Christ’s first coming; hence the scripture would already be fulfilled.

I know that on the evening of October 30, 1992 I was busily copying Merovingian—that is, predecessors to Charlemagne’s dynasty—lines from available library books and encyclopedias. (I was severely disappointed in my father in later years when I learned that he’d disposed of that set of encyclopedias, saying that they were all on CDs or online these days. It’s been my observation that practically everyone, myself included, is simply accessing them less, glancing at knowledge in a more sporadic and shallow fashion.) One of my distant French relatives who is busily tracing every conceivable branch of the Roque ancestry had the good sense to stop short with a mere statement that one family appears in some records to have a tie to the Merovingians. One will recall that in Dan Brown’s Da Vinci Code, he repeats the sensational assertion that this dynasty was descended from Christ. Somehow he takes all of the fun out of being a descendant of Jesus Christ when everything else he has to say and write about it denies His divinity. ;-)

When I read Brown’s book, I found it dangerous in that it was a brilliant piece of engaging fiction (and fiction in its truest sense), laden with some serious attacks on organized religion. Its very popularity serves it well, spreading his additional ideology. I only brought one quote—a dialogue—out of it, saved in my “Satan’s quotes” category:

"There's an enormous difference between hypothetically discussing an alternate history of Christ, and . . ." He paused.

"And what?"

"And presenting to the world thousands of ancient documents as scientific evidence that the New Testament is false testimony."

"But you told me the New Testament is based on fabrications."

Langdon smiled. "Sophie, every faith in the world is based on fabrication. That is the definition of faith—acceptance of that which we imagine to be true, that which we cannot prove. Every religion describes God through metaphor, allegory, and exaggeration, from the early Egyptians through modern Sunday school. Metaphors are a way to help our minds process the unprocessible. The problems arise when we begin to believe literally in our own metaphors." (Dan Brown, The Da Vinci Code [New York: Doubleday, 2003], 341-342)

Can you sense the danger in our society? Did you see that sweeping rejection of all faith, instead of at the very least a tolerant gesture toward people believing in some sort of good? How about the subtle insertion of the word “imagine” in his definition of faith?

And now as I said concerning faith—faith is not to have a perfect knowledge of things; therefore if ye have faith ye hope for things which are not seen, which are true. (Alma 32:21, emphasis added; see Romans 8:24 and, naturally, Hebrews 11:1-3 with another emphasis upon the JST and verse 2)

A generation ago we largely relegated the Savior to a position of little personal relevance. At times it was nice to quote a few one-liners from Him in a peace-loving fashion, but everything else was terribly inconvenient to the lifestyle of choice. Today we seek to dispose of Him entirely. Yes, God requires faith, and His enemies attack the very fact that He refuses to intervene sufficiently as to remove all possibility of exercising faith upon this mortal sphere. Wicked men always do tempt God, with their “If thou be the son of God,” do this (see Matthew 4, Alma 30:48-53)... And then they are surprised when at great length He smites them!

Jesus Christ did not deal in mere metaphors, either, but tangible practices and the consummate real sacrifice. Intelligent people with a good command of language and whose minds can spew forth an array of historical trivia and other mumbo jumbo so rapidly that the layman swallows it up unquestioningly have often failed to grasp that point about external and internal evidences. The externals sometimes contradict each other, or can be made to appear in whatever way the next shyster can pawn it off on the gullible, but the internal witness is undeniable. A testimony solely based on external things, even when perfectly acceptable, will eventually fall without the internal foundation.

The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God:
And if children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ; if so be that we suffer with him, that we may be also glorified together. (Romans 8:16-17)

Many years before the emergence of this recent rash of “sangreal” literature I talked with my best friend about the possibility of descendants of Christ. My conclusion then, as it ever will be, is not to concern myself so much about that as whether we choose to be His spiritually begotten sons and daughters (Mosiah 5:7; Ether 3:14; John 1:12-13 with D&C 39:4-6). He does not approve of superiority complexes among those who are equally children of God—He is more embracing than that. In fact, He has made His own provisions for those who cannot currently “see him as he is” (1 John 3:2: and, as this scripture really means, NONE of us can fully and absolutely accept Him in this life). Mosiah 15 makes it clear that Christ’s seed are all those who accept the prophets and come unto Him for the remission of their sins. I turn to President Harold B. Lee’s timely testimony:

Fifty years ago or more, when I was a missionary, our greatest responsibility was to defend the great truth that the Prophet Joseph Smith was divinely called and inspired and that the Book of Mormon was indeed the word of God. But even at that time there were unmistakable evidences that there was coming into the religious world actually a question about the Bible and about the divine calling of the Master, Himself. Now fifty years later, our greatest responsibility and anxiety is to defend the divine mission of our Lord and Master, Jesus Christ, for all about us, even among those who claim to be professors of the Christian faith, [we find many who] are not willing to stand squarely in defense of the great truth that our Lord and Master, Jesus Christ, was indeed the Son of God. (The Teachings of Harold B. Lee, 11)


Testimony may be defined simply as divine revelation to the man of faith. The psalmist echoes the same thought: “. . . the testimony of the Lord is sure. . . .” (Psalm 19:7.) Paul, the apostle, declared “. . . no man can say [or know] that Jesus is the Lord, but by the Holy Ghost.” (1 Corinthians 12:3.) The prophets have further taught that if you were to “ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost. And by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things.” (Moroni 10:4-5.) . . .

God lives! Jesus is the Savior of this world! The gospel of Jesus Christ as contained in fulness in the ancient and modern scriptures is true! These things I know by the witness of the Spirit to my spirit. . . .

Not many have seen the Savior face to face here in mortality, but there is no one of us who has been blessed to receive the gift of the Holy Ghost after baptism but that may have a perfect assurance of His existence as though we had seen. Indeed, if we have faith in the reality of His existence even though we have not seen, as the Master implied in His statement to Thomas, even greater is the blessing to those who “have not seen, and yet have believed” (John 20:29), for “we walk by faith, not by sight” (2 Corinthians 5:7). Although not seeing, yet believing, we rejoice with joy unspeakable in receiving the end of our faith, even the salvation of our souls (see 1 Peter 1:8-9). . . .

Anyone who has had a testimony, then, has enjoyed the gift of prophecy, he’s had the spirit of revelation. He has had the gift by which the prophets have been able to speak things pertaining to their responsibilities. (Teachings of Presidents of the Church: Harold B. Lee, 38-40)

To which I would be a poor excuse for a Christian disciple if I did not add my own certain testimony, before the world if need be, that I too know that Jesus Christ lives. Not only does He live, but He did what He said He was here to do. We may all escape the awful consequences of sin—not by denying it, but by regretting it and asking Him to free us from all desires to sin any more, and then actively improving our lives (and others’) in constant alignment with His teachings. Nor is repentance a one-time event, or reserved strictly for the “serious” trespasses of God’s law.

I’m going to conclude by resumption of narrative about my own family....

Records genuinely demonstrate that these Lewises I’ve spoken of would make me a distant cousin, via several connections at various points along the line overseas in Wales, to Charles W. Penrose, who served in the First Presidency with President Joseph F. Smith, who once called Penrose his “scriptorian.” As a concession to all my recent talk about dialogue, I enjoy President Penrose’s response to an overtly antagonistic question on intertwined themes:

Question 13: Should there be more than one temple in use at the same time and why? Please give Biblical evidence.

Answer: Yes. There should be as many temples as may be needed for the immense labors in behalf of the dead, for the hearts of the children who have received of the spirit of Elijah are turned to their deceased ancestors, and the hearts of the fathers are turned to their children who can act as saviors for them upon Mount Zion, without whom they cannot “be made perfect,” and there are millions and millions who are awaiting their redemption. It would not matter if there was not Biblical reference or allusion to this magnificent subject, any more than there is to the colonization of Australia, or the Constitution of the United States. Some folks ought to hunt through the Bible for their own names to be sure they are alive. But let our inquirer read Malachi 4:5, 6; Heb. 11:39, 40; I Peter 3:18-22; I Cor. 15:29; Rom. 11:26; Philip 2:10, 11; Rev. 20:14, etc. (Improvement Era, Sep. 1912, 1045)

If his tone is considered slightly acrid, as people have often mistaken prophets’ reactions to similar questions, we must realize how very well they discern either: (a) latent hostility, or (b) inexcusably extreme ignorance. The wise operate on similar principles. That reminds me of a dialogue cut short, as related by Elie Wiesel:

One evening one of the future rabbis ran into him in the elevator. He had an appointment for a final exam. ([Saul] Lieberman's exams usually took place late at night.) On the elevator they chatted about this and that, then walked to the door of Lieberman's office, where the professor said, "Good night."

"But what about the exam?" the student stammered.

"Knowledge may take a long time to measure," Lieberman replied, "but ignorance does not." Usually he was more merciful. (All Rivers Run to the Sea: Memoirs [New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1996], 399)

Oh, yeah! I promised to wrap up.... As matters develop, it appears I’m descended from the man who left a quaint grave marker in Virginia:

Here lieth interred the body of JOHN LEWIS Born in Monmouth Shire died the 21st of August 1657 aged 63 years

The Anagram of his Name
I Shew no ill

One will readily recall that the doubled l would be typical to a Welshman, and the i in the stead of j quite in keeping with the times. (I also remember a near-fatal misstep in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, pertaining to this very thing.)

This also reminds me of Thomas More’s remark, reminiscent of some of Joseph Smith’s final thoughts, as a man with a conscience void of offense towards God or man: “I do nobody harm, I say none harm, I think none harm, but wish everybody good. And if this be not enough to keep a man alive in good faith I long not to live” (Elizabeth Frances Rogers, ed., St. Thomas More: Selected Letters [New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1961], 247-248). While we’re on such subjects, it’s convenient to share his inscription with interesting implications that the world—in view of abuses—refuses to consider, misinterpreting, for instance, a response of Jesus that President Penrose and Talmage and others have explained thoroughly. (This was misconstrued to such an extent that the great-grandmother of whom I’ve spoken frequently today was conned by her preacher into the belief that she would not be with her husband in heaven, to whom she’d been so deeply devoted in this world—well, now she knows he was wrong):

My beloved wife, Jane, lies here. I, Thomas More, intend that this same tomb shall be Alice’s and mine, too. One of these ladies, my wife in the days of my youth, has made me father of a son and three daughters; the other has been as devoted to her stepchildren (a rare attainment in a stepmother) as very few mothers are to their own children. The one lived out her life with me, and the other still lives with me on such terms that I cannot decide whether I did love the one or do love the other more. O, how happily we could have lived all three together if fate and mortality permitted. Well, I pray that the grave, that heaven, will bring us together. Thus death will give what life could not. (Ibid., 182-183)

So with thoughts of Jesus Christ, love, family, and a glorious future in mind, I bid you good night.

Our Fading Civility: The Art of Dialogue, part 2

Having failed to conclude my last entry properly, I will bridge the gap with two wry quotes regarding the crying need for dialogue between the sexes, since “There is no sex-war among the Latter-day Saints” (John A. Widtsoe, MS, 94:136) was confidently uttered by one who hadn’t seen our present fall from the ideal. Even good-natured ribbing about differences has disappeared in the wake of constant misunderstanding. We will frequently see men and women either shunning their natural divine qualities or using them as weapons against the other. I won’t lie: even prophets are among those who talk about lifelong difficulty drawing the two into a perfect complement, but they also attest to an unimaginable magnification of potential where this is attempted. It certainly won’t occur where communication lines are cut.

I believe both authors of the following intended to point to the absurdity of their character’s statement.

To speak frankly, I am not in favour of long engagements. They give people the opportunity of finding out each other’s character before marriage, which I think is never advisable. (Lady Bracknell, in Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest [New York, New York: Avon Books, 1965], 99)

(For some reason, one of the girls I’ve mentioned in my dating history lent me that book.)

“Well,” said Charlotte, "I wish Jane success with all my heart; and if she were married to him to-morrow, I should think she had as good a chance of happiness as if she were to be studying his character for a twelve-month. Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance. If the disposition of the parties are ever so well known to each other, or ever so similar beforehand, it does not advance their felicity in the least. They always continue to grow sufficiently unlike afterwards to have their share of vexation, and it is better to know as little as possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life.” (Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice [New York: Signet Classic, 1989], 21)

Does the fact that I’m conversant with such a book enhance my standing with the ladies? Unlikely. Actually, I think I read this one as the direct result of contact with a different girl. I once startled yet another girl because on Friday night she mentioned her favorite book, and by church that week I tried engaging her in a book review discussion about it—it’s not one I’ll recommend. Trouble is, I think she was more disturbed than flattered that I’d checked it out and finished it in the intervening time. Moving on, then...

I also have a rather opinionated opinion about dialogue, in that it probably ought to be elevated. Many seek fun, and only (or primarily) fun, in companions. This becomes something like a permanent Peter Pan partnership, scarcely differing from the single men Elder Oaks refers to who refuse to get married, in that they assume that one responsibility, but no more. (Say “permanent Peter Pan partnership” five times rapidly.) It’s been my observation that as much as four years later there are no children (delayed—in at least two cases I know of—by their own declaration of intent), no serious dedication to some sort of church goal; there are just late nights of PlayStation and Saturday mornings of cartoons. Sundays might be an endless shuffle between parents’ wards and homes, and other places. (My parents pledged to not be intrusive, and they’re true to their word.) Something huge is missing in terms of establishing one’s own homestead—and it’s hard to take them very seriously. Since I didn’t intend for the entry to take this turn, I won’t insert a couple of President Kimball quotes. :-)

“The family institution comprises more than the wedded union of husband and wife with its mutual obligations and responsibilities. The status of parenthood is the flower of family existence, while marriage was but the bud” (James E. Talmage, Vitality of Mormonism, 216). (I’m not going to open this big can of worms right now.) Even their date nights continue to resemble a wild night on the town more than a mature deepening of an eternal romance. This is well enough insofar as they seem to share goals, but it still seems to me like a subtle mockery of the sacred institution of marriage and covenants made at the altar. I guess it’s the result of two individuals marrying each other at the same stage of life and modern society not really urging graduation into the next stage. All of human history, church history, and the Spirit speaking to us proclaim that the arrival of infants to parents prepared to train them properly, at this VERY time, is vital to future events. Heaven justifies no vain delay.

I’m right there with Elder Ballard this afternoon on the danger of mind-numbing time wasters, as well as the need for rejuvenating fun time. A partner ought to also be a playmate, but at appropriate times. Both should rejoice in life’s responsibilities and instinctively know how to make the most of their windows of alternate opportunity. He also issued a timely warning, central to my whole dialogue reflection, that we should not put other things ahead of listening to our family.

Somehow with the removal of the harsh conditions of the past, we’ve also largely removed our sense of obligation to the serious matters of life. People once grew up out of necessity by 16; now there’s no telling at what age “necessity” would dictate maturity.

Susan, I’ve been bursting with the need to share some things gleaned from a thorough new book (Bertrand Van Ruymbeke, From New Babylon to Eden: The Huguenots and Their Migration to Colonial South Carolina), so I’m simply going to pretend it's pertinent to this essay. It concerns the examples of some forebears, standing at the head of a progeny to which they gave their all.

After Jean and Jacques Roque’s deaths, in light of their time in prison, it appears that the sentence passed upon the remaining Roque family was typical of that reserved for “those whose obstinate refusal to abjure made them, in the eyes of the monarchy, potential leaders,” “hopelessly impervious to conversion.” Charles LaPierre’s role as predicant (preacher)—which, it is said, he took upon himself after the regular minister expired upon the wheel—meant certain death, and his son Jean’s apparent assistance at secret meetings would have guaranteed imprisonment. Jean (John) grew up quickly in all those ways that should matter most anyway, since at the age of six he lost his mother. It’s interesting that his first daughter, born in Westminster shortly before his departure to America in 1708, was named for his martyred mother, Jeanne. We descend from his next daughter, Martha, named for the youngest (surviving, to that point) Roque, beloved of the family and likewise martyred for her beliefs.

We learn that Jean’s wife, Susanne, was blind before they came to North America on assignment from the Bishop of London. I’m touched every time I think of her successfully raising five children in the frontier wilderness. Oh, how these families loved each other, too! LaPierre later became unfortunately embroiled in controversy with difficult parishioners, and I don’t exactly approve of his preaching for sustenance, but I rather enjoy this:

Apparently they were not disappointed by their minister’s sermons, which “surpassed their hopes,” as LaPierre revealed himself to be “a good theologian,” expounding on biblical texts “methodically and in a charming manner with his expressions, his voice, and hands” so that “the entire assembly was extremely edified.” Within a few weeks LaPierre had won “the heart and affection of his church,” and his parishioners were so eager “to bring him what is necessary to life [that soon] he was agreeably overwhelmed with an abundance of goods.” In no time LaPierre was “admired by the English as much as by the French” and was heralded as “the most skilful preacher in the French language who ever came to this land of Carolina.” This reputation is supported by Thomas Hasell, pastor at St. Thomas and formerly a fellow student of LaPierre’s at “l’academie de Dublin,” [Trinity College] who remembered him as “the most recommendable of all the students for his good behaviour having never been censured.”

Personally amusing is this historical fact: “LaPierre, ‘having in [Carolina] no Book upon this Subject,’ composed a pamphlet entitled The Vindication of ye Christian Sabbath. This document has not survived and it is not known whether anyone ever read it, but it obviously had no influence whatsoever on the course of events.”

Passing on to dialogue once more... Earlier today I sought admittance to a small ward gathering. I thought it was well worth the effort to see whether it could offer peaceable Sabbath sociality. No one heard my knocking. Though “forced entry” is a repugnant idea to me, I tried the doorknob, but it seemed stuck. Then, thinking of how the Savior must feel, I couldn’t bring myself to ring the doorbell. I’m not into rude intrusions. “Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me” (Revelation 3:20). I stepped up the knocking a bit more. They were sufficiently loud that I could easily hear the clamor through the door, yet they could not hear me in return. So, thinking again about the Savior’s experience, I’d received the nominal invitation as well as a passing wish last week that I’d make it, but somehow it didn’t seem welcoming enough.

I left, helpless, because if they were unable to hear me at the volume I had to offer, I already knew it was not the type of setting in which I could express myself. Such noisome festivity was not my kind of thing anyhow. Immediately after that failed attempt, I came home to hear Elder Neuenschwander paint an excellent character sketch of the Savior, in view of crowds and leadership. I similarly enjoyed Elder Zwick’s remarks. Now, it’s hardly a perfect analogy—just a glimpse into how I try to gather lessons from everything. I certainly do not intend to roundly condemn. Having made the venture on a sacred day, made holier by counsel with men of God, it was an interesting experience to turn in sadness from the company of peers back into the full and beautiful light of day.

The price of leadership is loneliness. The price of adherence to conscience is loneliness. The price of adherence to principle is loneliness. I think it is inescapable. The Savior of the world was a man who walked in loneliness. (Teachings of Gordon B. Hinckley, 304)

There is still always one form of dialogue which one can fall back upon:

Prayer is not artful monologue
Of voice uplifted from the sod;
It is Love's tender dialogue
Between the soul and God. (John Richard Moreland, in Jack M. Lyon, Linda Ririe Gundry, Jay A. Parry, and Devan Jensen, ed., Poems That Lift the Soul [Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Company (Shadow Mountain), 1998], 259)

If men do not suit you, make God your friend. He says, "Cursed is he that putteth his trust in man, or maketh flesh his arm." The man that trusts in his fellow man is likely to be deceived. Men will fail; husbands will fail; wives will fail; children will fail; parents will fail; but God never fails. (George Q. Cannon, CD, 2:334)

Leaving off that essential dialogue between lonely disciples and God, and entering the essential dialogue between humankind.... I left the doorstep today in part because of what I wrote on January 20, 2003 concerning a once-standard Sunday evening practice at BYU following ward prayer, which I was hardly surprised to see cancelled for reverence reasons in our stake:

Relief from Linger Longer has been incredible. . . . Linger Longer fits my “theological” definition of hell very neatly. I can be an intensely active member without subjecting myself to competitions the very rules of which torment me. Not all that is religious is social, and by all means not all that is social is religious.

I’ve told myself for some time that “the first time around” with dating I endured all sorts of things to which I am not partial, seriously believing that I’d find my type of person while engaged in what were not my type of activities. The second time around I am not so concerned about that as I am proper dialogue at proper times and places.

For this reason, whatever young single adult events I tackle I only do so on my own terms. Even in elementary school, there was a time in P.E. when I could not do what everyone else was doing, so I sat on the steps and finished reading Bulfinch’s Mythology. (My favorite was Sir Bedivere, who remained with Arthur to the end and, though it’s too difficult to find online, it seems he was one of those granted a view of the Holy Grail on account of his purity of heart.) If I do so today, I hope people are not offended; it suggests momentary inaccessibility to the event, not my own distancing from all the participants. I’m a grownup now, with a mode of transportation. I could always go home and read, if that was my sole intent! It would just be foolish for me to be caught with nothing to do when in need of passing some time. Once upon a time, people would engage me in conversation, but that seems to be a dying art. Instead, they get stuck on the notion that I need additional invitations to the sport at hand. As a youth, some kindly missionaries launched into a discussion about 3 Nephi with me. Nowadays, it’s easier when people ask me what I’m reading to simply show them the cover, since they’re so seldom interested. (One of my readers gets extra credit points for having at one point expressed genuine interest!)

Now I must set the stage for describing an event at which I have ever and always found dialogue nigh unto impossible: the dance. I once thought this was on account of my poor hearing, although it seemed odd that the music hurt my ears all the same. However, with the restoration of my hearing, I am positively astonished at the environment of choice. In coming decades, I expect some individuals’ hearing loss on its way down to pass my own. ;-)

Is it so surprising that a loud and shrill society has its way on the dance floor? Once upon a time, I received still more blank looks when I oversaw activities in a broad setting and proposed that we needed to start holding dances, but for a change we should give ALL of the guidelines the “strict attention” that the Church Handbook of Instructions requests. If a violation cannot be readily corrected, we have no more warrant for holding such an event under Church auspices. It was with considerable wonderment in my BYU apartment that I’d first read the part of the handbook (printed at that time in the December 2002 Ensign, 51, and confirmed to be no different today) specifying: “The beat of the music, whether instrumental or vocal, should not overshadow the melody. Music volume should be low enough so two people standing side by side can hear each other as they carry on normal conversation.” Pray don’t think me naive and oblivious; I’ve had nice girls at dances take off their shoes—bad move, on their part, as I might as well be “Lefty”—and one even got on her knees, and that didn’t help the conversational coherence much. Among other afflictions, that one is here clarified:

Volume intensifies the excitement of all music, but as anyone in the music business knows, it is a "hype." It covers up poor musicianship. When auditioning groups for recording, I would often say, "Okay, I know how loudly you can play, now let's hear how well you can play." In short, "volume covereth a multitude of sins." (Lex de Azevedo, Pop Music & Morality [North Hollywood, CA: Embryo Books, 1982], 69)

A church-related source warns just what a multitude of sins might be covered:

The remaining factor is concerned with a combination of loudness, rhythm (“beat”), tempo, the emotional fervor of the performers, and other elements. This combination is called intensity. The intensity of a musical performance is what affects the responses of those listening to it probably more than other factors. . . .

Intensity can be a special problem at a dance. When dance music is wild and uncontrolled, the dancers may become emotionally overstimulated. At such times they tend to let physical responses and gestures be controlled by the music instead of by their personal wills. Taken to the extreme, this leads to wild and suggestive movements. . . .

Often, lowering the volume reduces most of the problem. . . .

As a suggested guideline for dances, it is recommended that music should not dominate to the point that conversation is impossible. . . .

As we engage in a dialogue with our young people, we must be understanding and look at the issue from their point of view, but it is also important to be forthright and not compromise principles of righteousness. As Elder Packer said in his General Conference talk: “It is not the privilege of those called as leaders to slide the Church about as though it were on casters, hoping to put it into the path that men or youth seem already to be traveling.” (Larry Bastian, chairman of the Youth Committee of the Church Music Department, Ensign, Apr. 1974, 38)

With a host of other clearly-labeled and oft-neglected guidelines, including dress and appearance, lyrics, and lighting (manipulation included)—all of which should contribute to a Spirit-filled atmosphere—it’s not remarkable that many dances have elicited President Benson’s sharp rebuke:

Youth leaders, are you holding aloft our standards, or have you compromised them for the lowest common denominator in order to appease the deceived or vile within the Church? Are the dances and music in your cultural halls virtuous, lovely, praiseworthy, and of good report (Article of Faith 13), or do they represent a modern Sodom with short skirts, loud beat, strobe lights, and darkness? (TETB, 323)

I don’t merely offer this commentary as an outside observer. I’ve had a very long history of a love/hate relationship with dances. In 1996 I had to turn down a kind girl’s request, on account of foot surgery, but I wrote in my journal:

Yet in the same breath I must here confess one thing. Only here will I do so. I indirectly got what I prayed for. Feeling bad on that night, after many a girl's choice dance, I said a prayer in my heart that I needed an occurrence that would lift me up soon or I would leave, never again to return to a dance. So He sent ------.

Early in 1997, one of the UVSC (UVSU?) institute student representatives spent a good part of her evening taking me around to meet everyone and trying to persuade me to be involved. When she finally saw that I was going to leave, she told me something incredibly complimentary. She did not know that in order to be consistent with the quality she praised, I felt compelled to depart. A few months later I had a similar experience from the BYU dorms with a dance instructor really taking personal time on me. (Around this time my sister said she hoped I didn’t seriously dance the way I just had in front of her—evidently I do something strange with my face as I get caught up in the intensity!) Just before my mission I very nervously had no idea what to do about a girl who came up again after the dancing just to make sure I remembered to come get a haircut from her.

Regardless, to cut things short, I’ll summarize this New Year’s experience from an extract:

20 feet away from the building, with all gym doors closed and the double set of glass doors, I still felt the loud music. As I walked in, there was a girl from my ward unhappily crouched in a chair in the far left corner. I said hello cheerily and wandered through the periphery of the rioting, er, riotous living, er, New Year’s party. One could but choose between loud video gaming or cramped and at least equally noisy dancing. So I went back out to my car and retrieved Elder Lund’s book, Hearing the Voice of the Lord, that Dad got me for Christmas. (I had given them the opportunity of surprising me upfront with entertainment worth my while.)

I sat in the available foyer seat by the girl from my ward and read a few pages. Glancing at my watch, I turned to ask her how they’d planned on transitioning to breakfast (something no doubt calmer, more civil, and quieter). . . .

In the dancing area I pulled a chair against a wall, to accomplish another goal: that of exposure, regardless of success. . . . One recently returned missionary, named Heath (or possibly Keith) took time to talk to me. Some other men sat alone, looking miserable. But my mission that night pertained solely to females, so I remained where I was. Strange as they thought I was, at least I had something to show for the evening. I read the first 38 pages of Elder Lund’s book, tuning out the raucous background, and even laughing aloud at a statement on page 6: “We know that the Lord will never lead us astray or give us untruth, but how can we learn to distinguish His voice from the banging clamor all around us?” I wasn’t about to waste an evening in isolated unhappiness! I was also reminded of a dance hosted in an Elms apartment, with the usual pulsating music and boisterous bodies packed together in darkness. All I said to one roommate, who couldn’t get me to stay: “One would think that to those acquainted with the Holy Ghost, such is an uncomfortable environment.” I similarly stand on my remark that perhaps only two church dances in my life have actually conformed [completely] to Church guidelines. Plus, when the lights came on, people scurried out of the open area, much like cockroaches. “The Lord God worketh not in darkness.”

I realize that this marks me as one of the more unusual people on the planet. Never mind that. In fact, I believe I promised something far funnier in this ?-part series. My plan is to introduce a homage to Sir Mister Landlord Sir by sharing witty dialogues I’ve encountered. As he discerned with his blog entry on Jacob 5, the Book of Mormon is rife with excellent dialogues.

I’m occasionally surprised at how rudely prophets seem to interact with certain people. I hope it doesn’t seem warped that I’m amused by the manner in which they sometimes take charge of the conversations, interrupting people before they can even answer the question just posed to them, and even peppering their sermon with a few choice—albeit accurate—insults. I’ve highlighted a block in my scriptures that was utilized today: “I will not recall the words which I have spoken unto you concerning this people, for they are true” (Mosiah 17:9).

In terms of the necessary backbone for discipleship, this is how I once introduced one of my favorite scriptures (and explained why I like it):

Yet “all men were offended because of” Enoch (Moses 6:37). This is because he preached concerning Jesus Christ, “a rock of offence” (Isa. 8:14). Passive offense is taken by the wicked. Nephi said, “I knew that I had spoken hard things against the wicked, according to the truth; and the righteous have I justified, and testified that they should be lifted up at the last day; wherefore, the guilty taketh the truth to be hard, for it cutteth them to the very center” (1 Ne. 16:2). The people in Alma’s time were also “offended because of the strictness of the word” (Alma 35:15). Remember that offense does not mean we must silence ourselves. Nor, however, is offense as an objective or means very appropriate; if offense is taken, rather than given, though, it becomes the burden of the other party. Just as the gospel is shocking enough on its own merits, it is offensive enough without our stooping to disagreeable methods of teaching it. The Savior said, “Blessed is he, whosoever shall not be offended in me” (Matt. 11:6).

Elder Packer spoke about those who choose to be offended: “Some few within the Church, openly or perhaps far worse, in the darkness of anonymity, reproach their leaders in the wards and stakes and in the Church, seeking to make them ‘an offender for a word,’ as Isaiah said.” Certainly, we should never allow ourselves to be too easily offended—that opens the door for hypocrisy. The Lord’s messengers cannot change the message to make it less offensive, since it savors of life and salvation to those who believe. President Kimball declared, “Church leaders are not able, each time we teach you, to offer a new or more glamorous route that will lead back to the presence of our Heavenly Father. The route remains the same. Hence, encouragement must often be given concerning the same things and warnings must be repeated. Just because a truth is repeated does not make that truth any less important or true.” Joseph Smith said, “It mattereth not whether the principle is popular or unpopular, I will always maintain a true principle, even if I stand alone in it.” Jesus has also informed His disciples, “The world cannot hate you; but me it hateth, because I testify of it, that the works thereof are evil” (John 7:7). It would be assuming a great deal if we took things personally. The world hates Him whose glad tidings we bear.

The prophets often ask heaven “how long” they must endure their mission among such a wickedly ripened people, “for behold, a continual scene of wickedness and abominations has been before mine eyes ever since I have been sufficient to behold the ways of man” (Morm. 2:18).

But I definitely digress now. Rolling out the red carpet for funny dialogues....ta da....here are two examples from a phone conversation last month with a USAA representative.

Me: I’ve been very happy with USAA.
Him: Yes, you’ve been with us 16 years.
Me: That won’t be changing.
Him: Aaaactually, next year it’ll be 17 years.
Me: You got me there.

(This one is in paraphrastic form. You don’t know the conversation’s worth quoting until it’s over.)

Him: Are you sure you don’t want your Roth funds in a more volatile account?
Me: This is all I’m comfortable with right now.
Him: You do realize at your age you can stand some market risk exposure.
Me: I have other diversified funds.
Him: Oh, yeah! With us...
Me: And elsewhere.
Him: Hm. Your CD was locked in at only 4.75%. You realize the rates have all fallen. You won’t get any kind of rate with a money market.
Me: Yes, well, that CD sure did outperform the market.
Him: *silence*

I suppose I’ll end with a more religiously instructive dialogue, not my own.

Throughout the dating years of the Lee girls, many situations brought teaching lessons from a father who consistently taught that commandments were to be lived without compromise, regardless of circumstances. One illustration occurred in Maurine's dating experience, the memory of which provided some good chuckles for the family for years to come. Helen recounts:

It was a Sunday afternoon in early June, and Maurine had accepted a date earlier in the week from a young man she had not been dating for long. This fellow called her after our mid-day dinner to make final their plans. The conversation went something like this:

"Hi! What would you like to do today?"
"Well, what did you have in mind?"
"Let's see . . . it's so warm and beautiful today, and since we haven't been out to Black Rock Beach on Great Salt Lake yet this year, how about going there to get some sun?"
"Gee, I'm sorry, but I don't think my father would approve of that. Could we think of something else?"
"Well, there's a new show at the Centre Theatre. Would you like to go there?"
"I'm really sorry, but we've never been allowed to go to shows on Sunday. Maybe there's another possibility."
"Hmmm . . . How would it be to go hiking up the canyon? Surely there's nothing wrong with that?"
"I hate to tell you this, but I know Dad wouldn't think that hiking is an acceptable Sunday activity either. I hope you understand. Is there another alternative?"
(With great disgust and sarcasm): "Oh, sure! Why don't you just ask your Dad if there's a good rousing funeral we could go to somewhere!"
Thus, it was humorous as well as stressful at times for the teenagers growing up in this home of an Apostle as social events came into conflict with family and Church mores, but the girls met with unyielding but comfortably consistent guidance from their parents. With his policy of no compromise between right and wrong, Harold B. Lee held the reins tightly but lovingly. His daughters knew that they had limits, and they tried to live within them. (L. Brent Goates, Harold B. Lee: Prophet & Seer [Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Company, 1985], 130)