Say what you hear.
Among other things, I am looking for insight on how to be more than I am and how to lead my family to greatness in time and eternity.
I also hope to spend some time at the foot of the cross with some of the speakers, this being Easter weekend.
The ruler of that land was called the Tiger King. He lived in great luxury and had utter sway from harvest to harvest.
When the harvest was in, he stepped down. The time for choosing who would next wear the Tiger Crown came.
The choosing went like this. They had a certain large field where they held a combat. The last man standing among all the aspirants took the Tiger Crown for the next year. But this was no ordinary combat. Each man had to be mounted on a tiger. Either his own, or one that would be provided.
More men were laid low by their own tiger then by another’s blows. (more…)
A great bear came out of his winter cave to see the sun rising pink over the still snow-patched fields and meadows. The bare trees were dark against that brilliant light. The bear was overwhelmed and had what he felt was a vision of true insight. “Beauty is good,” he said to himself.
He painstakingly set to etch patterns in each claw using his other claws and gentle patient nibbles with his great jaw. It took a long time. The changes were subtle. But when he was done he was an ordinary bear in all other respects, but each claw was truly beautiful.
In his rejoicing, he lifted a great log and tossed it, and felt the joy and glory of his strength. “Strength is good,” he said to himself, and then improved his strength in the ways that even bears can do. When he felt himself to be truly strong, even for a great bear, and with his claws truly beautiful, he went forth slashing and destroying. He knocked down and ripped and tore and left broken trees and dying animals and dead men and women in his wake and horrible death and corruption. In that way he became the first ogre and the grandfather of all that kind.
Moral: Beware isolated beauty. Beware isolated truth.
There once was a man who was born to be a womanizer. Without trying he grew up tall and remarkably handsome. He had a natural talent for mixing sympathy and teasing, with a lot of interest and empathy for woman but also had a kind of untouchable and remote inner core–social dynamite. He had catholic tastes in girls and was attracted to sex. He even–please don’t judge him, it just happened–had a sort of sixth sense for someone’s inner vulnerabilities that could be exploited. All in all, he would have been a superlative womanizer and he knew it. Fortunately for him, he grew up a follower of Christ. Though he knew he could womanize and saw the appeal of doing something that he was very good at, it didn’t work with the burning vision God gave him of leading a beloved wife and children and grandchildren into the eternities. A natural talent for womanizing doesn’t just turn into a natural talent for being a husband, it turns out. There were bumps along the way. Sometimes when he thought of the great gift he had been born with, he had to laugh.
[Editor’s note: yes, this is weird even by our standards. Dunno, it just came to me]
Any institution will get loaded down with extras over time. Its people will then have to pare back.
The paring back can go too far.
You can lose redundancy. You have cored and cored until if the one pillar left in your building falls, the whole thing falls.
You can also lose actual core functions. No one institution can do anything itself, so any corporate body trying to focus on its ‘core’ will inevitably cut out some things that matter but that in theory should be available from outside. No sheep rancher puts ‘provide daylight’ on his priority tasks list. But daylight is a priority.
If there are needful things that cannot be provided outside the institution, they must be provided in some way. If you are in the desert, irrigation is a core farm function.
* * *
Us: Rites of passage for men aren’t a core function for the Church of Christ, it shouldn’t get in the way of proselyting, which is core. Let that be provided elsewhere.
Elsewhere: Howling social wasteland
One way of understanding recent history in the Church is that the institution is no longer doing everything that has to be done, which means members must step in to do them. If the Church keeps doing it until the members do their own, the members will never do their own. So the Church just . . . stops.
Marriage is a core function. It is indispensable. Which means that getting the man-woman thing right is needful. Without it, down we go.
That’s why we spend so much time working at the man-woman thing here. Not because its so much fun. Because its so important. We try out different ideas, kick them around, try to work a bit in the space that the Church isn ‘t. Some of you don’t like it. Let me ask you: if not us, who?
There were two brothers who had ambition. Once their parents died, they set out through means fair and only a little bit foul to acquire as much power and possessions as they could.
It was a hard struggle.
They made enemies.
At last they owned all that they could see and were the men in their community whose decisions mattered. There were limits to what they possessed, of course. Two men can only manage so much. And there were limits to their authority–they had enemies, they could only push so far without provoking a reaction. But they had all the reasonable targets for their ambition and as much property and power as they could reasonably expect to hold. They could at last relax a little. They held a great feast to mark the completion of their aims.
A few days after, the lean brother came to the stout one.
“Brother,” he said, “I am giving it all up. I am leaving everything behind. I am going to go to a far country with only the clothes on my back, where no one knows me, where I have no credit nor reputation. I am going to start with nothing there. Everything here is yours unless you want to come with me.”
“What? Of course not”
The stouter brother was appalled. It would be extremely difficult to hold his position with just him. It could be done, just barely, but it would require unremitting toil. And he would miss his brother. He brooded for a bit and then burst out in an exclamation.
But his leaner brother had been brooding too, because he also burst out in an exclamation. It was the same exclamation, and at the same time.
“How can you be satisfied with so little?”
For no real reason, I wrote a silly rhyming word on my whiteboard at work.
“Boogie woogie”
Some coworkers added to it. “Loosie-goosie” “humbug” “hankie-pankie”
Another colleague came by and wrote “hysteron proteron.” It was awkward, because this colleague thinks I’m literate and expected me to know the term. Whereas I’d never seen it before. His explanation was cursory, we were both embarrassed, so I looked it up more after he left.
It’s a rhetorical figure where you invert a sequence to emphasize the more important latter part of the sequence or just to add a flourish.
Born and bred
The article I read translated it (pretty loosely, I think) as “first last.”
This was earlier this week.
That night, I read a Nevil Shute book where one guy gets a cold. Why? Well, he sheepishly admits, he joined a great club called the Hysteron Proteron where they live one day backwards. They start with a formal dinner early in the morning and end with a little breakfast and he ended up outside in the damp at an unusual hour.
OK. That wouldn’t be the first time I learn a new word and start seeing it everywhere. Though its a highly unusual new word.
The next morning we read D&C 29 which spends verses and verses on the gospel saying that the first shall be last, and the last first.
I don’t understand why. I am already the kind of person who is going to think a verse about the first being last is important because I have a taste for the mysterious and for paradox. I don’t need any supernatural highlighting.
I sometimes think that reality is just kinda filled with meaning and connection and some of it is directed from above with a purpose and some of it is just kinda there.
***
I dreamed and it felt like a significant dream about a man who went online as ‘nurnin.’ But I don’t known any nurnins.
Satan said, give me thine honor, which is my power.
-D&C 29.
Honor is power.
There is an overwhelming amount of pointers in scripture towards a metaphysics which is based on honor, glory, and power, which is almost completely ignored. The few people who do address it have silly reductionist things to say about it.
And the righteous shall be gathered on my right hand unto eternal life; and the wicked on my left hand will I be ashamed to own before the Father;
28 Wherefore I will say unto them—Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels.
29 And now, behold, I say unto you, never at any time have I declared from mine own mouth that they should return, for where I am they cannot come, for they have no power.
30 But remember that all my judgments are not given unto men; and as the words have gone forth out of my mouth even so shall they be fulfilled, that the first shall be last, and that the last shall be first in
That “but” looks like its going to be a qualification on the apparent eternal state of the damned. But the revelation launches into a discussion of spiritual and temporal creation and never addresses damnation again. I don’t know what to make of it.
31 For by the power of my Spirit created I them; yea, all things both spiritual and temporal—
32 First spiritual, secondly temporal, which is the beginning of my work; and again, first temporal, and secondly spiritual, which is the last of my work
Creation is first spiritual, then temporal. Easy enough. But what is the inverse part at the last mean? First resurrection, then the sanctification of the soul? First the millennium and then the celestial earth?
On the sweetness
A sister gives a talk about her dream job.
She got it about a year ago. She felt inspired to take it.
It has been rough on her family with her out of the home.
Last week a young lady taught a lesson to the young women on the Proclamation on the Family. She, the sister with the dream job, felt inspired to go back to being at home. So she gave notice.
Could this meeting be a zoom?
Could this zoom be a phone call?
Could this phone call be an email?
Could this email be a text?
Could this text be unsent?
Could we in silence retreat to the forest?
Could we, by game trails & forgotten paths, vanish into the trees?
-thus Louis Evans
Women connect, men synthesize.
Not completely sure its true or kind.
But our ironclad policy is to post whatever pops into our heads.
I recommend this talk by Elder Maxwell about Joseph Smith. His literary bent shows him the rhythm and contrast, the tragic poetry, that lies in Joseph Smith’s life and in ours.
Great courage, great strength, great passion — and going peaceably to his death.
After a glorious visitation, a laborious implementation.
Remarkable manifestations, along with constant vexations.
Befriended by heavenly notables, betrayed by some of his earthly friends.
Receiving keys and gifts, but the painful loss of six of his eleven children.
That is Joseph Smith’s poetry.
When you come to passages in your own life that are troubling, keep reading. Dauntless the slug horn to your lips set and blow.
P.S. I loved this passage.
President Young said that those who knew Joseph could tell when “the Spirit of revelation was upon him, … for at such times there was a peculiar clearness and transparency in his face.” (In Journal of Discourses, 9:89.)
Marilyn Nielson The very best available
My children, my children,
my jewels of my heart.
Time, death, and distance
will ne’er long us part.
Romans held actors and actresses in great contempt. They classified them as a form of prostitute. The plays they acted in were often extremely lewd and they often just were prostitutes. The Roman attitude makes sense and one wishes we could adopt it. It is hard to think of a single redeeming feature of our celebrity culture. (more…)