A Beautiful Explanation of Not Judging Others

A friend of mine shared the following, and I want to share it here. It is one of the most beautiful explanations of the theological reason we should not judge others I have ever heard.
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Background: When I was a young child, someone harmed me in a terrible way. To date I have never harbored anger towards this person. Part of that comes from the fact that it never occurred to me to BE angry. Another part is that I can look at this person's life now and see what a sad condition it is in. I pray for this person's safety. I pray for happiness.

Every Psych book says that I should be in counseling. I should be going through 12 steps. I should be in bad shape. Everyone says that I have the right to be angry. I should demand justice. And, I guess in some ways I certainly could seek justice and I could be angry. I'm justified in doing so, right?

But I am not and it isn't even a dilemma on my part. I have forgiven this person.

So, now we think, "Okay, they'll be punished in the hereafter."

Maybe.

But, here is how I picture judgement day (sort of):

Say we are at the bar of judgement, and those whom we have harmed are allowed to come and air grievances. Maybe they can petition the court to punish us. Perhaps we are reminded of those wrongs before our accusers show up...you know, to prepare our case.  Either way, let's say that we can see the court docket, and when we see someone who wronged us, we can show up at the appointed time and ask for justice.

If this scenario is correct, I will not be found pressing charges against the person who harmed me. In fact, I may show up as a character witness to point out the good things and charitable acts that I've witnessed from this person. Maybe I'll not even mention the harm done to me. Of course, this person will have other "crimes" that will be brought up in court, but I won't be an accuser.

Now, when it's my turn at the bar to be judged, I sure hope that the people whom I've harmed choose not to "press charges" against me either.  

So, I guess I see the Savior act in a similar way that He did when the woman taken in adultery was brought before him. He was asked to be a judge in that situation. At some point, He asked the woman where her accusers were. There were none...for that crime.
Maybe He was then an advocate and encouraged her to change her ways.

When our time comes, may we not have accusers either.

Yes, We Are Our Brothers' and Sisters' Keepers

Remember: It was Cain (a murderer) who replied to God, when asked where Abel was, "Am I my brother's keeper?"  
There are hundreds of verses and passages throughout the Bible (and other religious texts) that say, quite explicitly, that we are our brothers' and sisters' keepers in some way and to some extent. 
It is the determination of the way and the extent where there can be reasonable discussion and disagreement. (For Mormons, however, King Benjamin's sermon sets an incredibly high bar for refusal.) For Christians to deny their responsibility to help "keep" God's children (any of them), at all or minimally, however, is a direct denial of the ministry and teachings of Jesus, of Nazareth. 
Quoting Cain in doing so is the height of irony.

Jesus as Advocate and Judge - and We as Advocates Only

We had a wonderful lesson in our High Priests Group, and I want to share one particular insight I had near the end of the lesson:

We talk about Jesus as the Judge, but I like another title better: Advocate with the Father. I like the framing of Jesus representing us at the judgment seat of the Father - being our advocate (defender) for mercy, with the Father being the actual Judge. I like it conceptually, but I also like the practical application that hit me on Sunday.

When we take his name upon us, we are NOT assuming his post-mortal responsibilities, including that of Judge. In fact, we are told explicitly not to judge (with a result that we won't be judged ourselves). Rather, we are accepting a place in his mortal ministry. We are doing for others what he did for them during his life and through his death. We are promising to recognize their inherent value as children of God and advocate for them. We can't do that unless we refrain from judging them, strive to understand them, and look for justifications to defend them.

In our current system, the ONLY conflict is for Bishops, since they are called Judges in Israel. However, even they can start with their responsibility to be Advocates, and then, and only then, move on to acting as Judges. This approach, if understood and followed, would result in judges and judgments that are as merciful, gracious, and loving as possible - based on understanding WHY people did what they did and not just WHAT they did. If this was our default orientation (being an advocate/defender), much of the problem we have with overzealous, Pharisaical, strict exactness and our sometimes exclusive obsession with worthiness would disappear.

I still am working out my full thoughts on this epiphany, but I wanted to share the initial impression with all of you here.

My Friend Just Baptized Jesus: An Astounding, Beautiful Reflection on the Atonement

I wrote something once that addressed how much I love having paradoxes in life, which included the following statement: 

Living in and embracing a world of paradox is hard work. I believe, however, it is worth the effort - especially since our theology teaches such an embrace is a necessary, fundamental aspect of becoming like a Father-God who allows and values such paradox. It is the only way I know to walk one's one way within the Church and allow others the same privilege, let them walk however they may.

A friend responded with one of the most beautiful, touching treatise on grace and the Atonement I have ever read. I get tears in my eyes every time I read it. I hope it touches everyone who reads it the same way it touches me. 

He said: 

I agree with you.  A paradox can be a great opportunity for discovery.  

A few weeks ago, I was able to baptize my daughter.  I moved into a new ward in May, and I've been working with my new bishop with the goal of baptizing her.  He knows fully that I don't believe fully in the doctrines of temples, polygamy, "the one true church", the restoration, the Book of Mormon, etc.  He's a lawyer and knows how to ask questions! But, I've been grateful for the way that he probes in our discussions, because it has given him a very clear picture of where I stand with the church.  

I told him that I'd like to baptize my daughter, but I also would feel like a bit of a hypocrite baptizing her into a church that I don't fully support.  I do believe in the doctrine of baptism, so my goal was really to provide that baptism, but with the mindset that she's baptized as Christ was, to fulfill all righteousness, and not because it's a required ritual to join our church.  

The bishop has been very understanding and supportive.  He said that I probably wouldn't be able to give her the gift of the Holy Ghost (which I was okay with), but that I could stand in the circle when that was done, but he encouraged me to baptize my daughter.  Knowing where I stand, and that it's been a long time since I've taken the sacrament (my decision), worn garments, studied the Book of Moron, etc., he still encouraged me to baptize her.  

So, on the day of her baptism, I found myself in the font, with this sweet little innocent 8 year old stepping down into the font to join me, a flawed and imperfect scoundrel, who was now supposed to perform this baptism.  It made me think of how John the Baptist must have been feeling when Christ came to him to get baptized, and he felt like Christ should be the one baptizing him.  

That little paradox helped me get a little glimpse of the mercy that the real gospel offers. An imperfect person, like myself, is allowed to have flaws and faults.  But, as long as I'm trying to be the best person that I can be, I could still join my innocent little girl in that ordinance.  Pretty cool stuff.  

It's really easy to get weighed down with all of the policies and practices that have been implemented by the church.  But when we strip away 'the church,' and just focus on the gospel, the simplicity and beauty of it really is incredible.  Hey, there's another paradox...the church and the gospel.  They are supposed to go hand-in-hand, but it often feels like they're at odds with each other.

That's okay, too.

We Aren't As Elect As We Think We Are

I personally don't believe in a "Judgment Day" - where each person stands before a judge in a court room and hears a verdict about their life. I believe "The Final Judgment" is nothing more than the natural end of our progression and growth - that point where we no longer learn and grow. I also believe that point is FAR further out into the future than most people assume, and I think FAR more people reach "godhood" or "perfection" (a state of wholeness, completion and full development) than most people assume.

I think God's grace, mercy and charity (long-suffering patience, especially) are as universal and expansive as is possible, and I think lots of people will be shocked in the end as they look around and finally realize they aren't as "elect" as they thought they were.

The Parable of the Unjust Steward: A Profound Message that Gets Butchered Often

The parable of the unjust steward (Luke 16:1-8) is one that many people have a hard time understanding and accepting.  I've heard lots of arguments over the decades trying to explain why Jesus  couldn't have said it - that it just has to be something that was written into the record by someone else - or that there has to be some deeper symbolism that isn't obvious in the parable itself.  I don't agree with those arguments, since I think it's a pretty straightforward story with a fairly simple meaning.  In the spirit of parsing, to which everyone knows I'm inclined, here is how I see this parable:

1 And he said also unto his disciples, There was a certain rich man, which had a steward; and the same was accused unto him that he had wasted his goods.

The "steward" is a manager - someone who has stewardship over (responsibility for) something. This manager had been given control over the handling of some of the rich man's goods - and had failed miserably. In fact, it appears he had lost everything with which he had been entrusted - since the goods had been "wasted".

2 And he called him, and said unto him, How is it that I hear this of thee? give an account of thy stewardship; for thou mayest be no longer steward.

In other words, the rich man said, "Tell me what you've done with my goods. You're in danger of being fired."

3 Then the steward said within himself, What shall I do? for my lord taketh away from me the stewardship: I cannot dig; to beg I am ashamed.

This wasn't a "poor man" naturally; he wasn't even necessarily a poor man until he was threatened with being fired. (It appears he had no other marketable skill and relatively little physical strength - and he also was a proud man. It also is implied that he knew there was no way he could keep his job, since he knew "my lord taketh away from me the stewardship".)

4 I am resolved what to do, that, when I am put out of the stewardship, they may receive me into their houses.

He said, essentially, "There is no doubt I will be fired, so I better ingratiate myself into the good graces of those who owed money to the rich man while I can (before I am fired officially and still have the authority to make a deal)."

5 So he called every one of his lord’s debtors unto him, and said unto the first, How much owest thou unto my lord?

6 And he said, An hundred measures of oil. And he said unto him, Take thy bill, and sit down quickly, and write fifty.

7 Then said he to another, And how much owest thou? And he said, An hundred measures of wheat. And he said unto him, Take thy bill, and write fourscore.

These verses simply say that he cut deals with the debtors, so they would appreciate him and be more likely to hire him when we was fired.

8 And the lord commended the unjust steward, because he had done wisely: for the children of this world are in their generation wiser than the children of light.

There is nothing in this verse whatsoever that even implies the man kept his job with the rich man. There is nothing in this verse that says anything the steward did was "right" or "good" from a moral standpoint. There is nothing in this verse that says the rich man approved of the steward himself (since he still called him "unjust") or that the rich man kept the steward on as an employee (that isn't stated anywhere). All it says is that the rich man "commended" the "unjust" steward for doing wisely - BUT it doesn't say toward what the commendation for doing wisely was directed. In other words, it doesn't say WHY the rich man commended the steward, other than that there was something "wise" about his actions.

My take is quite simple - though not short (*grin*):

When he heard about the wasted goods, the rich man knew what kind of man the steward was. He also knew that, given the way the steward had "wasted" the goods, he was unlikely to get much, if anything, from his debtors once the steward was fired. (Again, "wasted" carries that connotation - that there appeared to be no getting anything of worth out of them.) So, even as the rich man fired the steward he commended him for at least getting as much as possible out of an otherwise wasted situation - for minimizing his losses and putting himself in a position to get work once he left the rich man's service, even if such an approach was "unjust" - which simply means "not in accord with a normal understanding of what is right or lawful". In other words, the unjust steward didn't demand justice, but rather, in order to get what he could, he extended mercy - thus getting more by being merciful than he could have by sticking strictly to the letter of the law.

(Contrast this parable to the one where the man who owed his master money threw people in jail who couldn't pay him what they owed him in order to get out of his own debt. That man was condemned for being totally "just" - while this "unjust steward" was commended for not adhering strictly to the demands he could have made. Those "just" demands would have put others in jail, not done the rich man any good in the process and reduced the steward himself to death - since he had no other option, given his unwillingness to beg.)

The steward apparently learned an important lesson from his previous failure and successfully carried out a plan to minimize the damage to both himself and his "lord". He started to turn his life around (by being merciful, getting the most out of a bad situation and positioning himself to have another shot at it with someone else) and gave himself an opportunity to do somewhere else what he had been tasked to do in the first place.

I don't think there's a "higher" moral to this story than the obvious one - that it's better to tackle mistakes and bad judgments head-on and try to change your future in the here and now than to leave yourself unable to function in the world as a result of past mistakes (or to rely on the mercy of someone whose "goods" you've wasted). I think the point is simply:

Do the best you can to make the past and the future right - even if you've wasted your stewardship up to this point. Get out of the clutches of those who have claims over you and start fresh with a clean slate - and do a better job with your second chance than you did with the first.

or:

Repent and be merciful toward others, and God will commend you for your efforts.

I don't have to believe this parable actually was taught (although I do believe that), and I don't have to believe it's message is divine in some way. However, I think there are lessons that can be taken from it without "wresting" it in any way.

I think there are two main issues that have to be addressed in order to do so:

1) I think we modern people get hung up on the word "unjust" - and I don't see the steward's actions in the parable as "unethical" in any way. The dictionary definitions of "unjust" are:

a) not just; lacking in justice or fairness;

b) unfaithful or dishonest.

I found this definition enlightening, when viewed in the context of this parable:

not in accordance with accepted standards of fairness or justice

In this parable, one person paid 50% of what he owed, while the second person paid 80% of what he owed. (My guess is the difference was due to the ability of each person to repay the debt immediately - that the steward got as much from each person as was possible in a lump sum at the time.) The steward wasn't being "fair" - since he wasn't applying the same terms of repayment - or "just" or "faithful" - since he wasn't collecting for his boss what was owed to the boss - but he also wasn't being "dishonest" in any way. (See point #2 below for more about that.)

That's smart money management, IF the purpose is to get as much NOW as possible - for whatever reason. That was the steward's objective. Lenders do it all the time, now and all throughout history. If they have lent money and face the real probability that the borrower won't be able to pay it back in full, they work out a compromise, partial payment - and the terms often are "everything you can pay". It's not "unethical" at all - but, technically, it is "unjust". We don't bat an eye at the "unjustness" of it (especially if we are the beneficiaries) - and we generally commend the lenders who understand and try to work out alternate payment options. On the other hand, we generally castigate lenders who don't even try to understand exceptional circumstances and work with borrowers who need to rework their debt payments.

2) It's easy to forget that the steward still was responsible for the distribution of the rich man's goods and the payments for them. That was his job. He did a lousy job of it, but it still was his job. He hadn't been fired yet at the time the parable relates. He had the authority to do whatever he wanted to collect his lord's debts - and he chose to exercise that authority in an "unjust" but totally "ethical" way. He got the rich man as much as could be expected before he was fired, so the rich man understandably commended him for that - even though (I think) he still was fired for wasting his lord's goods.

I don't know exactly what the original point was for this parable, but I can see very good lessons that can be taken from it about repentance and duty.

Moroni's Promise: "True" Doesn't Have to Mean" "Factually Accurate in Every Detail"

Based on the wording of Moroni 10:3-5, Moroni's invitation is about gaining a spiritual witness, not an intellectual one. That is an important distinction, and it is worth considering carefully.

Verse 3 focuses intensely on looking back in time and recognizing how merciful God has been to his children throughout time - then pondering that mercy.  It doesn't ask the reader to ponder what the Book of Mormon has said up to that point; rather, it asks the reader to ponder God's long-suffering mercy.

Focusing on God's mercy puts the reader's prayer directly into the realm of asking if the Book of Mormon is "true" in a spiritual sense - more like "true north" than "factually inerrant". Given how often the book includes comments about overlooking the mistakes in it and the weakness of its writers, I think that's not accidental. Thus, the prayer request becomes less, "Tell me if this book is historically accurate," and more, "Be merciful to me, as you have been to others throughout time, and answer my prayer." It's more of a connection to the divine than receipt of a factual answer - and I believe too many members and missionaries approach it as more of an intellectual question that asks if the details in the book are "accurate / right".

I think that simple difference is more than just significant.

God Is Not As Offended As We Tend to Think He Is

I sometimes think of Joseph's statement shortly before he died that his conscience was free of offense toward God and man. I know he offended people regularly, but I believe he was sincere in that statement. That used to puzzle me - greatly. What I have come to believe is that each of us only can answer to our own understanding of ourselves - to our effort to live the best we understand - to be whatever we believe we are supposed to be.

I know I also have offended people at times - sometimes through what I have written here on this blog. I've done things that I believe "should" be offensive to God, but I've come to believe that they might not be - that he might look down and sigh as he watches me muddle through my life, but that he also understands I'm doing the best I can do. I have come to believe he appreciates that, and I am grateful for the peace that belief brings me as I also try to accept my own weakness and understand that I am worthy specifically because he has deemed me to be so.

That perspective gives me peace, so I accept it and keep on keepin' on.

Discretion Is the Better Part of Just about Anything

Discretion is the better part of just about anything. It's important to recognize and acknowledge that.

I can't say everything I might want to say in any group with whom I associate. I weigh my words all the time, both to consider their effect on me and to be careful of their effect on those who hear them. I try not to be misunderstood, even if I'm not fully understood. I don't succeed all the time in that effort, but I try. 

That's just part of life. Anything else is selfishness and lack of charity.

It's easy to forget that and think that church life is or should be different - that it should be a place where we can forget discretion and just say whatever we think and believe without filters of any kind. It's not that way, and it can't be - since it's a gathering of people who are just as short-sighted and weak as I am.

I'm not looking to carve out any "otherness" in the Church for any group of people. I'm looking to be a Papa D Mormon - for John Doe to be a John Doe Mormon - for Whomever to be a Whomever Mormon, etc. That's all, but it's vitally important to me - and discretion is the better part of that - just as it is for our apostles and local leaders, I would add.

I think leaders really do try to accomplish that (use discretion) well over 90% of the time. Even in cases like I've described here in some threads, with decisions and actions that left me scratching my head in bewilderment and caused some people real pain, most of the time the leaders involved really are trying to do the best they can.

They're human. Life is pain, because we humans inflict pain - because even our best efforts are undertaken as we see through a glass, darkly.

That's all I'm saying - that, given our collective humanity, discretion is the better part of everything we do, in all situations, among the people in all of our associations. I can't control them; I try to control me, to the best of my ability; I hope that I will not be held to a higher standard than I can reach, so I try my hardest not to hold others to a higher standard than they can reach.

That's easy when I like the others and they aren't hurting me and others in any significant way; it's not so easy when I don't like the others and/or they are hurting me and others in real, significant ways. Sometimes, I need to bite my tongue; sometimes I need to speak out; always I need to exercise discretion and think before I act - including before I speak.

Sunday School Lesson Recap: Becoming Like Jesus: Lesson 2

We continued our examination of the Beatitudes today, and it helped that the Sacrament Meetings talks were about becoming like Christ - including an excellent talk by our Bishop. 

"Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled."

We talked about what "after" means in this context - that it is used most often in cases where someone "seeks after" something. This means "pursue" or "search for", which means the verse is talking about pursuing righteousness in a hungry and thirsty manner.

I asked the students how many of them have ever experienced potential starvation - or even missed enough meals that they literally thought they were going to die if they missed another one. None of them had. I asked them how long they had gone without water - or liquid generally. Again, none of them had gone more than about a day-and-a-half, and each time was part of an official fast. I told them that I also have not experienced extreme hunger or thirst in my life, which means I don't understand this verse in quite the same literal way as many people do or would who might read it. For us, it is more of an intellectual understanding - and we might translate it as:

"Blessed are they who want righteousness so badly that they seek for it as passionately as people who are starving to death seek food and water."

We then talked about what "righteousness" means. After some discussion of various aspects, we settled on "being right with God" - and we talked about the two great commandments and how everything else hangs on love. Our Bishop had read from I Corinthians 13 where it says we are nothing without charity, no matter how great we are at other things - even extremely important things, so we talked about how we seek to become like Christ in order to be right with God - to be what he wants us to be.

"Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy."

I asked the students what mercy means. After a brief discussion, we looked up "mercy" on dictionary.com. (I love having students who have smart phones in class.) It said that mercy is forbearance to inflict harm or take action that is in our power to inflict. That means having the right and power to do something (generally something bad or punishing) but choosing not to do it.

We talked about situations in their own lived when people do something to them and they have the right or power to respond in a way that would cause harm of some kind. We talked about how mercy is important especially in situations where the other person is weaker or subordinate or unable to defend themselves but how there really aren't simple limits to mercy. I mentioned my favorite humorous statement about the lack of mercy:

I asked God to give me what I deserve, so he slapped me and sent me to Hell.

We talked about how we are told that we will be judged with the same judgment we judge others, which the second half of this verse says.

"Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God."

We talked about what it means to be pure. I asked them how many of them had taken a chemistry class and could tell me what pure means in chemistry. One of them said, "Not having any unnecessary elements", so we used that to talk about the concept of being stainless, spotless, free from corruption, etc. I also mentioned how much we miss when we talk of purity only in terms of chastity - that we need to understand it as perfectly (completely) as possible.

We then talked about what "heart" means in this context. We decided it could mean "spirit" or "core feelings" or "our desires and intent" or some other wording that focuses on our core identity. We talked again about the two great commandments and charity - how the reason we do things says as much about our "hearts" as anything else.

"Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God."

We spent a lot of time talking about this verse. For purposes of this summary, I am going to link to a few posts I wrote years ago on my personal blog, which served as the foundation for the discussion in class. I think this concept (being peacemakers and why that qualifies us to be called the children of God) is one of the most important, least understood principles in all of Christianity. If you want to see the outline of the discussion, read the following posts:

Blessed are the Peacemakers

They Shall Be Called the Children of God

Peace, Be Still: And There Was a Great Calm

We Can't Judge People Who Leave the LDS Church, Even if We Think We Understand Them

I know quite a few people who have had some intense struggles, of various kinds and to varying degrees. I know quite a few who once were active in the LDS Church who no longer are, due to those struggles.  I appreciated, deeply, Pres. Uchtdorf's talk in the Saturday morning session of General Conference this month, in which he said the reasons people become inactive or even leave the Church are more complicated than we often realize and that we need to respect and not judge them.  I only add that this is true if we don't understand but also, especially, if we assume we do.  

The

The following is one example.  I share it only to illustrate the point I want to make at the end of this post:

I know someone who was unable to live at home for a while during his teenage years.  He lived with friends for a while after he could no longer live at home, and, during that time, he had a couple of incredibly strong spiritual experiences - after first deciding to listen to the missionaries because both sister missionaries were "absolute babes".  (What can I say; he was 18.)        He is highly intelligent, and he "got it" very quickly.  He and I had some long talks, and he really did have some awesome experiences and insights.    He was baptized while living with his friends, then left for college a few months later.

When he first started college, he often walked miles to get to church on Sunday.  However, he had some negative experiences in his new ward that don't need to be detailed here; suffice it to say that they were real and strong and incredibly disappointing to me.   As a result of those experiences and the subsequent lack of the type of support system he had when he joined the Church, he began to return to the life he had lived prior to his baptism.  His dysfunctional adolescence had caused some very serious issues, and, left on his own (even by his new ward), they resurfaced.   I have prayed for him and hoped for him (and still do), but I have seen his actions take him away from activity in the Church. That has not diminished my love for him in the slightest.  

He returned home once for the summer, and his father mocked his inactivity by saying something like, "I guess that Mormon thing isn't working out for you."   His response gave me hope in the midst of my concern. He said to his father, "I'm not living the way I should be living, but the Mormon Church is still the truest thing I've ever heard.  I just have to get myself together before I can live it."  

I hang onto faith that "when he is old, he will not depart from it".  I KNOW his experiences and insights were real; he knows they were real.  I have to trust that God's grace and mercy truly will save him from the results of Adam's transgression in his life - and I see the issues that are keeping him from full activity directly as a result of what he inherited and what he had to "become" to cope - and the experiences he had in a non-supportive environment when he first was on his own.

I believe the Atonement is MUCH more powerful than we often realize. Surely, God understands those whose struggles overwhelm them, in whatever way and for whatever reason, and we someday will "stand all amazed at the love Jesus offers (them); confused at the grace that so fully he proffers (them)." In the meantime, as I said at the beginning of this post, we must love and respect and support and comfort them, if we don't understand and even if we think we do. 

What Should I Do When I'm Not Sure What to Do?

Do you picture a God who is just or merciful - or a combination of both?

I heard a wonderful little statement a while ago that I really like - more for it's shock value than anything else, since it really made me stop and think. It says:

I asked God to give me what I deserve - so he slapped me and sent me to Hell.

What I really love about "pure Mormonism" is that it posits that, in the end, there really is nothing that is required except your best effort to live according to the dictates of your own conscience and understanding - that mistakes are fine, as long as they are made in sincerity. (There's a lesson in there for how we view our leaders - past and present - at all levels.) If that's true of those who never heard the Gospel, it's true of those who did.

So, my answer to the title question is simple, but not easy:

I go with what seems like the right thing to me personally and trust that God will accept my best effort.

Cut Others the Slack You Hope God Cuts You

I believe strongly in teaching the ideal, but I also believe strongly in understanding that none of us live the ideal - and cutting others the same slack we hope God cuts us.

I want mercy, so I try to grant mercy; I want to be judged mercifully, so I try to judge mercifully; I know I have my own shortcomings and failures, and that I desperately need his grace, so I try not to place others outside that grace.

In the end, I simply have no clue what the eventual outcome will be for someone else. I just know I have to live the best I know how to live - and hope others don't require more of me than that.

A Stunning Post on Grace, Mercy and Violence

Grace Vis-a-vis Violence - StevenP (By Common Consent)

A Different Way to View Right and Wrong: Considering the Priesthood Ban

There is a HUGE difference between something not being God's ideal and something being "wrong" - in the sense that it could have been done differently. Let me use my own life as an example, first.

There are things I do that are not according to God's ideal. In a vacuum, they are - each and every one - "wrong". There also are things that my wife does that, in isolation, are "wrong". I flat out refuse, however, to insist that she change those things now - and I refuse to nag her and publicly say that she "should" be able to stop right this instant. As long as she (and I) is sincere in her heart and is trying to change, I accept fully her current ability to live the best she knows how - despite those areas where she still falls short of her own and God's ideal. She is who she is, and I love her dearly and unconditionally. I don't apologize for her, privately or in public; that would be judgmental and even more "wrong" than her weaknesses are in and of themselves.

An historical example:

Why do we assume that the early Church (meaning its living and breathing members, NOT the impersonal organizational entity), had to have been able to have our current racial understanding and acceptance - and why do we feel the need to apologize for them? Merciful heavens, they sacrificed and suffered in ways that I'm sure would have destroyed me. Just because they couldn't rise above their racism, why should we condemn them? Why should we insist that God should have MADE them do what they couldn't do - be who they couldn't be - and why do we assume God isn't crying over our own inabilities to live His law even while allowing us to stumble in our own weakness?

I believe, personally, that God allowed the Priesthood ban to exist and continue as long as it did specifically because He is so gracious and merciful and loving toward His children. I know that is counter-intuitive and sounds harsh when viewed from the perspective of those who were denied that blessing, but I desperately want Him to treat me that way, so I strive to allow Him to have treated racist but otherwise wonderful people the same way. "Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy." I can't express how much I desire to obtain mercy, and if that requires that I quit demanding others be who they aren't ready to be - in this case, to quit demanding past leaders not have been racist or demanding that current leaders claim to know what they simply don't know (e.g., why the Priesthood ban happened) - then that is something I am willing to do.

Do I think the ban "originated" from God - that God revealed it to the Church? NO - unequivocally. Do I think God allowed it to happen without forcing revelation that the Church probably couldn't have handled? Yes. Do I believe that inter-racial temple marriage would have caused schisms in a church soon to be torn by the practice then cessation of polygamy - perhaps destroying it in its relative infancy? Perhaps, and I lean toward, Yes. I believe the ban was the product of racism, but I'm not sure it was "totally wrong" - in that I'm not sure it could have been different, given the composition of the membership and the time in which they lived. Just as a start, to avoid the ban, someone else other than Brigham Young would have had to have been the prophet, and I'm not sure the Church would have survived without "The Lion of the Lord" at its helm during those years. The more I study the more I believe that, even with his flaws and speculation and strong- and sometimes narrow-minded opinions, he literally saved the Church during those hellish years.

The point is, I don't know if the ban was "wrong" in that sense, even though I think it was not what God wanted in His heart - not "right" from a moral sense. I just don't know. So I have no problem when our leaders say they don't know.

Charity: The Relationship Between Behaving Unseemly and Meekness

[This week as I have continued to ponder charity and not behaving unseemly, particularly as I have thought about the aspect of unseemly behavior I outlined last week from Romans 14, something I wrote almost exactly two years ago about being more merciful has weighed on my mind once again. Therefore, I am re-posting it this week in lieu of a "new" resolutions post]:

As I have continued to think about and try to practice being more merciful, something struck me that I had never considered previously. Considering it more deeply has been enlightening for me. [both then and now]

Being merciful might be categorized initially as being willing to forgive, but I think it is more fundamental than forgiving. Remember, one of the core definitions of mercy is "forbearance to inflict harm when one has the power to do so" - and I think there is a fundamental difference between forgiving and not harming. I think that we often focus so much on the first one (forgiving) that we sometimes forget about the second one (not harming) - and the thought that struck me is that forbearance to inflict harm must occur BEFORE true and total forgiveness can take place.

This is because "forgiveness" is focused on the offending person and is, as all who have been offended understand, a process. In order to "forgive", one must first be harmed in some way - but, more fundamentally, one must recognize that one has been harmed. Someone can harm me (and do so to a great degree), but if I am not aware of it (like instances of libel or slander that do not come to my attention) I cannot "forgive". Forgiving requires an understanding of harm, and requires an extension of mercy - by not demanding punishment that would constitute justice. In other words, if I am unable to extend mercy by forbearing to inflict harm when it is in my power to do so - and when it is "justified", I will be unable to forgive. This, in turn, will make me a bitter person - which will compel me to continue to judge and withhold mercy - which usually, if not always, will be done unrighteously (not in accordance with God's understanding and will) - which will, therefore, place me outside God's own mercy for my own transgressions. Only if I offer mercy to others will I be able to "obtain mercy" from God.

Forgiving what someone does to me requires that I proactively do something for them - extend the hand of mercy and not strike back. I have never considered "turning the other cheek" as an application of mercy, but this puts it squarely as a merciful act. This puts a new and compelling twist on the scripture I have read many times in my life but never seen quite this way:

"For all this his anger is not turned away, but his hand is stretched out still." (Isaiah 5:25)

I have read compassion in this verse (and others that use the same statement), but I have never framed it in terms of mercy. Each instance describes instances when the people of Israel have done things to reject their Lord, and each instance mentions the anger of the Lord at this rejection and the "just" result of that rejection - that his anger is not turned away. However, each verse ends by saying that His "hand is stretched out still".

The footnotes to Isaiah 9:12 (which contains the same phrase) provide the following additional clarification:

"IE In spite of all, the Lord is available if they will turn to him."

This is mercy at its most basic level.

In the grand scheme of things, being merciful might be the clearest, most practical way to define and understand forgiveness. If you truly have forgiven, you will not seek or do anything to inflict harm - either physical, financial, emotional or spiritual. You will, in a very real AND figurative sense, "turn the other cheek".

[As a post-script, I only will add that not behaving unseemly fits this same category of an active expression of mercy - by not doing something that is in one's power to do for no reason other than love and concern for others whose standards are different than your own.]

Refocusing on the Beatitudes

My resolution for this month is to refocus on the Beatitudes, taken from Matthew 7:24-27. To set the tone for this post, I want to highlight only the first phrase from this passage:

Therefore whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them . . .

It is critical to consider that the last words we have in the Sermon on the Mount are a very clear call to ACTION - a re-statement of the idea that not all who cite His name actually do His will and produce righteous fruit of the true vine. In that vein, as I recap the Sermon on the Mount at the end of this two-year resolution, I want to focus specifically on what "these sayings of mine" are - to identify exactly what Jesus meant in the final four verses of this wonderful sermon and, for the rest of this month, excerpt some of the things I have learned about some of those things. I also want to highlight each one in a way that draws it back to the exhortation to be someone who not only heareth but also doeth them.

So:

Blessed are the poor in spirit.

Are you a little more humble than you were a year ago?

Blessed are they that mourn.

Do you mourn (particularly with those who mourn) a little more than you did a year ago?

Blessed are the meek.

Are you a little meeker (more gentle, forgiving and benevolent) than you were a year ago?

Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness.

Do you crave righteousness a little more than you did a year ago?

Blessed are the merciful.

Are you a little more merciful (more compassionate, more willing to not punish others for their actions, more ready to let things go that bother you) than you were a year ago?

Blessed are the pure in heart.

Is your heart a little cleaner and more purified than it was a year ago?

Blessed are the peacemakers.

Is there a little more peace in your own soul, and do you bring a little more peace to those with whom you associate, than you did a year ago?

The time-line I have chosen is an arbitrary one, and I'm NOT suggesting that we must answer each and every question affirmatively in order to be following the admonition to do what we hear, but I believe strongly that we must be able to answer positively to at least SOME of the questions posed above (or others in the same vein) in order to be "faithful" and "repentant" as represented by the imagery of the wise man and his rock-built-upon house. I love Pres. Hinckley's plea to do a little more and be a little better, but I am convinced that the key is a constant and conscious movement forward - no matter the pace.

"Judge Righteous Judgment"

“Judging righteously” is perhaps the most over-used, mis-applied concept in religious history. I look at judging righteously as meaning making the exact same judgment that Jesus would make - based on both actions and the condition of a heart. All of us are required to judge actions, words and situations in a way that informs our own actions, words and responses, but not one of us should extend those types of judgments to the point of divisiveness, personal rejection, condemnation, or any other result that shuts the door on future fellowship - even with our enemies and those that spitefully use and persecute us.

For example, I truly hate and loath what a friend of mine did to his daughters, but I am commanded not to pass judgment on him - unless I am in a calling where that is required. If I knew absolutely everything that had contributed to his actions, then perhaps I could judge righteously, but I don’t have that understanding and knowledge. Therefore, it is not my right to pass judgment on him, even as I must pass judgment on his actions.

I don’t know enough about anyone who contributes to a blog to come CLOSE to a proper level of understanding to judge their faithfulness.

Cast Thy Burden Upon the Lord

I had an interesting insight during a prayer a few months ago. In all my years as a member of the Church - in all the countless meetings I have attended and all the countless times I have read the scriptures - in all my pondering over the years, I have not had the same thought in quite the same way. I'm sure it's not earth shatteringly profound, but it was powerful and thought-provoking for me. I also am sure it is a direct result of the contemplation I have been doing concerning the Lord's yoke, His grace and our gratitude for His matchless mercy.

What struck me is that all of us, when we become members of the Church, covenant to take certain responsibilities. We promise to comfort those who stand in need of comfort and mourn with those that mourn. We agree to the sacramental covenants, then Priesthood or YW's covenants, then temple covenants - as well as various callings within the Church's organizational structure. Although these things are meant to bring us growth and understanding and joy, in a very real sense they are "burdens" we agree to carry.

Psalms 55:22 says, in part: "Cast thy burden upon the LORD, and he shall sustain thee."

Ether 12:27 says: "And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them."

Matthew 11:28-30 says, in part: "Take my yoke upon you."

Here is what I learned: The concepts in these three verses constitute a complete solution; without the first and second, the third is impossible.

In simple terms, the Lord wants us to cast our own burdens at His feet and pick up those that He knows will give us strength and bring eternal life. Please take a moment to create that mental picture. Envision yourself removing a pack from your back or shoulders, setting it aside, then picking up a new pack to carry instead. If we fail to leave our own natural burdens with Him, then all we do when we assume the responsibilities of membership in His kingdom is to pick up a second pack and increase a load we already are unable to bear alone.

Each of us needs to figure out what this means in our own lives, with our own personalities and struggles, but, at a minimum, we need to accept His atoning grace and quit beating ourselves up over our natural weaknesses and tendencies - those things for which He has paid the price already. We need to recognize and accept the forgiveness He has offered already. We need to believe Him and what He has promised us.

If you are feeling overwhelmed by guilt or inadequacy or the burdens of your life, may I suggest a simple solution - not an easy one and not one that always will happen completely and all at once, but the only one of which I know that truly will work. Find a quiet place, where you can kneel totally alone and unable to hear anything else, and pour out your soul to your Heavenly Father - able to approach Him directly because of the grace of His Son. Tell Him of your anxieties, your fears, your weakness, your pain - then ask Him to take the burden from you and help you walk away from it. Repeat that request (something like, "I gave it to you; please help me leave it at your feet.") whenever you begin to feel overwhelmed - even if it means you have to do so sometimes in the middle of the confusion and chaos of your daily life. Take a deep breath, close your eyes if you can, and ask Him to intercede once more and keep you from picking up your natural load.

I have a deep and abiding testimony that if you cast your burdens upon the Lord, He truly will sustain you as you shoulder His yoke and begin to carry the burden He has chosen to make your weakness become strength.

Be Very Grateful We Don't Get What We Deserve

"A man asked me to treat him how he deserved to be treated - how God would treat him. So, I set him on fire and sent him to Hell." - Larry Smith

I think we need to thank God every day that He doesn't give us what we deserve.