Our stake did Moroni’s Quest for the first time several years ago along with another stake.  This summer was the second time.  I went along as a general hey-you and chaperone.  Some of my teenagers went along as youth.

Having also gone on Pioneer Trek as an adult chaperone, I thought I would do a comparison.

For those who are unaware, Moroni’s Quest is when the youth normally ages 14-18 go somewhere and simulate participating in the events of the Book of Mormon for a few days, usually in costume.  Pioneer Trek is where the youth go somewhere and simulate participating in the western trek of the LDS pioneers by camping in the woods but pulling their supplies in a handcart instead of in a backpack,  usually in costume.  Both have a number of little set pieces and devotionals and such, and fun activities mixed in.

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Paul in his typical way lets the wicked high priest have it with both barrels.

And the high priest Ananias commanded them that stood by him to smite him on the mouth. ³Then said Paul unto him, God shall smite thee, thou whited wall: for sittest thou to judge me after the law, and commandest me to be smitten contrary to the law? ⁴And they that stood by said, Revilest thou God’s high priest? ⁵Then said Paul, I wist not, brethren, that he was the high priest: for it is written, Thou shalt not speak evil of the ruler of thy people.

Then he apologizes when he finds out it was the high priest.

What to make of this?  Remember there is no question that this high priest was apostate and was part of an apostate line.

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One of the best parts of the blog is looking at the list of post titles that Zen and John Mansfield have decided not to publish.  Sometimes for good reasons, but wow, those are some intriguing little glimpses.

I am not particularly gifted with dreaming. Still, I had an interesting dream Saturday.

I dreamt that the Savior visited each of his people, though they did not see him. He wanted to do some miracle in their lives. But first he wanted to test and evaluate them, to see if they were ready. The tests were little minor things, but most often people failed them, and in a way rejected Him. The people did not see the Savior or His disappointment when they were not ready. He would come back later, perhaps tomorrow, and try again.

The verse that really resonated with this:

Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me. Rev 3:20

Now, I am sincerely wondering what those little tests would be in my life, and what I need to do to be ready.
I am still looking.

Higher Education as Privilege Laundering

What if We’re the Bad Guys Here? – David Brooks – NYT (link to archived article)
The discussion by the Reddit/SlateStarCodex folks are hilarious, horrified by this “Conservative” David Brooks. They struggle to comprehend how their class could have unfair advantages, and are not very much interested in any case.

If education has merely become a way for privilege to perpetuate itself, then I am beginning to feel about it like I feel about the Hollywood strike. The Studios are dealing in bad faith and are trying to force a bad deal, hoping to bankrupt writers so they are forced into a bad deal. The writers feel likewise. I, for one, hope they are both successful in their duels to the death.

When do we try to fix things, and when do we just let them destroy themselves?
We do the best we can first, because we understand the results of rejecting the Word of God.

We can’t and shouldn’t force these things, but we need to be ready to build a better world. Because we are going to be the only ones doing so.

From SC. Lots to chew on.

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One theme of this blog is that the great value of mortality and the body is opportunity cost.  It is the great gift of being able to do things, which also means the great gift of not being able to do other things because of the one thing you are doing.  We don’t  normally think this way, but it is true that every time you do something you are sacrificing a million different actions that you could be doing but aren’t; in fact, literally sacrificing an infinite number of possible actions.  The limits of mortality make each action of yours extremely valuable.  And that, for an immortal spirit, is a desirable thing.

Some economists point out that in some situations scarcity is a good thing.  It increases the value of the scarce good.

You have perhaps 70 years of mortality as compared to the forever of immortality.  This time is infinitely precious (which is one reason why even believers are right to fear and avoid death).

A child is gestated and dies in the womb.  That means that experience of just being, of just existing in rhythm with its mother, is one unique experience which compared to forever is infinitely precious. The person will never have that experience again.

The usual thrust of this line of thinking is to deplore how much you are wasting your time on frivolity.  And, sure, be sure to improve the shining moment.

But I would like to look at it a different way.  Because your mortal time is infinitely precious, the most valuable thing you as a divine being will ever have to spend, you are every day engaged in acts of wild generosity.  If you read some pulpy genre novel for a few hours, you have conferred an immortal boon on the author, you have lavished on him generosity beyond the human scale.

By writing this, I have poured out infinite profligate gifts on you to a height that only a god can conceive.  By reading it, you have reciprocated at that same princely divine level.  Here I give you the the jewels of the Orient, which we call time.  You respond with peacocks and ivories, also called time.  We don’t know what we do now.  But when we are grown, we will appreciate how greatly we have gifted each other.

There is a connection or metaphor to the atonement here.  I am groping for it.  Perhaps a Jordan Petersen type would better be able to explain.

In the atonement, my solitary mortal acts require an infinite sacrifice on the part of a God.  And the whole thing is an act of grace.

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One good thing about becoming middle-aged is it reveals to you your inner solipsism.  You feel aches and pains springing up here and there and it feels to you like some unique injustice.  Why of all the world is this cruel curse come upon me, you cry, because apparently in some part of your mind the experience of literally every one else ever doesn’t count.

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