How Do We Use Doctrines the Way the Spirit Does?

In the October 2017 General Conference, Dallin H. Oaks said, “I believe our attitude toward and use of the family proclamation is [a] test for this generation.” This came after a discussion of how the Lord calls His people to “be not conformed to this world” (Romans 12:2). President Oaks included in his discussion the laws that allowed gay marriage in opposition to the statement in the family proclamation that marriage is between a man and a woman.

For many, the talk was a battle line being drawn between the Church’s teachings on eternal marriage and the increasing advocacy for gay marriage and other gay rights found in governments and societies through out the world. This battle has been going on for quite a while, even before Elder Oaks’ talk in 2017, and it has been hurting my heart for decades.

I took these words to the Lord and asked Him what I was supposed to do with this. I love God, I love this Church, I believe in revelation through Prophets and Apostles. And I fiercely love my gay and transgender family members and friends. I do not like battle lines. I do not think it is appropriate or the will of God for me to deny love to any of His children. So, what do I do when others around me insist on waging war?

I got stuck on Elder Oaks’ phrasing, “our use of,” and thought, how does the Spirit use the family proclamation?

I went to a small liberal arts women’s college in southern California. The LGBTQ+ Allies group was the largest student group on campus. Everyone was a member. Joining the group didn’t necessarily mean participating in rallies or events; it was a statement that you would not participate in or allow discrimination against or harassment of LGBTQ+ students. This was the atmosphere of the entire school–all were welcome and all were safe.

Los Angeles was near enough to our school that students would often take trips there on the weekend and big news from LA impacted our campus life. One night, a gay man was attacked after leaving a bar in LA and beaten to death. This news rocked our campus. LGBTQ+ students no longer felt safe leaving campus and the student group rallied around them to make campus a safe and comforting place to ease their fears and sadness.

A day or two later, we heard that the murderers were three young evangelical men who claimed they committed their crime in the name of Christianity. Those three men waited and watched the gay bar all night. If men left in groups or pairs, they did not attack. They didn’t want a fight, they wanted to kill, so they waited for a man to leave alone and then committed their crime.

All of the fear and sadness on campus erupted into rage. I was furious that such a heinous act was associated with my God. To me, this is a blasphemy of epic proportions worthy of all the fires of hell. But my anger turned to fear as I realized that many of my fellow students directed their rage at Christianity and any religion that taught anti-gay sentiment. I defended myself by saying, “Not my God! I do not believe those men were true Christians. They perverted the teachings to do what they wanted.” But still I feared, and I worried, and I questioned.

One Sunday, my friend Nichola shared her experience. Before church, she was eating breakfast in the cafeteria with her friends when this news story came up. They became angry, insulting religions and religious people. Nichola became uncomfortable and wanted to leave. One of her friends turned to her and asked, “What about your church? What do they teach about homosexuality?”

Nichola said she froze. Her brain completely shut down because she didn’t know what to say. And then words started flowing from her mouth. As she recounted this story in Relief Society, she said she didn’t even remember what she said exactly because her brain was in shock, but she knew that it was from the family proclamation. She knew that the Spirit, through her, was basically explaining that we were all a part of God’s family, we all existed before this life and lived with God, our families here are eternal and will be with us when we return to God again. The Spirit taught our eternal identities and the divinity of families.

When Nichola finished, her friends were all staring at her in a stunned silence. One friend said, “That’s actually one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard.”

As I remembered this moment and asked, how does the Spirit use the family proclamation? I knew the answer.

When the Spirit teaches the family proclamation, it is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard. The Spirit uses gospel truths to comfort, lift, and inspire.

If we use the teachings of Christ to destroy or belittle, we are doing it wrong. We are committing blasphemy if we use the gospel of Christ to destroy instead of build.

I think Elder Oaks was right. Our attitude towards and use of the family proclamation is a test for our generation. Will we learn it and teach it by the Spirit or some other way? Will we love and use that love to call down revelation and guidance? Or will we abandon love and allow fear and confusion to become to anger and hate?

Our battle is not between gays and Christians; it is a continuation of the eternal battle between fear and love.

I know God loves all of His children. I believe that Prophets and Apostles receive revelation from God. And I believe that God will yet reveal many great and important truths. But He will not do that if we do not love, if we are not ready to hear, if we are not using His revelations properly and with His Spirit.

Power IN the Priesthood

A teacher once asked in a Relief Society lesson, “What have you gained from the gospel?” My testimony was not great at the time so I thought I would struggle to find an answer. Instead, the answer confidence came quickly to mind. My favorite blessing in the gospel is the added confidence and power I feel when I have the Spirit.

Perhaps it is because I have often felt powerless and useless that this is what I focus on the most in the gospel. I want to find all the ways to increase my power. This might also be why priesthood has been a difficult gospel topic for me.

 About a year and a half after I returned from my mission, I was in a Sacrament Meeting listening to a man talk about the priesthood. He went over the two branches, the different offices and blessings, all the things I had heard before. He kept using the phrase, “Power of the Priesthood” repeatedly. “By the power of the priesthood, we can do this,” and “with the power of the priesthood, we can do that.” It started to make me mad.

I kept thinking that priesthood power was this separate and special kind of power that I would never have because I would never hold a priesthood key. Did that mean that this man was more powerful than me? Even after all I had done to learn and grow, why was I still unworthy of this other power when any man, even a 12-year-old boy, could have it?

That’s not true, I thought. I know I have power. No one can tell me I don’t have power.

I was thinking of that experience I had in the cemetery as a young missionary. I had felt the darkness and then I had been surrounded by light and I saw myself carrying that light and pushing back the darkness. The Lord had told me then that my light would always be stronger than the darkness, and I had no cause to fear. I knew I had power.

As I remembered this in that Sacrament Meeting, the image of myself in my mind changed slightly. Instead of the light emanating out from me at the center, the light was a column reaching up into heaven. I stood within the base of that column and pulled down light from heaven as fast as I could because I wanted so much of it.

The Spirit whispered, there is Power IN the Priesthood.

I understood, in that moment, that I stood in a conduit that connected me to heaven. The breadth and strength of that conduit determined how much and how fast I could gather light and power from heaven. The conduit was made of priesthood. Each covenant I made, each blessing I received, each calling I accepted and for which I was set apart, added to the walls of my conduit.

Even in only that one event from my mission, I could see the support of the priesthood. I prepared myself by making covenants sealed by the Melchizedek Priesthood. I had been called to a specific Mission by Apostles with priesthood. I was set apart as a missionary by my Stake President with priesthood. I was assigned to a specific area and trainer by my Mission President who had priesthood. That morning, I was given a priesthood blessing of comfort and counsel by my Zone Leader who exercised his priesthood keys. I was surrounded and supported by priesthood. Because of priesthood, I had power. That is the purpose.

Priesthood keys were not given to men so that men could have priesthood power. Priesthood keys were given to the children of god so that the power of God could cover and bless all of God’s children.

There is so much that makes us feel powerless in this world. My favorite part of spirituality, the greatest blessing from my faith, is the development of my personal spiritual power. This is also my hope for all of God’s children. May you find your power.

The Strait and Narrow Path is Not Straight

One of the most famous and talked about sections in the first book of Nephi is Lehi’s vision of the Tree of Life along with Nephi’s subsequent vision and explanation of what his father saw. We speak about this vision a lot, and rightly so, as there is so very much to learn from it. This time, however, I noticed a few things that we have been missing or getting wrong.

In every picture or representation of the vision that I have seen, there is a straight path with a straight rod next to it, when the scripture says, “I also beheld a strait and narrow path, which came along by the rod of iron, even to the tree by which I stood.” The two homophones, straight and strait, have very different definitions and we should really stop confusing the two. We keep thinking of the path as straight, picturing a road that has no curves, bends or even hills. One can very clearly see the end from the beginning. A strait, on the other hand is a difficult situation, such as “dire straits,” or when speaking of a path, one might think of a narrow passage of water, such as the Bering Strait or the Strait of Magellan. The path is tight, constricting, and difficult to navigate. I think the use of the word strait in this vision is purposeful and far more accurate.

The path to the tree of life is not straightforward. We want to think that it is. Make the right covenants, check the right boxes, just be obedient and stop wandering. In 2nd Nephi, chapter 4, Nephi prays and asks God to make his paths straight, and don’t we all want that. A simple path with no surprises and a clear destination. But Nephi saw the vision and he knows the path is strait. The purpose of those covenants is to connect you with the Holy Ghost, the purpose of those commandments is to teach you to receive revelation and seek the Spirit. The Spirit will help you navigate. The scriptures are your map and guide, but your path is still difficult. Your situation will require you to listen to your navigator and follow the bends and turns. You won’t always see the end from the beginning. 

Thinking of the path this way has also helped me to correct my interpretation of the iron rod, which is stated to be the word of God. We talk about it as if that means a list of the commandments we follow, but to me that is the title of revelation. Commandments are contained within revelations, but there is so much more. Perhaps, even more important are the personal commandments and directions we receive through revelation. In order to get through the mists of darkness and stay on a strait path, I have to receive revelation and do what the Spirit tells me to do, which will not necessarily be what the Spirit told Joe, or Bob, or Mary. The scriptures will help me learn how to connect with the Spirit and interpret the promptings and directions, but I still need to be getting my own directions.

I worry for those that think the path is straight and that “hold to the rod” means “just do what I told you to do” because they also then misinterpret the large and spacious building which represents the pride of the world. I’ve heard some people speak of their position on the path with a lot of pride and mocking towards those people in the building, and isn’t that a bit ironic and hypocritical? In the vision, the people in the building are mocking those at the tree. In real life, I’ve seen a lot of people at the tree point their mocking fingers at the building not realizing that they are just as consumed with pride as those they attempt to scorn.

There have definitely been times when I’ve felt pressure from friends to do things that weren’t aligned with my beliefs. I did hold on to that vision of myself at the tree and think, if they mock me, it won’t matter because I’m eating fruit that is more precious than anything they could offer. The allegory is helpful when you’re trying to visualize yourself working towards a desired goal and not falling for discouragement from people that don’t understand what you’re doing. I’ve also learned that my real friends do not mock me even if they hold different beliefs. If I’m truly partaking of the fruit of the Tree of Life—the love of God—I won’t mock them either. Let’s be careful not to crush the tree with our own building of pride.

This is easier to do when you remember that you are walking on a strait path you need constant revelation to navigate. You have to stay humble; you have to keep listening, and the invitation for others to join you must always remain open.

Revelation, the Cure for Whining

What is the real difference between Nephi and his brothers Laman and Lemuel? We could also ask, what is the difference between someone who is happy in a church and someone who is not. When these stories are taught there is an emphasis on obedience and cheerful work without murmuring. Perhaps I am prone to disobedience and complaining, but I do not find these lessons encouraging for myself. I am too often a Laman. One of the most frequent admonitions I remember from my mother is, “no whining.” But is whining what really makes Laman and Lemuel the epitome of all that is wicked and evil?

After their father, Lehi, was told by the Lord to leave Jerusalem because it was going to be destroyed, he prepared his family to go into the wilderness. The entire family obeyed and went. Laman and Lemuel, the oldest sons, complained and criticized their father. Nephi says they did this because “they knew not the dealings of that God who had created them.” Nephi describes his own reaction to his father’s demands as such:

     And it came to pass that I, Nephi, being exceedingly young, nevertheless being large in stature, and also having great desires to know of the mysteries of God, wherefore, I did cry unto the Lord; and behold he did visit me, and did soften my heart that I did believe all the words which had been spoken by my father; wherefore, I did not rebel against him like unto my brothers. 

1 Ne 2:16

While I don’t know why Nephi feels it important to tell us of his large stature (my best guess is that he’s a teenager), I do love his description of his first recorded revelation. He was young and had a desire to know. I too found it a lot easier to receive revelation when I was younger. My desires to learn and my simple curiosities were just that—simple. Now they are easily clouded with confusion, conflicting desires and thoughts, even my own pride and wish to be right. Nephi is not describing anything grand either. Later, he will receive visions, ministering angels, and huge assignments from the Lord. But here, this first one he tells us about was just a softening, a heartfelt belief. It sounds so small, yet this is what stopped his own murmuring and rebellion.

We don’t know about Laman and Lemuel’s history with personal revelation. Did they have some when they were young and then doubt them when they got older? Did they try but never get an answer? I have experienced both of these and can testify that they do lead to extreme frustration. Revelation is not always simple. As a scientist, I like things that follow a protocol and are repeatable. If it can’t be repeated by another person, then it’s not valid or the interpretation is incorrect. If I can’t repeat an experiment or a procedure, I will keep trying, looking for things I might be doing wrong, blaming myself or my own lack of skill. Until, I’m so sick of blaming myself that I either give up entirely or lash out at the original procedure. It is so easy for me to see myself in Laman and Lemuel.

In my quest to please my mother and stop whining, I have thought about the importance of personal revelation. To me it is the difference between being forced to do something by an outside force and choosing to do something with your own power and your own motivations. It is always worth it to take some time and consider why you do or do not want to do a particular thing or what your goal is from a particular project regardless of the stated goals of other people.

My church has a rich history of revelation from the Lord and we love that history particularly because it declares that the heavens are not closed, and that revelation is possible. I think this knowledge and an ability to receive revelation for oneself are essential for a healthy practice of a living religion. While my church has this belief, it does not mean we are free from blocks to personal revelation. I am a Laman that constantly strives to seek revelation and to be a little more like Nephi. I have found help to do so within the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I have friends and family who have left the Church and found other traditions and structures to help them find the revelation they seek. They were Lamans like me and they also sought revelation to be more like Nephi. They found that help in other churches and other traditions. I still count them as righteous and highly favored of the Lord.

All of Lehi’s sons were obedient. Nephi did it without complaining because it was his choice and he didn’t feel forced. Obedience is not the key difference, revelation is. I applaud all of my brothers and sisters that are able to find revelation, wherever in the wilderness they may be. Blessed is she that can find joy and stop whining.

Destruction as a Path to Salvation and the Importance of Context

It’s been so long since I’ve posted regularly, mostly because we have been battling a lot of different illnesses at our house this winter. Nothing major, just a lot of viruses and infections, one right after the other. I did a lot of reading (and a lot of Netflix bingeing) but did not have the mental energy and focus to write. I did find a lot of interesting things in my reading, especially as I tried to stay with the Come Follow Me curriculum put out by my church. I really wanted to write down and work out some of my ideas, even though the curriculum is now far past this point in the reading. I hope you’ll understand as I go back to the beginning and try to catch up to the study schedule. 

I usually study and read by topic and so it’s very easy for me to fall into the excuse that I’ve read the Book of Mormon many times before, I’m familiar with the stories and thus do not need to read them from cover to cover. This year, I want to read it straight through and see it again as a whole. Everything has a context and seeing that context is important in arriving at an understanding of the intended message. While I always try to look for the context of each individual verse as I study (for example, who is speaking and to whom), it is just as important to see that story within the full arc of the Book of Mormon and the book itself within the full scriptural cannon and the story of the Restoration. This is essential for the Book of Mormon and that’s obvious from the very beginning.

The first grand vision and revelation in the Book of Mormon is given to Lehi but is written by his son Nephi, who is reportedly young—the youngest of four brothers. Nephi writes that his father was worried for the people of Jerusalem and prayed for them. He saw a pillar of fire, was carried away by the Spirit and saw the heavens open. He was given a book and read about the destruction of Jerusalem. After reading the book, Lehi exclaimed, “Great and marvelous are thy works, O Lord God Almighty! Thy throne is high in the heavens, and thy power, and goodness, and mercy are over all the inhabitants of the earth; and, because thou art merciful, thou wilt not suffer those who come unto thee that they shall perish!”

I stopped here for a second and wondered, is he including the destruction of Jerusalem in his praise for great and marvelous works? How could someone glory in the destruction of another? I wondered if Lehi might be a bit vindictive in his praise of the Lord, believing that the people of Jerusalem deserved to be destroyed and he deserved to be saved, thus his description of the Lord’s great mercy. This attitude is not all that hard to imagine. I’m sure we’ve all seen it or even felt it from time to time. We feel safe, maybe even jubilant, when we avoid catastrophe. And when we’ve avoided catastrophe because of our own work and choices, we are proud. Bad people should have bad things happen to them, right? Except, aren’t we all bad people at some point? 

Then I remembered that Lehi is not the only prophet to see or to prophecy about the destruction of an entire people. These prophets also praised God for his mercy because they saw the purpose of the destruction and how it fit into a greater plan. As I thought of even my own experience in learning from God that something bad was going to happen, I realized that God doesn’t show such things in isolation. He comforts and teaches. In my experience, God is not vindictive or petty but He does lead people down paths. We have a great deal of choice when it comes to which path we walk, but He also bends the roads and alters the direction to help us reach a favorable destination. I think Lehi and other prophets praised God’s mercy even after learning of destruction because they saw the part it played in their ultimate salvation.

We don’t know the entirety of Lehi’s vision—if he saw God’s full plan for Jerusalem or not. We only have an account written by his young son in a handful of verses. Later in the book it will become obvious that one small account of a vision is never enough to understand the entirety of it and that Nephi himself had a lot to learn about the meaning of mercy. 

I think this particular verse made me stop because I have seen so many examples over the years of people taking one thing and emphasizing it to the point that they forget to balance it with all of the other perspectives, stories, and lessons with in the Book of Mormon. This one verse (and it’s not entirely alone), when misconstrued and context ignored, can easily lead to a puffed up pride that is dangerous and destructive. The truth is, the Jews at Jerusalem were destroyed but then brought back again. Their history is rich and long and the love God has for them runs deep. We must also never forget that Lehi and his immediate family may have avoided destruction, but the nations that came from them did not. Prophecies about the destruction of Nephi’s people began quite quickly, and they were also welcomed with praise by the prophets that foretold them.

While the Book of Mormon does guide readers in how to follow God, it would be a fatal mistake to interpret the destruction in these stories as horrifically final when the Book of Mormon’s very existence stands as a testimony that destruction is never the end. The fact that we continue, that there is more to the story, is the mercy of God.

Moving Past the Form of Godliness to Claim the Power Thereof

My church rotates among our four main books of scriptures every year, and this year’s focus is the Book of Mormon. To begin this year’s study of the Book of Mormon, I started by reading Joseph Smith’s account of what we now call the first vision. I have read his account many times and always find myself reacting to it in a mixture of ways. Sometimes I am awestruck and find the whole thing so amazingly beautiful. Other times I find myself getting oddly jealous that someone else should be given clarity when I seek for it and find so little. This in turn makes me angry and the whole thing becomes simply too fantastical to be believed.

What most notably struck me this time was his description of what the ministers were doing in his community. He says, “The Presbyterians were most decided against the Baptists and Methodists, and used all the powers of both reason and sophistry to prove their errors, or, at least, to make people think they were in error. On the other hand, the Baptists and Methodists in their turn were equally zealous in endeavoring to establish their own tenets and disprove all others.”  This religious fervor had devolved into a prideful contest among the ministers. A battle ground had developed, where their desire to be right and to debate took up everything else. 

It was this fighting, a “war of words and tumult of opinions,” as Joseph calls it, that prompted his own religious and spiritual journey to discover who was right. As the ministers fought over right and wrong doctrine and interpretations of doctrine, this is the mindset Joseph started with. One must be right and all the others wrong. There must be an answer, an undeniable truth beneath it all. Yet, because they all used the Bible to support their own theories and various interpretations, Joseph did not feel that the Bible alone would be able to solve his dilemma. He went and asked God and looked for revelation. He received a revelation and reported that the Lord said to him, “they draw near to me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me…having a form of godliness, but they deny the power thereof.”

Being, myself, in a bit of a tumult lately about what to do, how to be faithful in light of various personal struggles and frustrations, I began to wonder more about the actual power of godliness that differs from having merely the form of it. 

It is not that hard to imagine this contest for converts to one’s own faith as it continues in many circles today. There are many members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints who still maintain this mindset—that missionary work is a war and the prize converts, or that one merely need to be right in the facts in order to have power. But if all of these ministers quoted the Bible, debated the Bible, and cared so much for the word of God yet received only the form and not the power, how important is it to be right?

If facts are only the form, what is the actual power?  

I was once asked what I gain from religion and after a moment I said, “Confidence.” At the end of the day, I believe religion and spirituality should be empowering. I don’t think facts or truth are unimportant, rather I don’t believe they are important in and of themselves. How important is it to have true doctrines? I think it depends on what you do with the doctrines you have, how you live the values you have chosen to believe in. 

Because I believe God’s purpose is to help me get stronger, that is what I see when I look at my doctrines and it’s how I use them. Because I believe God has the same purpose for everyone, I cannot use doctrines to tear down another. To deny them the power of God is to lose it myself. To use anything I consider a revelation to bolster my pride or to tear down another is to use it for the exact opposite of its actual godly purpose. Truth is empowering when it helps you act with the power of God. And God is love. 

Are You a Perfectionist, or Do You Actually Want to be Perfect?

The definition of Perfect is one that often weighs on my mind. I think it is one of those words that is defined by the Lord in one way but used in a different way by our current society. Some speak it with adoration describing something so beautiful and wonderful it is beyond description. For others, it brings fear of overwhelming and unattainable standards. In trying to find a way to enjoy the beauty of perfection without being crushed by it, I’ve started to distinguish Perfectionism from actual Perfection.

I used to be excited about my perfectionism. I enjoyed designing the perfect masterpiece, doing the very best I could, or even performing the perfect experiment using all the proper controls and not forgetting a step so that everything would work just as it was supposed to do. I could focus for hours on what I wanted to accomplish, excited about the final product, and also thrilled when there was a problem to solve for it kept my mind fully engaged on something worthwhile and wonderful. I would get a tremendous rush when I finished something I was proud of, and that got me a good grade, but somehow, as I grew up, all of these things turned into a burden.

I first noticed that I could not be as fully engaged in my projects as I wanted to because there were so many of them. Mother’s with full lives, however, cannot cut out everything. There are so many things to try and do perfectly. I became impatient with myself for not moving faster, doing more, being better. The pictures in my head, my dreams of what I wanted to accomplish, seemed so far away. Problems were no longer exciting puzzles, but more indications that I lacked ability or talent. I couldn’t do anything the way it should be done. Eventually, projects became so daunting that I would abandon them. I was afraid to try.

In Christ’s sermon in Matthew chapter 5 he says, “Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.” This seems like a very tall order. In the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we emphasize that faith without works is dead and we do tend to keep ourselves very busy. However, defining Perfect, or Faith, or Value according to what I could do had become my problem.

President Nelson taught in a 1995 General Conference that the word perfect in this scripture was translated from the Greek word telios meaning complete, finished, fully developed. He continued by saying, “Please note that the word does not imply ‘freedom from error’; it implies ‘achieving a distant objective.’” In 2017, Elder Holland taught us to “strive for steady improvement without obsessing over…’toxic perfectionism.’” We are to look forward to perfection, to be patient and forgiving of shortcomings for we are not yet finished.

While I love these messages, and I do try to be more patient and gentler with myself, I still get frustrated. About a year ago, I looked around and noticed I had not finished anything in a very long time. I had started various projects and worked intermittently on them, but never completed them. And I realized that one of the fears of Perfectionism is that you won’t reach the end unless you do everything right. Where is my hope to come from that I will reach that “distant objective” if I’m stuck and I don’t know what to do?

I started again, determined to finish my goals, even if they still held errors. I simply wanted to finish because I thought these small things would be my progress markers and boost my confident that I could do larger ones. I told myself, Christen, just finish something-even if it’s flawed, it will be done. And I couldn’t. I found that my efforts never met my expectations of what I wanted, and thus held me back from getting any joy from any accomplishment. Were my standards too high? Did I need to lower my dreams, accept less from myself, just so I could finish something that didn’t make me happy anyway? I took a long look at what was actually holding me back. This is when I really started to see the difference between Perfectionism and actual Perfection.

The fear of Perfectionism still held me back because I kept thinking about what other people would say. When I presented my finished product, what would be my grade? Would they see my errors? I realized that I was trying to prove myself, individually, to others who were outside waiting to judge me. Perfectionism is very disconnecting. We are like neighbors throwing things at each other over a fence. I, striving to meet the expectations thrown at me, throw my projects out, only to have them thrown back with criticism or praise, probably a mixture of both. But I am never with my neighbors—we never actually work together. I work by myself and then await the judgement. And they do the same in their own way, in their own yard.

My favorite part of the intercessory prayer, found in John 17:21-23, is when Jesus pleads with the Father, “that they all may be one; as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in us;…that they may be made perfect in one.” As I have thought about all of this, I have come to the conclusion that Perfection and Unity go together hand in hand. I cannot be whole if I allow others to dictate what I should do at the expense of my own yearnings. Neither can I be whole without true compassion, the ability to learn from others such that they can fill the holes left from my own limitations. No one can be truly Perfect alone. The final achievement of this is after this life when we are reunited with God and loved ones in a way that cannot be fully accomplished here. That is our distant objective. Yet, we can find unity here and now and thus have the assurance that we are going the right way.

I’ve approached my projects again with a determination to finish them and do it correctly—not by looking for flaws but by looking for unity. What is the motivation behind this goal? What is the purpose of this project? Am I trying to create something I can hold up to others or am I trying to connect with others?

Unity with myself means that the goal must be mine and mine alone. That is not to say that my goals are selfish or that I’ve completely cut myself off from others. Rather, seeking someone’s praise is very different from seeking to help them or to be their friend. I make an effort to involve others in my goal. Asking for advice, learning from them. While their input changes the appearance of the final product and the methods to achieve it, the end goal is the same. And it’s easier to have patience when you can feel that it is working.

Unity is love, peace, patience, understanding, joy, strength, and friendship. Doesn’t that sound Perfect.

Know the Doctrine, Purpose of Commandments: Part 4

Christ said that if any one “will do His will, he shall know of the doctrine” (John 7:17). This is my favorite reason, my purpose, for keeping commandments, because there is a connection between learning and doing. Somethings you can learn theoretically or intellectually through study, but to know the nuances, details, and further implications, you have to do it. See it in action. Black and white becomes blazing technicolor when you live it.

The health code that I’ve mentioned before in parts 2 and 3 of this series is about how to take care of your physical body. While the Lord does promise physical health, He did not title it a health code. He called it a “word of wisdom” and among His promises of health are also promises of “wisdom and great treasures of knowledge” (D&C 89:19).

In Doctrine and Covenants section 130, verses 20-21 read: 

There is a law, irrevocably decreed in heaven before the foundations of this world, upon which all blessings are predicated—and when we obtain any blessings from God, it is by obedience to that law upon which it is predicated.  

But the verses 18-19, immediately preceding those oft quoted verses about obedience, say: 

Whatever principle of intelligence we attain unto in this life, it will rise with us in the resurrection. And if a person gains more knowledge and intelligence in this life through his diligence and obedience than another, he will have so much the advantage in the world to come.   

This has made me wonder, what if the blessing is the knowledge? What if each commandment is linked to a doctrine and by living that commandment you are gaining knowledge of that doctrine? 

 I do not think the Lord is merely testing our ability to form habits. Commandments are not arbitrary; they have a purpose. They are expressions of love for each other, for God, and they prepare us to live with Him again. We are ready for the kingdom of God when we can love as He loves, do as he does, and know what He knows.

Commandments are how we bring doctrines to life. We see them in full-scale technicolor reality and thereby learn things we could have never realized without living them.

I have done this, so far, in two ways. First, by learning a doctrine in the scriptures that I wanted to use in my life and then purposefully living the commandment that could best bring it into my life. Second, by living the commandment and openly asking God to teach me how to do it better and why I’m doing it. 

For the first example, when I prayed about my mother’s breast cancer, I wanted to know the will of God, if she would be healed or not. The full story is here and here, but essentially I learned in an Institute lesson that the Father-child relationship we share with God means that when we pray we can be united with Him and our wills aligned as one. My Institute teacher used Enos as an example and I went home and followed that example as best I could. I prayed with greater consistency than ever before and with more purpose and sensitivity. In the end, I learned the doctrine about my connection to God, His love for me, His awareness of me, and His willingness to teach and show me His will such that I would love it and accept it as my own. This doctrine is no longer a story in the scriptures for me—it is my own story and it is a part of my foundation.

Many years after this, my step-father was undergoing a surgery that had him feeling very scared. I was living too far away to go home to help him, but I wanted to help, and I wanted to be there for him however I could. I thought of fasting and the promises of fasting in the scriptures, but, to be honest, I hated fasting. I would often have blood sugar problems that left me feeling faint, and it felt like torture. I simply never understood how torturing myself would please God and earn me blessings. I wanted to fast for my step-father, and I asked Heavenly Father to teach me how to do it correctly and to help me understand why the heck I’m even doing it and how it works. 

As I went through that day, focused on my fast, on my step-father, and the Spirit helping me understand it, I learned about the connection between the physical and the spiritual. The weaknesses that they each have at times but how they can work together to strengthen the other. I learned to love fasting because I loved my spirit and my body in a new way because they were connected in a new way. The doctrine of our temple bodies is not an abstract idea any longer. For me, it is reality and it is another stone in my foundation. 

Commandments as a list of “to-do’s” leaves me overwhelmed. Commandments as a list of “should’s” and “should not’s” leads to a binding perfectionism in which I will inevitably fall short and then berate myself. Commandments as learning tools helps me stay in a growth mindset. I see myself as a growing thing—not a broken one, not a weak one, not a stupid one. If something is too hard, I’m not there yet, but given time and a little more experience, I will be. I can keep learning “line upon line, precept upon precept” (D&C 98:12) and trust God when He says I do not have to run faster than I am able (D&C 10:4). 

We are all learning something. We learn at different rates, we learn things in a different order. We have various experiences and our lessons will be tailored to us personally. There are somethings that I will never know as well as someone else who has lived another life than me. Learning from one another is yet one more way to keep us united. Sharing with each other the hard things to help them become easy.

The full scripture my mother quoted to me in that hallway when I was 13 reads like this:

Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. (Matt 11:28-30, emphasis added

Life is hard. Learning is hard. But with the right teacher and a good study group, the possibilities are endless.