Garden Veggies
Made into tile for my stove backsplash
Portland Rose Garden
Mike and my 2 youngest sons Ian and Leif
Grandson Michael's Birthday 2014 throwing water balloons
With son Beau, Grandson Luke and his mom Jennifer
Maren
I cut this out of a wedding line. I must take more pictures of her.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
THE WELLINGTON GIRLS
Tomorrow I am going to Wellington to hang out with the Wellington Girls. Well, we are not quite girls anymore unless 60 something can still fit in that category. Maybe more like old girls. I want to write a tribute to the part they played in my childhood and growing into young womanhood. My family could easily have been in the "poor white trash" category. But when you grow up in rural Utah a good part of the town could fit somewhere here. Most of our fathers worked for the coal mine. All of our homes were small and humble. Mine may have been at the bottom of the rung but it didn't matter. There were about 10 girls this age that went to school together in Wellington. These girls were good, and kind and tolerant of differences. I didn’t see this kind of niceness in my daughters friends when she was growing up. She seemed to be tormented with a lot of little stinkers. I feel so lucky and blessed to have grown up in Wellington. In all the humility of this town there were spiritual giants. I feel like I was encouraged with many cultural experiences as music, plays, dancing and singing. The church was a facilitator for much of these experiences but also the school. So, hurrah for Wellington, which is 12 Miles East of Price. It is the last town before you hit the desert.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
THE NASTY CHRISTIAN
Recently I heard a couple of stories from non-believers that made me think about being an "example of the believers." (1 Tim. 4:12)
1. In a work situation someone needed help from a fellow employee. This person was reading their bible in the lunch room earlier but refuses to help you. Why would you want to belong to a group like this?
2. Work again. You are under pressure with a project and need someone to support you but your office mate cannot do it because he is going home teaching. Is this what a real Christian would do?
C.S. Lewis has an answer in "Mere Christianity" that I love. He said: "We must...not be surprised if we find among the Christians some people who are still nasty. There is even, when you come to think it over, a reason why nasty people might be expected to turn to Christ in greater numbers than nice ones. That was what people objected to about Christ during His life on earth: He seemed to attract "such awful people." That is what people still object to, and always will. " (P. 180)
Then Lewis goes on to talk about the pitfalls of "being naturally good" which I have posted here previously.
So, as one of those "nasty people" that hasn’t always been good at being an "example of the believers," I want to apologize for my bad example...especially to my children. I have hope in the scriptures that say we will also be judged by the "desires of our hearts." I have wanted to be better than I am. I want to be so good that when you see what I do you will want to know the Christ that I follow but I know I have failed on many occasions and will continue to fail...hopefully less and less as I continue to try to be better.
Some quotes from Mere Christianity:
"Good people know about both good and evil: bad people do not know about either." P. 87
"Virtue—even attempted virtue—brings light; indulgence brings fog. (P. 94)
"Good and evil both increase in compound interest. That is why the little decisions you and I make every day are of such infinite importance. The smallest good act today is the capture of a strategic point from which, a few months later, you may be able to go on to victories you never dreamed of. And apparently trivial indulgence in lust or anger today is the loss of a ridge or railway line or bridgehead from which the enemy may launch and attack otherwise impossible. (p.117)
"...be thou an example of the believers, in word, in conversation, in charity, in spirit, in faith, in purity." 1 Tim. 4:12
Thursday, August 21, 2008
A SCRIPTURE TO KEEP ME ON TRACK
And the cares of the
World,
and the deceitfulness of riches,
and the lusts of other things entering in
choke the
Word
Mark 4:19
Word
Mark 4:19
Thursday, August 14, 2008
"SON'' FLOWER
http://mormontimes.com/ME_index.php?id=1929
Here is the link to the Mormon Times version of
this story published August 28 in the Deseret News.
Recently I finsihed reading the 4 gospels. During this time I have thought a lot about Christ and all the healing he did. Surely, a day never went by when He didn’t heal someone. It has made me think about wanting to be healed. I have wondered if I could ever muster enough faith to have my Rheumatoid Arthritis completely healed. There are wonderful words in the temple that focus on health and it makes me think that being well must be very important to our Heavenly Father. I have mulled this over and over as I have reflected on all the healing accounts in the gospels and my faith.
One day last week I walked the hills, amid the sunflowers to my wilderness temple, contemplating these things when a profound thought came to me. Oh, I am sure someone else has thought and taught this before but it was a new concept to my brain. Christ was not telling us to worry so much about being healed as that we should be a healer. He never took Paul’s "thorn in the side" from him. Do these thorns keep us humble? I have always appreciated that Paul didn’t tell us what his thorn was. We can all wonder if he had our infirmity.
Christ was always trying to teach us by example. So, His daily healing was also for us—to help us realize that we need to be a frequent healer. We need to be a bright sunflower growing up without all the nourishment we think we need and to bloom with our happy faces toward the "Son"—even when our life isn’t ideal.
I hope the profusion of these happy sun flowers, growing in dry rocky places, will remind me to try harder to be a healer, filled with love. Maybe it is the answer to healing ourselves too.
Here is the link to the Mormon Times version of
this story published August 28 in the Deseret News.
Isaiah said that Christ was a "root out of dry ground." (53:2) Maybe He is like a sunflower. From mid to late July Sunflowers begin to bloom around here in all the most desolate dry areas in the hills, roadsides and empty spaces. They continue to bloom until winter hits in November. I have seen little sunflower buds continue to show their sunny faces through the last hours of fall. On the empty lot next to me all the weeds are dying from lack of water but the sunflowers are doing fine and blooming. I want to know how to be a "root out of dry ground" – a sunflower but only idealistically. Mostly I want to live sheltered in a greenhouse being watered, fertilized and pampered daily. But, this is never going to happen for any of us because Christ knows that being a sunflower is a choice opportunity. He wants us all to have the sunflower experience.
Recently I finsihed reading the 4 gospels. During this time I have thought a lot about Christ and all the healing he did. Surely, a day never went by when He didn’t heal someone. It has made me think about wanting to be healed. I have wondered if I could ever muster enough faith to have my Rheumatoid Arthritis completely healed. There are wonderful words in the temple that focus on health and it makes me think that being well must be very important to our Heavenly Father. I have mulled this over and over as I have reflected on all the healing accounts in the gospels and my faith.
One day last week I walked the hills, amid the sunflowers to my wilderness temple, contemplating these things when a profound thought came to me. Oh, I am sure someone else has thought and taught this before but it was a new concept to my brain. Christ was not telling us to worry so much about being healed as that we should be a healer. He never took Paul’s "thorn in the side" from him. Do these thorns keep us humble? I have always appreciated that Paul didn’t tell us what his thorn was. We can all wonder if he had our infirmity.
Christ was always trying to teach us by example. So, His daily healing was also for us—to help us realize that we need to be a frequent healer. We need to be a bright sunflower growing up without all the nourishment we think we need and to bloom with our happy faces toward the "Son"—even when our life isn’t ideal.
I hope the profusion of these happy sun flowers, growing in dry rocky places, will remind me to try harder to be a healer, filled with love. Maybe it is the answer to healing ourselves too.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
A CASE FOR ORGANIZED RELIGION
A few years ago I wrote a 15 page essay on this topic. The following is a story from that work that I like. If you are interested in the other 14 pages let me know.
Two Months ago one of the authors had the opportunity to visit Mexico. While visiting the ancient Zapotec site of Monte Alban, I stopped at a hotel in Oaxaca, about a day’s trip south of Mexico City. As one of the hotel workers helped me with my bags, he asked where I was from. When I replied "Utah," he asked if I was LDS. His name was Rene, and he, too, was LDS…
He was a wonderful young man, who was always kind and gracious. We visited his home and invited his family to dinner, during which Rene’s mother told us the story of her conversion. Their family is pureblooded Zapotec Indians. In traditional Mexican society, Indian peoples are usually oppressed, lacking social status and political and economic power. Many live in extreme poverty with almost no education. Although things have improved somewhat in recent years, Native Americans are still an underclass in much of Mexico.
Twenty years ago, Rene’s mother and father were living in a small two-room house on the outskirts of Oaxaca. They had two small children and a third on the way, but had never been formally married. In his despair, the father had become an alcoholic, contracting a terrible plague that afflicts many poor Mexicans. One day, two LDS missionaries knocked on their door. Rene’s mother answered, and was mildly interested in their message, but said they would have to return when her husband was home. When the missionaries came back, the father refused to have anything to do with them. But he allowed his wife to listen to the discussions. A few days later, when the missionaries were visiting, the husband was sick in bed from overindulgence. The wife asked the missionaries to give him a blessing. He was not only healed but touched by the Spirit; within two weeks they were both baptized.
Although it took the father a number of years to fully recover from alcoholism, their lives were completely transformed. Today, twenty years later, Rene’s family is still poor, but it is not a poverty of degradation and despair, "we are poor in material things, but rich in the spirit, as Rene’s mother put it. They have hope and purpose not only in this life but in the future life as well…The father is now the bishop of a ward in Oaxaca…all of their children have finished or are attending high school, and several are going to college; Rene is working toward a degree in computer science. All of this because two missionaries knocked on the door of a poverty-stricken family whose mother asked the missionaries to give a blessing to her alcoholic husband.
Of course, different versions of this story occur thousands of times a year throughout the world. Yet this should not blind us to the miraculous nature of what happened to Rene’s family. Such events emphasize the essence of religion, which is its capacity to change the human soul—to cause people to be born of the Spirit. The life-transforming reality of such experiences is what gives religion its continuing power and influence in the world today, despite ongoing predictions by secularists of its imminent demise. (William J. Hamblin and Daniel C. Peterson "Higher Things" LDSWORLD GEMS Feb. 15, 2001)
Two Months ago one of the authors had the opportunity to visit Mexico. While visiting the ancient Zapotec site of Monte Alban, I stopped at a hotel in Oaxaca, about a day’s trip south of Mexico City. As one of the hotel workers helped me with my bags, he asked where I was from. When I replied "Utah," he asked if I was LDS. His name was Rene, and he, too, was LDS…
He was a wonderful young man, who was always kind and gracious. We visited his home and invited his family to dinner, during which Rene’s mother told us the story of her conversion. Their family is pureblooded Zapotec Indians. In traditional Mexican society, Indian peoples are usually oppressed, lacking social status and political and economic power. Many live in extreme poverty with almost no education. Although things have improved somewhat in recent years, Native Americans are still an underclass in much of Mexico.
Twenty years ago, Rene’s mother and father were living in a small two-room house on the outskirts of Oaxaca. They had two small children and a third on the way, but had never been formally married. In his despair, the father had become an alcoholic, contracting a terrible plague that afflicts many poor Mexicans. One day, two LDS missionaries knocked on their door. Rene’s mother answered, and was mildly interested in their message, but said they would have to return when her husband was home. When the missionaries came back, the father refused to have anything to do with them. But he allowed his wife to listen to the discussions. A few days later, when the missionaries were visiting, the husband was sick in bed from overindulgence. The wife asked the missionaries to give him a blessing. He was not only healed but touched by the Spirit; within two weeks they were both baptized.
Although it took the father a number of years to fully recover from alcoholism, their lives were completely transformed. Today, twenty years later, Rene’s family is still poor, but it is not a poverty of degradation and despair, "we are poor in material things, but rich in the spirit, as Rene’s mother put it. They have hope and purpose not only in this life but in the future life as well…The father is now the bishop of a ward in Oaxaca…all of their children have finished or are attending high school, and several are going to college; Rene is working toward a degree in computer science. All of this because two missionaries knocked on the door of a poverty-stricken family whose mother asked the missionaries to give a blessing to her alcoholic husband.
Of course, different versions of this story occur thousands of times a year throughout the world. Yet this should not blind us to the miraculous nature of what happened to Rene’s family. Such events emphasize the essence of religion, which is its capacity to change the human soul—to cause people to be born of the Spirit. The life-transforming reality of such experiences is what gives religion its continuing power and influence in the world today, despite ongoing predictions by secularists of its imminent demise. (William J. Hamblin and Daniel C. Peterson "Higher Things" LDSWORLD GEMS Feb. 15, 2001)
Friday, August 8, 2008
MOVIE REVIEW - LARS AND THE REAL GIRL
This movie was a fun surprise. The main character Lars is plagued with social insecurities and angst from his childhood. Someone at his work puts him on to a lifesize doll (known to be a sex doll but that is not why Lars gets her) The story unfolds as the entire community plays along and Lars learns how to function in the real world with his imaginary friend. This is clean with a few sex references but not to make you uncomfortable. Lars is a church going guy and the doll sleeps at his brothers house because he knows her history and she has been a missionary. DVD available.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Pineapple Carrot Cakle
This cake always turns out moist and delicious. I love the pineapple in it. I like to bake it in a large sided cookie skeet so it is thinner and you can serve it in finger bars if you want. Take some of the drained pineapple juice and thin your cream cheese frosting with it for a nice pineapple frosting flavor.
1 C. oil
1 ½ C. Sugar
3 Eggs
3 Eggs
2 C. Grated carrots
¾ C. Drained crushed pineapple
2 ½ C. Flour
¾ C. Drained crushed pineapple
2 ½ C. Flour
1 tsp. Soda
1 tsp. Salt
1 tsp. Salt
1 tsp. Cinnamon
1 tsp. Vanilla
1 tsp. Vanilla
Add 1 C. chopped walnuts if desired or put them
on the frosting...at my house we have to do half nuts
half no nuts.
Beat and bake 350 – 20 to 35 minutes (if you bake them
Beat and bake 350 – 20 to 35 minutes (if you bake them
in a cookie sheet it will take less time.)
Frost with cream cheese frosting
Saturday, July 26, 2008
MARRIAGE AND THE GOOD SAMARITAN
http://meridianmagazine.com/
My Spiritual Mentor on "My Blogger Friends" Wallace Goddard has written a book about Marriage that is the best thing out there on marriage. It was posted in serial on Meridian Magazine's web site if you want to read it there or you can order it on his sight. My favorite chapter which I have posted here is profound in its ability to look at marriage problems in a very unique way. Is our spouse like the injured man on the road to Jericho? Is the answer that we become the "Good Samaritan" in our relationships?
The Journey of Life
From Chapter 1 of First Principles of Marriage
By H. Wallace Goddard
"A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho . . . ." Notice that, in this account, we have no identifying information about the central character of the story. Was he a merchant, a foreigner, a father, an apostate? Why are we given no detail about that poor man who made the lonely trek to Jericho? Because that traveler represents you and me and our partners and our children in our journeys of life. He is every man and every woman and every child.
Jesus is telling a story about us, about you and me.
There is unexpected significance that the journey was from Jerusalem to Jericho. Jerusalem had unique spiritual significance. It was the Holy City. It was the temple city. Its elevation would not normally be noteworthy—except in contrast to that of Jericho. “From Jerusalem, at 2,700 feet above sea level, to Jericho, at 850 feet below sea level the lowest city on the globe, is a descent of over 3,500 feet” (D. Kelly Ogden, “The Testing Ground for the Covenant People,” Ensign, Sept. 1980, p. 56, emphasis added).
Jesus’ choice of those particular endpoints for the journey must have significance. Were the two cities chosen specifically because Jesus was teaching of everyman’s descent from the heavenly presence to this hellish world? Was Jesus inviting us to understand this parable as a type for each of our mortal journeys? We might paraphrase the story: “Each of us goes down from the presence of God to this lowly, desolate world.” Jesus is talking about our own inglorious descents from Heaven.
". . . and fell among thieves”
The risks of a lone journey along the road to Jericho were well known to the Jews of the time. Why did the traveler take the risks? And why do we take the risks of mortality? Why did we choose to come to this desolate place?
A Heavenly One-on-One
In my mind I picture a time some ages ago when Father called you and me--each of us individually--to an interview, a Father’s Interview. He looked on us with love and shared His appreciation for us: “I love you, Dear One.”
Then He told us: “You are ready to go to earth.” We tensed at the prospect of leaving Him. He continued: “I can customize your earth experience to prepare you for the place you want in Eternity. So the key question is, where do you want to spend Eternity?”
Each of us trembled. Dared we say? Dared we hope? He prodded: “Go ahead. Tell me. Please.”
We blurted: “Oh Father! I want to be with you! I want to be a part of your work! I want to spend Eternity with Jehovah and all the noble and great ones.” Then we hung our heads in shame. How dare we hope for such a thing? How could we be so presumptuous?
But He gently lifted our chins. I imagine a tear coursing down His face. “And that is where I want you. I want you back with Me and all my most cherished Ones.” He pulled us close and filled our spirits with His goodness. We leaned into His love and felt more at home than we ever had.
After what seemed like an eternity, He leaned back and sighed. “The education for exaltation is very rigorous and demanding. . ..”
We interrupted: “Oh! I’d do anything to be with You again.” He smiled but had a concerned look in His eyes. “Let me show you something.” He opened our minds to see every hour, every minute, every second, every hiccough of our personal mortal experience. After all, He is not a person to sneak big surprises into the small print of our mortal contracts. In my opinion, He showed us every single thing we would experience in our mortal education from the pains of birth to the anxieties of death and every struggle in between. We were sobered.
He asked, “Would you bear all of that to return Home?”
“Gladly. But . . .” We hesitated. “Can I do it? Am I strong enough? Am I good enough? Do I have a chance of making it?”
Father glowed. “No. No, you can’t make it. You would get hopelessly lost on your own. You will often be confused and uncertain. You will become hopelessly forlorn and dispirited. But, if you’re willing to go, I’ll provide my two Extraordinary Helpers. I will provide you my Third-in-command, the Holy Spirit, who will teach you, comfort you, and cleanse you. And I will provide my Second-in-command, my dearly Beloved Son, who will give you the teachings you need. And He will pay the price of all your debts so that you can come Home clean and perfect.”
At this point our eyes were big with disbelief and tears coursed down our cheeks. We slipped from His arms to our knees “You would do all that for me?”
“Gladly.”
“And all the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy” (Job 38:7). Never in all of eternity had there been such Good News! Right Then and There we committed to make the perilous journey. We signed the contract. We made a covenant.
But, somewhere between our heavenly Home Above to bedeviled and beleaguered earth beneath, we suffered from a veil that hid that sacred pre-trip moment from our view. So we started this journey dazed, forgetful, and vulnerable. The newborn baby cries and flails his limbs. This cold and breezy place is clearly not our Home. The bad news is that things will get worse before they get better. Our mortal pathways are strewn with thorn and thistles (See Moses 4). As we journey through mortality in this harsh world, we continue to be vulnerable to brutal attacks. We often fall among thieves.
The Treacherous Journey
". . . and fell among thieves, which stripped him of his raiment, and wounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead."
What a perfect description of what every person experiences in the course of mortality! We all get injured and left alone along our treacherous journey of life. We lose the robe of innocence and heavenly grace (See Welch, p. 76). We are often stripped of our hope and whatever dim sense of identity we had. We are wounded not only by difficulties but also by sin and filth. We are left exactly half dead. While our bodies still breathe, our spirits are dead—cut off from the Divine Lifeblood that sustained us when we walked in the Garden of Heaven with Father.
Each of us is wounded in mortality. No one is spared. Ironically, those who have the highest aspirations suffer some of the hardest injuries. They chose the tougher training.
However, if we learn the mindset of faith, our troubles no longer surprise us nor bother us so much. We know that everything we suffer was carefully designed by a Perfect Father to prepare us for our Work on High. We also know that the entire First Presidency of Heaven is looking after us.
Hoping for Help
"And by chance there came down a certain priest that way . . ."
Ahhh! We are hopeful! Priests are those people in the community commissioned to see to the well-being of the people. They are the spiritually elite. Certainly this priest will stop and care for the injured one.
". . . and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side."
Yikes! Why would he do such a thing? He did not merely pass by, he went out of his way to avoid the disagreeable sight. What was he thinking? Maybe: "What a shame that people would be out on this dangerous road alone. Doesn't he know any better? What a fool! This is the natural consequence of such a foolish decision. I hope he learns a lesson. Besides, he is not in my congregation." There is a cool detachment, maybe even some condescension in such a response.
Here comes the next passerby. Certainly he will stop. After all, he is a Levite, one who serves as a musician or custodian in the temple of God. Such a humble servant will certainly minister to one who is injured.
"And likewise a Levite, when he was at the place, came and looked on him and passed by on the other side."
Was convenience or cleanliness more important to the Levite than godly compassion? What a bitter irony! Was Jesus suggesting that the entire Jewish hierarchy from humble Levites to exalted priests was spiritually bankrupt? Was He saying that charity is the mark of true followers—and there was none of it in the ancient and rigid order?
Certainly the same might be said of some of our responses to spousal suffering in marriage. We sometimes are so concerned about being right in an argument that we fail to be good. “The letter killeth but the spirit giveth life” (2 Cor. 3:6). When the system is drained of charity, it is only a dead form. When we pound our spouse with logic or power, we are no better than the thieves. When we dispassionately witness our partners’ pains, we are no better than the priest or Levite.
We can be humbled by reflection. How often have I seen my partner’s pain and added to it by heaping discontent on our already-injured spouse? When she is hurting do I take an “I told you so” stance?
Maybe we do a little better than the thieves. Maybe we act like priest or Levite. We blithely ignore our partner’s struggles. Maybe we figure they deserve it. Maybe we figure it’s not our problem. Maybe we are absorbed with our own problems.
After the priest and Levite passed him by, if the injured one was conscious, he must have been desperate. The holiest members of his community had passed him by. Would no one have pity on one as miserable and helpless as he? It would appear that we have no hope as we weaken at the side of the road.
Unexpected Grace
"But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was . . ."
Certainly we will not get help from a Samaritan. They are half-breed pretenders to the great religious tradition. They are the lowest of the low. They are strangers and foreigners
.
“The Samaritan was racially impure-‑half Gentile, half Israelite; he worshiped at a different temple, a rival of the Jerusalem temple. His religion was half pagan, half Jewish, a blasphemous mongrel religion to the ultraorthodox Pharisees. So Jews despised such people. . . . One can imagine how offensive this story was to the priests and Levites of Jesus' day. Translating such a parable into our culture, it is as if a stake president or a bishop passed by such a victim because he was late for a session at the temple or a ward planning meeting, and an excommunicant Mormon cared for him” (Compton, 1993, p. 153, emphasis added).
Note that the despicable Samaritan “journeyed” while the priest and likewise the Levite came “by chance.” Is it possible that the officially religious came upon the scene by chance while the Samaritan was out looking for opportunities to serve? Is it possible that the most spiritual are not always those who are most religious? Is it possible that the mark of a true believer is the willingness to travel the highways of life looking for opportunities to help those in need?
“Love is one of the chief characteristics of Deity, and ought to be manifested by those who aspire to be the sons of God. A man filled with the love of God, is not content with blessing his family alone, but ranges through the whole world, anxious to bless the whole human race” (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, p.174, emphasis added).
There is a quirk in human nature here. Many of us find it easier to minister to the stranger than to the family member. Unexpected service to the stranger is often warmly appreciated. Service to family is expected and often goes unappreciated. As a result, many of us cheerfully do for others the things that we grudgingly or sporadically do for family. What would we do if we were less concerned about the rewards of appreciation? Probably we would offer gentle healing regularly to injured family members.
The Pattern of Heavenly Rescue
The Samaritan in Jesus’ story clearly represents the Savior Himself. “Samaritans were viewed as the least of all humanity, so it was prophesied that the Servant Messiah would be ‘despised and rejected of men’ and ‘esteemed . . . not’ (Isa.53:3)” (Welch, p. 79). The work of caring for the injured is often disdained by those who see themselves as holy or busy. Jesus is different:
". . . and when he saw him, he had compassion on him."
The first response of this disreputable stranger was compassion. Rather than chide the traveler for foolishness or lack of preparation, He looked on his injuries with empathy. Even now He does the same for us as He finds us bleeding by the side of the road. He might rightly claim that we have brought our miseries on ourselves. He might justly claim that He has no responsibility for us since we have all strayed from His counsel. But he looks on us with the compassion characteristic of God. We would not expect this Samaritan passerby to do more than feel saddened by our plight. Why would He care for those who cause Him pain? Yet again we are surprised by Him:
The Samaritan "went to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine, and set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him" (v.34).
Wow. The stranger brought all of His resources to bear in healing us, the injured ones! He binds up our wounds. He is, after all One who is touched by every pain and infirmity that we ever suffer. He bore not only our sins but even our pains and discomforts so that His compassion would be fully informed (Alma 7:11-12). He brings His whole soul as an offering to us.
Symbols of Spiritual Rescue
Hugh Nibley teaches us that no ancient Christian could have misunderstood the ceremonial implications of "pouring in oil and wine." The alert reader recognizes sacred, even sacramental, emblems. Today, when we think of oil, we recall hands laid on heads for healing. We think of anointing and dedicating our whole lives to sacred purposes. We are soothed and comforted by the blessings attended by consecrated oil.
Further, “olive oil is symbolic of the Holy Ghost. This is because the Holy Ghost provides spiritual nourishment, enlightenment, and comfort, just as olive oil in the ancient Near East was used for food, light, and anointing” (Tvedtnes, p. 427).
When we think of the wine, we remember His weekly invitation to come boldly to the throne of grace and receive mercy and grace to help in time of need (Hebrews 4:16). Every week He offers His blood to heal us. With his stripes we are healed. His compassion stretches to the infinities of time and space as He personally ministers to all of us.
But there is still more. Jesus puts us on His beast and walks while we ride. What a model of meekness and humility! He, King of kings and Lord of lords, walks so that we may be carried to healing. He who is truly First becomes last while we who are last are put first.
Jesus does not then dump us at the first county hospital. He brings us to a safe place and tends to our healing Himself. In the time of our crisis, He stays up all night with us
.
Perhaps you have felt His ministering to you in times of desperation. I have. And I am grateful. In our lonely nights He ministers to those of us who have slept through His agony (See Matthew 26:49).
Continued Care
"And on the morrow when he departed, he took out two pence, and gave them to the host, and said unto him, Take care of him; and whatsoever thou spendest more, when I come again, I will repay thee."
After getting us through the crisis, he paid two pence to the host. Two pence can have several meanings. The two pence would pay two days' wages for a laborer and would have provided care for the injured man for up to two months! (NIV Study Bible). It could also mean that Jesus pays for care during the two days He is absent and He will return on the third day (Welch, p. 84). Intriguingly, the amount paid was “the amount each Jewish man had to pay as the temple tax each year” (Welch, p. 84). Thus this payment put the injured traveler right with God for a year while his body healed just as partaking of the sacrament worthily sets us right with God for another week of spiritual recovery.
The Reward for Service
The account reports that Jesus leaves us in the care of the host with the promise to repay any expenses. Some commentators have noted the folly of anyone promising to pay any and all debts. It seems clear that Jesus is not turning the healing of the injured over to strangers. He is entrusting the work of ministering to those whom He knows and trusts, those who have made covenants with Him. He promises you and me that, when He comes again, He will repay anything we invest in helping and healing His children.
When we follow the example of the Good Samaritan and care for injured travelers, the currency of repayment for our service is uniquely appropriate if surprising. He promises us forgiveness of our sins. “For the sake of retaining a remission of your sins from day to day, that ye may walk guiltless before God--I would that ye should impart of your substance to the poor, every man according to that which he hath, such as feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, visiting the sick and administering to their relief, both spiritually and temporally, according to their wants” (Mosiah 4:26).
When we minister to family members who are sick or injured, we receive in payment a divine bounty of forgiveness.
The Lowest Response to Vulnerability
We see different kinds of responses to the traveler. The thieves seized on the opportunity to rob the traveler. The priest and Levite actively ignored him. The Samaritan had compassion and ministered to him. These three responses might represent general types of responses to those who are distressed.
When we operate by the telestial law, we act primarily to meet our own needs with disregard for others—just as the thieves did. Our automatic responses in family life usually operate at this level. Our needs are the guiding principle in our decisions. We act to protect our dignity and interests with little regard for the needs of family members.
For example, in a spousal squabble we attack our partners, their wisdom and goodness in the process of proving that things should have been done our way. We leave them injured and half dead as we stomp off to inventory our rightness.
The Honorable Response to Distress
The second type of response is the terrestrial typified by the priest and Levite and is guided by principles of fairness and honor. The priest and Levite had no official responsibility to one who was unwise or careless. Besides, how could they ever hope to help one who was so injured?
This level of functioning is actually about as good as humans can reasonably expect in family life. This is the mindset of honorable business. We give with the expectation of reasonable benefit. We negotiate and bargain. It is a triumph of the law of business over the law of the jungle.
When we don’t get benefits commensurate with our investments, we cut our losses and quit the relationship. We have no intention of throwing good effort into hopeless causes.
The Heavenly Response to Our Need
The third type of response is that of the Samaritan. He was purposefully looking for those in need—such need is never in short supply in our families. And He came prepared. It was not by chance that He had oil, wine and bandages with Him. He was moved by compassion and prepared to serve.
This kind of response does not come easily to humans. In fact, I think it is fully impossible for us—unless we are filled with Jesus. We cannot “love [our] enemies, bless them that curse [us], do good to them that hate [us], and pray for them which despitefully use [us], and persecute [us]” (Matthew 5:44) unless we have been changed by Him.
Most of the time we exact an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. Yet you can probably think of a time when you have responded to ugliness with graciousness, kindness, love, and compassion. It feels good. We can see Him working through us! We are blessed to have Him at the helm of our lives.
The surest test of our spiritual maturity is the way we react to those who are imperfect physically, spiritually, or emotionally. How do we react when someone attacks and blames us? Do we defend ourselves at all costs? Do we try to be fair and balanced? Or do we, like Jesus, recognize that ugliness is often an expression of pain? Do we minister with love and patience? Do we bring healing to the injured?
My Spiritual Mentor on "My Blogger Friends" Wallace Goddard has written a book about Marriage that is the best thing out there on marriage. It was posted in serial on Meridian Magazine's web site if you want to read it there or you can order it on his sight. My favorite chapter which I have posted here is profound in its ability to look at marriage problems in a very unique way. Is our spouse like the injured man on the road to Jericho? Is the answer that we become the "Good Samaritan" in our relationships?
The Journey of Life
From Chapter 1 of First Principles of Marriage
By H. Wallace Goddard
"A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho . . . ." Notice that, in this account, we have no identifying information about the central character of the story. Was he a merchant, a foreigner, a father, an apostate? Why are we given no detail about that poor man who made the lonely trek to Jericho? Because that traveler represents you and me and our partners and our children in our journeys of life. He is every man and every woman and every child.
Jesus is telling a story about us, about you and me.
There is unexpected significance that the journey was from Jerusalem to Jericho. Jerusalem had unique spiritual significance. It was the Holy City. It was the temple city. Its elevation would not normally be noteworthy—except in contrast to that of Jericho. “From Jerusalem, at 2,700 feet above sea level, to Jericho, at 850 feet below sea level the lowest city on the globe, is a descent of over 3,500 feet” (D. Kelly Ogden, “The Testing Ground for the Covenant People,” Ensign, Sept. 1980, p. 56, emphasis added).
Jesus’ choice of those particular endpoints for the journey must have significance. Were the two cities chosen specifically because Jesus was teaching of everyman’s descent from the heavenly presence to this hellish world? Was Jesus inviting us to understand this parable as a type for each of our mortal journeys? We might paraphrase the story: “Each of us goes down from the presence of God to this lowly, desolate world.” Jesus is talking about our own inglorious descents from Heaven.
". . . and fell among thieves”
The risks of a lone journey along the road to Jericho were well known to the Jews of the time. Why did the traveler take the risks? And why do we take the risks of mortality? Why did we choose to come to this desolate place?
A Heavenly One-on-One
In my mind I picture a time some ages ago when Father called you and me--each of us individually--to an interview, a Father’s Interview. He looked on us with love and shared His appreciation for us: “I love you, Dear One.”
Then He told us: “You are ready to go to earth.” We tensed at the prospect of leaving Him. He continued: “I can customize your earth experience to prepare you for the place you want in Eternity. So the key question is, where do you want to spend Eternity?”
Each of us trembled. Dared we say? Dared we hope? He prodded: “Go ahead. Tell me. Please.”
We blurted: “Oh Father! I want to be with you! I want to be a part of your work! I want to spend Eternity with Jehovah and all the noble and great ones.” Then we hung our heads in shame. How dare we hope for such a thing? How could we be so presumptuous?
But He gently lifted our chins. I imagine a tear coursing down His face. “And that is where I want you. I want you back with Me and all my most cherished Ones.” He pulled us close and filled our spirits with His goodness. We leaned into His love and felt more at home than we ever had.
After what seemed like an eternity, He leaned back and sighed. “The education for exaltation is very rigorous and demanding. . ..”
We interrupted: “Oh! I’d do anything to be with You again.” He smiled but had a concerned look in His eyes. “Let me show you something.” He opened our minds to see every hour, every minute, every second, every hiccough of our personal mortal experience. After all, He is not a person to sneak big surprises into the small print of our mortal contracts. In my opinion, He showed us every single thing we would experience in our mortal education from the pains of birth to the anxieties of death and every struggle in between. We were sobered.
He asked, “Would you bear all of that to return Home?”
“Gladly. But . . .” We hesitated. “Can I do it? Am I strong enough? Am I good enough? Do I have a chance of making it?”
Father glowed. “No. No, you can’t make it. You would get hopelessly lost on your own. You will often be confused and uncertain. You will become hopelessly forlorn and dispirited. But, if you’re willing to go, I’ll provide my two Extraordinary Helpers. I will provide you my Third-in-command, the Holy Spirit, who will teach you, comfort you, and cleanse you. And I will provide my Second-in-command, my dearly Beloved Son, who will give you the teachings you need. And He will pay the price of all your debts so that you can come Home clean and perfect.”
At this point our eyes were big with disbelief and tears coursed down our cheeks. We slipped from His arms to our knees “You would do all that for me?”
“Gladly.”
“And all the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy” (Job 38:7). Never in all of eternity had there been such Good News! Right Then and There we committed to make the perilous journey. We signed the contract. We made a covenant.
But, somewhere between our heavenly Home Above to bedeviled and beleaguered earth beneath, we suffered from a veil that hid that sacred pre-trip moment from our view. So we started this journey dazed, forgetful, and vulnerable. The newborn baby cries and flails his limbs. This cold and breezy place is clearly not our Home. The bad news is that things will get worse before they get better. Our mortal pathways are strewn with thorn and thistles (See Moses 4). As we journey through mortality in this harsh world, we continue to be vulnerable to brutal attacks. We often fall among thieves.
The Treacherous Journey
". . . and fell among thieves, which stripped him of his raiment, and wounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead."
What a perfect description of what every person experiences in the course of mortality! We all get injured and left alone along our treacherous journey of life. We lose the robe of innocence and heavenly grace (See Welch, p. 76). We are often stripped of our hope and whatever dim sense of identity we had. We are wounded not only by difficulties but also by sin and filth. We are left exactly half dead. While our bodies still breathe, our spirits are dead—cut off from the Divine Lifeblood that sustained us when we walked in the Garden of Heaven with Father.
Each of us is wounded in mortality. No one is spared. Ironically, those who have the highest aspirations suffer some of the hardest injuries. They chose the tougher training.
However, if we learn the mindset of faith, our troubles no longer surprise us nor bother us so much. We know that everything we suffer was carefully designed by a Perfect Father to prepare us for our Work on High. We also know that the entire First Presidency of Heaven is looking after us.
Hoping for Help
"And by chance there came down a certain priest that way . . ."
Ahhh! We are hopeful! Priests are those people in the community commissioned to see to the well-being of the people. They are the spiritually elite. Certainly this priest will stop and care for the injured one.
". . . and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side."
Yikes! Why would he do such a thing? He did not merely pass by, he went out of his way to avoid the disagreeable sight. What was he thinking? Maybe: "What a shame that people would be out on this dangerous road alone. Doesn't he know any better? What a fool! This is the natural consequence of such a foolish decision. I hope he learns a lesson. Besides, he is not in my congregation." There is a cool detachment, maybe even some condescension in such a response.
Here comes the next passerby. Certainly he will stop. After all, he is a Levite, one who serves as a musician or custodian in the temple of God. Such a humble servant will certainly minister to one who is injured.
"And likewise a Levite, when he was at the place, came and looked on him and passed by on the other side."
Was convenience or cleanliness more important to the Levite than godly compassion? What a bitter irony! Was Jesus suggesting that the entire Jewish hierarchy from humble Levites to exalted priests was spiritually bankrupt? Was He saying that charity is the mark of true followers—and there was none of it in the ancient and rigid order?
Certainly the same might be said of some of our responses to spousal suffering in marriage. We sometimes are so concerned about being right in an argument that we fail to be good. “The letter killeth but the spirit giveth life” (2 Cor. 3:6). When the system is drained of charity, it is only a dead form. When we pound our spouse with logic or power, we are no better than the thieves. When we dispassionately witness our partners’ pains, we are no better than the priest or Levite.
We can be humbled by reflection. How often have I seen my partner’s pain and added to it by heaping discontent on our already-injured spouse? When she is hurting do I take an “I told you so” stance?
Maybe we do a little better than the thieves. Maybe we act like priest or Levite. We blithely ignore our partner’s struggles. Maybe we figure they deserve it. Maybe we figure it’s not our problem. Maybe we are absorbed with our own problems.
After the priest and Levite passed him by, if the injured one was conscious, he must have been desperate. The holiest members of his community had passed him by. Would no one have pity on one as miserable and helpless as he? It would appear that we have no hope as we weaken at the side of the road.
Unexpected Grace
"But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was . . ."
Certainly we will not get help from a Samaritan. They are half-breed pretenders to the great religious tradition. They are the lowest of the low. They are strangers and foreigners
.
“The Samaritan was racially impure-‑half Gentile, half Israelite; he worshiped at a different temple, a rival of the Jerusalem temple. His religion was half pagan, half Jewish, a blasphemous mongrel religion to the ultraorthodox Pharisees. So Jews despised such people. . . . One can imagine how offensive this story was to the priests and Levites of Jesus' day. Translating such a parable into our culture, it is as if a stake president or a bishop passed by such a victim because he was late for a session at the temple or a ward planning meeting, and an excommunicant Mormon cared for him” (Compton, 1993, p. 153, emphasis added).
Note that the despicable Samaritan “journeyed” while the priest and likewise the Levite came “by chance.” Is it possible that the officially religious came upon the scene by chance while the Samaritan was out looking for opportunities to serve? Is it possible that the most spiritual are not always those who are most religious? Is it possible that the mark of a true believer is the willingness to travel the highways of life looking for opportunities to help those in need?
“Love is one of the chief characteristics of Deity, and ought to be manifested by those who aspire to be the sons of God. A man filled with the love of God, is not content with blessing his family alone, but ranges through the whole world, anxious to bless the whole human race” (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, p.174, emphasis added).
There is a quirk in human nature here. Many of us find it easier to minister to the stranger than to the family member. Unexpected service to the stranger is often warmly appreciated. Service to family is expected and often goes unappreciated. As a result, many of us cheerfully do for others the things that we grudgingly or sporadically do for family. What would we do if we were less concerned about the rewards of appreciation? Probably we would offer gentle healing regularly to injured family members.
The Pattern of Heavenly Rescue
The Samaritan in Jesus’ story clearly represents the Savior Himself. “Samaritans were viewed as the least of all humanity, so it was prophesied that the Servant Messiah would be ‘despised and rejected of men’ and ‘esteemed . . . not’ (Isa.53:3)” (Welch, p. 79). The work of caring for the injured is often disdained by those who see themselves as holy or busy. Jesus is different:
". . . and when he saw him, he had compassion on him."
The first response of this disreputable stranger was compassion. Rather than chide the traveler for foolishness or lack of preparation, He looked on his injuries with empathy. Even now He does the same for us as He finds us bleeding by the side of the road. He might rightly claim that we have brought our miseries on ourselves. He might justly claim that He has no responsibility for us since we have all strayed from His counsel. But he looks on us with the compassion characteristic of God. We would not expect this Samaritan passerby to do more than feel saddened by our plight. Why would He care for those who cause Him pain? Yet again we are surprised by Him:
The Samaritan "went to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine, and set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him" (v.34).
Wow. The stranger brought all of His resources to bear in healing us, the injured ones! He binds up our wounds. He is, after all One who is touched by every pain and infirmity that we ever suffer. He bore not only our sins but even our pains and discomforts so that His compassion would be fully informed (Alma 7:11-12). He brings His whole soul as an offering to us.
Symbols of Spiritual Rescue
Hugh Nibley teaches us that no ancient Christian could have misunderstood the ceremonial implications of "pouring in oil and wine." The alert reader recognizes sacred, even sacramental, emblems. Today, when we think of oil, we recall hands laid on heads for healing. We think of anointing and dedicating our whole lives to sacred purposes. We are soothed and comforted by the blessings attended by consecrated oil.
Further, “olive oil is symbolic of the Holy Ghost. This is because the Holy Ghost provides spiritual nourishment, enlightenment, and comfort, just as olive oil in the ancient Near East was used for food, light, and anointing” (Tvedtnes, p. 427).
When we think of the wine, we remember His weekly invitation to come boldly to the throne of grace and receive mercy and grace to help in time of need (Hebrews 4:16). Every week He offers His blood to heal us. With his stripes we are healed. His compassion stretches to the infinities of time and space as He personally ministers to all of us.
But there is still more. Jesus puts us on His beast and walks while we ride. What a model of meekness and humility! He, King of kings and Lord of lords, walks so that we may be carried to healing. He who is truly First becomes last while we who are last are put first.
Jesus does not then dump us at the first county hospital. He brings us to a safe place and tends to our healing Himself. In the time of our crisis, He stays up all night with us
.
Perhaps you have felt His ministering to you in times of desperation. I have. And I am grateful. In our lonely nights He ministers to those of us who have slept through His agony (See Matthew 26:49).
Continued Care
"And on the morrow when he departed, he took out two pence, and gave them to the host, and said unto him, Take care of him; and whatsoever thou spendest more, when I come again, I will repay thee."
After getting us through the crisis, he paid two pence to the host. Two pence can have several meanings. The two pence would pay two days' wages for a laborer and would have provided care for the injured man for up to two months! (NIV Study Bible). It could also mean that Jesus pays for care during the two days He is absent and He will return on the third day (Welch, p. 84). Intriguingly, the amount paid was “the amount each Jewish man had to pay as the temple tax each year” (Welch, p. 84). Thus this payment put the injured traveler right with God for a year while his body healed just as partaking of the sacrament worthily sets us right with God for another week of spiritual recovery.
The Reward for Service
The account reports that Jesus leaves us in the care of the host with the promise to repay any expenses. Some commentators have noted the folly of anyone promising to pay any and all debts. It seems clear that Jesus is not turning the healing of the injured over to strangers. He is entrusting the work of ministering to those whom He knows and trusts, those who have made covenants with Him. He promises you and me that, when He comes again, He will repay anything we invest in helping and healing His children.
When we follow the example of the Good Samaritan and care for injured travelers, the currency of repayment for our service is uniquely appropriate if surprising. He promises us forgiveness of our sins. “For the sake of retaining a remission of your sins from day to day, that ye may walk guiltless before God--I would that ye should impart of your substance to the poor, every man according to that which he hath, such as feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, visiting the sick and administering to their relief, both spiritually and temporally, according to their wants” (Mosiah 4:26).
When we minister to family members who are sick or injured, we receive in payment a divine bounty of forgiveness.
The Lowest Response to Vulnerability
We see different kinds of responses to the traveler. The thieves seized on the opportunity to rob the traveler. The priest and Levite actively ignored him. The Samaritan had compassion and ministered to him. These three responses might represent general types of responses to those who are distressed.
When we operate by the telestial law, we act primarily to meet our own needs with disregard for others—just as the thieves did. Our automatic responses in family life usually operate at this level. Our needs are the guiding principle in our decisions. We act to protect our dignity and interests with little regard for the needs of family members.
For example, in a spousal squabble we attack our partners, their wisdom and goodness in the process of proving that things should have been done our way. We leave them injured and half dead as we stomp off to inventory our rightness.
The Honorable Response to Distress
The second type of response is the terrestrial typified by the priest and Levite and is guided by principles of fairness and honor. The priest and Levite had no official responsibility to one who was unwise or careless. Besides, how could they ever hope to help one who was so injured?
This level of functioning is actually about as good as humans can reasonably expect in family life. This is the mindset of honorable business. We give with the expectation of reasonable benefit. We negotiate and bargain. It is a triumph of the law of business over the law of the jungle.
When we don’t get benefits commensurate with our investments, we cut our losses and quit the relationship. We have no intention of throwing good effort into hopeless causes.
The Heavenly Response to Our Need
The third type of response is that of the Samaritan. He was purposefully looking for those in need—such need is never in short supply in our families. And He came prepared. It was not by chance that He had oil, wine and bandages with Him. He was moved by compassion and prepared to serve.
This kind of response does not come easily to humans. In fact, I think it is fully impossible for us—unless we are filled with Jesus. We cannot “love [our] enemies, bless them that curse [us], do good to them that hate [us], and pray for them which despitefully use [us], and persecute [us]” (Matthew 5:44) unless we have been changed by Him.
Most of the time we exact an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. Yet you can probably think of a time when you have responded to ugliness with graciousness, kindness, love, and compassion. It feels good. We can see Him working through us! We are blessed to have Him at the helm of our lives.
The surest test of our spiritual maturity is the way we react to those who are imperfect physically, spiritually, or emotionally. How do we react when someone attacks and blames us? Do we defend ourselves at all costs? Do we try to be fair and balanced? Or do we, like Jesus, recognize that ugliness is often an expression of pain? Do we minister with love and patience? Do we bring healing to the injured?
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
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