Faith, Hope, and Charity, even with Reduced Church Expectations

I recently finished reading Armand Mauss's memoir, "Shifting Borders and a Tattered Passport: Intellectual Journeys of a Mormon Academic". Aside from a few areas where I'm more liberal minded, I often felt throughout the book that he and I are kindred spirits. He offers a really healthy, candid, and refreshing perspective. This excerpt is the final two paragraphs of the book:

So it is that I have continued to value my membership in the LDS church...and to give it my voluntary loyalty, even when I have believed church policies to be in error in certain respects and even on several occasions when I have felt personally offended. Well into my ninth decade of life, I have felt no more inclination to leave the church than I have felt to leave the nation, though, as I said, I have become disenchanted or disenthralled. Yet – and this is important – it has been precisely my disenchantment that has inoculated me against disillusionment, because of the concomitant reductions in my expectations. That is, an understanding of the church and its leaders as human and mortal has kept me from holding out unrealistic expectations for their performance. This has left me free to offer them my own support, loyalty, respect, and appreciation as fellow laborers in the vineyard, but not as contingent on an inerrant execution of their duties. 

When I have been critical of church policies, practices, or leaders, this kind of emotional detachment has also left me free to express myself, in fair and respectful terms, without an accompanying anger that might have led to my departure from the church. During those occasions, described in chapter 9, when I was called in by leaders for interviews about my publications, I was able to arrive without indignation, because I had long since learned to see the church as an impersonal bureaucracy, with the local leaders simply doing their best to cope with unpleasant responsibilities sometimes imposed on them by their roles. I entered these interviews expecting to be treated fairly. I was prepared to hear and consider criticism, but I was never obsequious. I saw my relationship to the church as separate from my relationship with Deity, so that if I were to be unfairly treated or disciplined by church leaders, I could count on Deity eventually to make things right. In these respects, I guess one could say that I have always tried to look on the church and its leaders with faith, hope, and charity, even while keeping my expectations modest. I suspect they might say the same about me.

Where There Is Charity and Love, God Is There

One of the highlights of my time singing in the BYU Concert Choir was singing this version of Ubi Caritas. This video doesn't quite capture the interpretation we gave it that was so profound to me, but the sound is still good. Most importantly, it's a profound message:

http://youtu.be/0hX8X_025fw

Latin Text
Ubi caritas et amor, Deus ibi est.
Congregavit nos in unum Christi amor.
Exsultemus, et in ipso jucundemur.
Timeamus, et amemus Deum vivum.
Et ex corde diligamus nos sincero.

Ubi caritas et amor, Deus ibi est.
Simul ergo cum in unum congregamur:
Ne nos mente dividamur, caveamus.
Cessent iurgia maligna, cessent lites.
Et in medio nostri sit Christus Deus.

Ubi caritas et amor, Deus ibi est.
Simul quoque cum beatis videamus,
Glorianter vultum tuum, Christe Deus:
Gaudium quod est immensum, atque probum,
Saecula per infinita saeculorum. Amen.

English Translation
Where charity and love are, God is there.
Love of Christ has gathered us into one.

Let us rejoice in Him and be glad.
Let us fear, and let us love the living God.
And from a sincere heart let us love one.

Where charity and love are, God is there. 
At the same time, therefore, are gathered into one: 
Lest we be divided in mind, let us beware. 
Let evil impulses stop, let controversy cease. 
And in the midst of us be Christ our God.

Where charity and love are, God is there. 
At the same time we see that with the saints also, 
Thy face in glory, O Christ our God:
The joy that is immense and good, Unto the 
World without end. Amen.

Speaking Words of Wisdom

From Margaret Blair Young's post: "Here I Stand. God Help Me, I Can Do No Other.":

When I spoke to a friend recently who is questioning his faith and no longer feels comfortable at church or in the temple, I suggested that he find his own sacred grove and nurture spiritual feelings while the faith issues work themselves out. This person finds spiritual comfort through music, which can lead to spiritual awakening. Songs ranging from “Lead Kindly Light” to “O Happy Day!” can touch us with a sense of the divine and help us seek truth without the burden and pollutant of anger. The statement, “I have been deceived!” is full of anger. If it becomes the starting premise for a spiritual journey, the journey will end in a tempest of rage. There are always other angry people to support angry statements, and those who phrase their fury cleverly are often rewarded by words like “courageous” and “unflinching.” There will always be angry communities. Even if we feel anger is justified, I would urge all of us to ponder the words of Desmond Tutu: “Each act of forgiveness, whether small or great, moves us closer to wholeness.” Consider that statement with the Savior’s poignant question: “Wilt thou be made whole?”

The statements, “I have been loved!” or “I have been forgiven!” lead away from anger, and tend to come in private, reflective, redemptive moments.

I, Margaret Blair Young, have been loved by parents who were faithful to each other and to their beliefs. I have been loved and protected by God. My testimony is not founded in objective fact—which might exist in mathematics but is rare in religion—but in joy and love, which are the fruits of the Spirit. Such feelings let me know that I’m in tune with the divine. As I continue on my spiritual journey, I do see miracle after miracle, which I would not see (and perhaps would not receive) were I whirling in the winds of anger. Anger always confuses perspective and direction and becomes its own tempestuous support—the hurricane under the large and spacious building...

As I have grown and now find myself in my 60th year, revelatory instruction has urged me to flee from argument, to hold out my arms to those who are hurting, to prove my love before I prove my point. I have not always succeeded, but I know that I have been so instructed ...

As to the question of the day—that gender question—I predict, under no authority whatsoever, that we will see significant change and growth over the next twenty years. It will be slow, and those who will be a part of it must be patient and humble. I predict that we will see the ordination of women—but not in the way OW has framed it. I suspect that women will be ordained to a female order of the priesthood, and will be ordained—put into order–to carry out specific assignments. For me, the Divine Feminine is ORDAINED to nurture. This idea is something I have grown into. As a young person, I was antagonistic, argumentative, ready to debate just about anything. At least that’s how I appeared. Actually, I was deeply insecure but had a good vocabulary and used it as my shield. As I have grown and now find myself in my 60th year, revelatory instruction has urged me to flee from argument, to hold out my arms to those who are hurting, to prove my love before I prove my point. I have not always succeeded, but I know that I have been so instructed. I have dealt with difficult circumstances as a mother, but have felt supported in all of my trials—not just so that I could feel comforted, but so that I could comfort my children and bear them up.

The best image I have ever seen of the Divine Feminine is in the film Tree of Life. That woman, that grieving, graced, and graceful mother is the quintessence of how I view the Divine Feminine. I hope she is what I am becoming...

I believe in Heavenly parents, a Heavenly Father and Mother; in Jesus Christ who is my exemplar, and in the Holy Ghost, whose peacemaking and consolation I have felt in my most difficult moments. I believe in the divine nature of all human beings, and honor all honest spiritual quests.

I believe in the restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ in its essential points through Joseph Smith, flawed though he was. I believe that he did not fully understand his own prophetic gift, but that God was nonetheless able to work through him. I seek to hold to the core of that restored gospel and not to tarry in the cluttered suburbs.

I believe in visions and revelation. Though I have not had visions, I have many friends who have. I have had revelations which continue. I have had more miracles than I can count, and many which I likely didn’t recognize at the time.

I believe in the power of faith, which works by love, and in love, which casts out fear.

I believe in eternal progression, that “second chances” go beyond this life, that we continue to learn and to grow, and that our potential is infinite, even godly. I believe this “eternal progression” applies to the Church as well. I believe that the Church of Jesus Christ will, in the eternities, include all who choose to come unto Him regardless of what denomination they chose earlier. I know of no other Christian religion which holds such an expansive view of human and spiritual possibilities. We aren’t talking about equality but about glory.

I believe in the vision of Eve not as the cursed but as the courageous one who understood that we must pass through sorrow in order to grow. I think of Eve as figurative and symbolic of all women who listen not only to their husbands but to the word of the Lord, sometimes mediating between the two voices (which may be at odds) and thus helping to direct the companioned life.

I believe in the power of faith catalyzed by love as inherent in what we call the priesthood of God, though I do not pretend to understand the fullness of that priesthood.

I believe in the restorative power of the temple, though I recognize that it is not restorative for all. It is my sacred grove, where I leave the world for a time, where I become consciously still and so can feel the presence of the divine. I wear my temple garments with joy, and see them as the emblem of my own priesthood strength.

I believe in the power of church structure, that wards shepherded by imperfect men and women (I see both the bishop and the Relief Society president as shepherds) can provide community, aid, and instruction for all who seek a moral compass and friends to journey with. I would change many things about the manuals, the music, and the length of meetings, but I believe in the intrinsic value of the structures.

I believe in family as the basic church unit, and in our ability to learn the most essential lessons as children, parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, brothers and sisters as we simply try to get along with one another.

I believe that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is dynamic, that we are YOUNG, and currently experiencing a growth spurt which is at times ugly and sometimes embarrassing. We have pimples, and we are thinning out. Our coordination can be awkward, and we can say impetuous and thoughtless things. Nevertheless, we are growing into something magnificent. If we knew all of the stories from around the world of those who have joined the LDS community, we would be in awe of our fellow members and amazed by our privilege to associate with them.

I believe that the men and women who dedicate themselves to serving the Lord within the LDS structure are almost all sincere and are often inspired—more often than many suspect. They weary themselves to spread the good news of the gospel or to tend those who join the Mormon community wherever it may be, and they do it with little or no compensation. I cherish the volunteer aspect of the Church, and the fact that everyone is asked to do something to keep the community alive and loving. We fail sometimes. But if each does all that they can in the spirit of love, we arise again and move forward.

I believe that as I seek to identify everything “praiseworthy and of good report” within the Church, I will find it. I believe that when I find something less than praiseworthy, I should talk about it, but in the spirit of community and respect, not as gossip or with antagonism. I seek to focus on the lovely.

I proclaim my faith in this gospel. Here I stand as a committed member who will not be moved from this place. God help me, I can do no other.

- See more at: http://www.patheos.com/blogs/welcometable/2014/07/here-i-stand-god-help-me-i-can-do-no-other/#sthash.ipHRxok8.dpuf

Guest Post at Rational Faiths: Putting Down Our Stones

While I hope that my brain and intellect would always be clear and active, it is my heart that tells me what's most important. My heart tells me this is one of the most important messages: Putting Down Our Stones

Putting Down Our Stones

"Mother Teresa, a Catholic nun who worked among the poor in India most of her life, spoke this profound truth: ‘If you judge people, you have no time to love them.’ The Savior has admonished, ‘This is my commandment, that ye love one another, as I have loved you.’ I ask: can we love one another, as the Savior has commanded, if we judge each other? And I answer—with Mother Teresa: no, we cannot." Putting Down Our Stones
—Thomas Spencer Monson, “Charity Never Faileth”, General Relief Society Meeting, October 2010

I've been contemplating several Christian messages lately, looking especially for how Jesus treated the various individuals he encountered during his life. I've been moved by the treatment of a particular woman in John 8 who had been unfaithful—and everyone knew it. The religious leaders wanted to focus on the punishment for sin, but Jesus shifts the focus to the judgement being heaped upon her. Jesus lives the higher law here, choosing to love the woman instead of berating her for being an adulteress.

I think we can make an important connection between this vignette and the current treatment of our gay brothers and sisters, friends and family. In doing this, however, I do not want to be misunderstood. I want to be clear that I’m not comparing adultery and homosexuality; I am comparing two narratives of judgement. Jesus's point was that judgement of others (or in this instance—condemning sin in others) was a sin in and of itself.  The only time we should openly condemn sin is when we find it within ourselves.

While it's true this vignette portrays someone who actually was committing a sin, only he who was without sin could be the rightful judge. Most importantly, in preface to the connection I'm trying to make, just being gay is not a sin. We would do well to retire “love the sinner, hate the sin” in reference to homosexuals because, again, there is no sin in being gay. Traditional religious teachings that made this assumption have evolved, and current traditional assumptions are being challenged quite articulately here, I might add. I personally don’t think Jesus is overly concerned with our sexual orientation, but I’m convinced he definitely cares about us as individuals.

The impressive takeaway from this is Jesus's treatment of an individual to whom harsh judgement was being shown—particularly by the religious leaders. It was the religious leaders, after all, who brought the woman caught in adultery before him. Their treatment of her was most callous and demeaning, and they judged her behavior harshly. Regardless of how often the punishment was actually carried out, the Mosaic Law requires stoning for those who commit adultery (vs 5) and I almost get the sense that these men were enjoying the idea. Undoubtedly she would have been filled with fear and, because of such public shaming, humiliation. I imagine this to have been quite an intense moment…so how did Jesus respond?

His response was profound. He called for one without sin to cast the first stone (vs 7). Who would take responsibility for the judgement now? No doubt this caused them to reflect on their own sinfulness before God. The fact that the entire crowd ends up dispersing is an implicit confession of their own sins. By condemning another they would be condemning themselves.

In the end others opinions, accusations, shaming, and judgment will not matter anyway. Ultimately it's between Jesus and the individual. And in this case Jesus and the woman were left alone (vs 9). She, who is so vulnerable, comes face to face with the Vulnerable God himself. In this vulnerability there is love, and he alleviates her vulnerability and the shame she might feel by pointing out that her accusers had withdrawn—they too were not sinless (vs 10). He doesn’t even ask about the charges. Then he tells her: "Neither do I condemn thee: go, and sin no more" (8:11). Misery...meet mercy.

While Jesus may not have condoned her behavior, he most certainly did not condemn her. He showed compassion and love. That is what matters here—and that’s what matters today. It’s clear that when all of Jesus's life experiences and teachings are taken as a whole, he focused much of his time and energy on those in society who felt the most marginalized. The Parable of the Good Samaritan teaches that in order to be a good neighbor we must show mercy to even the most despised. I’ve felt for quite some time that we must model the Samaritan’s compassionate courage to our gay neighbors. Regardless of our personal comfort, he explicitly expects us to go and do likewise (Luke 10:37).

The experience with the woman taken in adultery captures as well as anything the essence of Christ's new covenant: we are supposed to be in the love business rather than the condemnation business. We can show love and compassion by being considerate of those who are hurting, mourning with those who mourn, rejoicing with those who rejoice, loving without conditions of worthiness, and being respectful of each individual—because above all they too are a child of God. We show compassion by communicating in a warm way, showing empathy, being kind, having genuine concern for the one, accepting people for who they are at their core, and doing no harm.

Jesus is not on record as ever teaching anything about homosexuality, but I like to think this experience should inform how we treat our gay brothers and sisters. Indeed, it should inform how we treat all our brothers and sisters. Put down our stones and show some compassion.

What does it matter to us if the woman had been unfaithful? That's her burden to bear, her path to walk. No one is advocating for a life of sin followed by a get-out-of-jail-free card, but Jesus seems to be placing the emphasis on the importance of striving to be our best selves and extending mercy to everyone else. We each, in our own ways, are at times unfaithful to Christ and yet he loves us; he doesn't condemn us. "For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him" (John 3:17 ESV). It is not our place to say what is or isn’t sin for someone else. Jesus is mighty to save, but ultimately that’s his job.

If Jesus himself declined to condemn an actual sinner caught “in the very act” (vs 4), then we certainly have no business making a point to express disapproval of anyone else’s life, homosexual or not. I’m pretty sure the only sin for which I will be held accountable is mine personally—whatever prevents me from being “at one” with God and my neighbor. He was pretty adamant that our greatest responsibility is just to love—love God and “love thy neighbor as thyself’ (Matthew 22: 35-40; Mark 12: 28-34).

Does Jesus ever even mention to the woman what he personally thought about what she had done? He doesn’t have to—most likely she already knew what he believed. What’s most impressive is that he was more concerned with showing compassion to her, doing so both publicly and privately. Jesus then went on to teach that if we follow his example, we will not walk in darkness but have the light of life (John 8:12). Whatever that light-filled life means, it sounds like a much better way to live—for everyone involved.

It turns out that being about Jesus's and his Father's love business (and staying out of others business) is a really beautiful business to be in. Condemnation and judgement, on the other hand, are ugly—and a sin. Now, go and sin no more.

Jesus Said Love Everyone

For whatever reason I've become a lot more sympathetic towards those who don't quite "fit the mold"--whatever that means. I also sympathize much more with those who no longer share in my faith, those of no faith, and those who choose a different lifestyle altogether.

Why is it that even our evolution into becoming less judgmental we are sometimes most critical towards our own people--those closest to us?

There are Latter-day Saints who are indeed Saints, and there are LDS who are judgmental bigots. I must remember that my job is to love them all. I must extend the grace Heaven knows I so desperately need.