It always amazes me the great lengths people will go to justify actions they themselves feel are wrong. Anotherwords if Mr. Archuleta really believed the drivel he spouted to the paper he would have just said no and been done with it. Yet he waffles on ad nauseam trying to justify his choice. To paraphrase:
I know what the Lord asked of all worthy young men but he clearly meant that for the masses and not me, because I am special. If the Lord had a true understanding of how awesome I am he would have worded the direction a little clearer. Luckily I am smarter than God and have a better picture of the situation and can fix his mistake, so no, I will not be going.
Hey, whatever. Mr. Archuleta can do what he wants and I agree that if he doesn't want to go he shouldn't. I know from experience that it is very difficult serving with someone who doesn't want to be there to begin with. Just please be honest and quit trying to sell us that line of BS that the reason you are not going is because you are doing something more spiritual and living up to a higher religious calling.
A long time ago I was asked at church by the powers to be to start a Ward blog. I said I would but stipulated that it would require regular participation from said powers among others. No problem they said. But after a couple 100 posts by me and no other participation I was about to give up. I decided to move out on my own and personally invited over a dozen individuals to help out and with one lone exception (thanks Renee - you are awesome) they completely ignored my requests. So I am in the process of killing it and bringing over all the links and content worth saving here.
So hence the lull in posts here as I have been dealing with that among other things. I am also expanding my links on the side posts, so if you want your blog listed email me and it shall be done.
Thank you for your patience and I will hopefully have regular content again (I do have three more book reviews to post but you have already had two today already - I will hold them for now).
PLEASE NOTE: This book struck a major chord with me and thus I go off on a rant at the end. But any charitable, religious minded individual should read this book to get a better grasp on what it means to be a follower of Christ in a world of sadness, need, and poverty.
When Colette was 17 years old growing up in Australia, the nightly news was featuring stories about the famine in Biafra, Nigeria. While her mind pondered this suffering she was also preparing for her entrance exams for medical school. Then she saw a documentary about Mother Teresa's order, the Missionaries of Charity, and she knew what she must do. Forgoing her college career she was determined to help the poor and needy now, and she became a nun within Mother Teresa’s order at age 18. I was surprised to learn that the MC’s operated out of dozens of countries and Colette started in Australia.
From there she served among the worlds poor from the Philippines to Hong Kong as Sister Tobit, but ultimately after 12 years of butting heads with controlling leaders she left the order to pursue her original dream of becoming a Doctor. She has spent the time since then serving in the remote settlements of Australia and war torn East Timor. This is a tremendous book that really shows where blind obedience meets faith, and sometimes they clash. The problem she describes in her book, the same struggles that caused her to lose her faith, I have seen within my own religious experience. On a grander scale it is the fight between the Loving and Saving Christ of the new testament and the self-righteous defenders of all that is “right” Pharisees. But to illustrate the main thrust of the book I am reminded of this old urban legend/joke:
An instructor at the Institute of Religion was teaching a course on the life of Christ over in the new East Institute building. On the last day of class, when students arrived for the final exam, they found a note on the chalkboard from their instructor saying that the exam would be given in the old West Institute building, across campus. The note on the board sent all the students rushing off to the West Institute, in order not to arrive late. On the way they all passed a pathetic old beggar who petitioned them for help as they hurried by. Nobody stopped for the beggar, however. When the students reached the other classroom on the west side of campus, their instructor was waiting. He asked the class if anyone had helped the beggar, and learning they had not, he informed them all that they had failed the final exam. The beggar, the instructor explained, was really an actor he had planted in their path. By ignoring him, the students had shown that they had studied the facts of Jesus' life without acquiring any of his compassion.
Sister Tobit’s problem was perpetually thinking she should stop for the beggar as it was her job. When arriving back late for holding one of her charges as he died, or admitting a sick child whose parents arrived on a Thursday (the Mother’s designated day off), or for wanting to fulfill a promise to a non-english speaking immigrant to go help fill out paperwork but not being able to (or even let the person know they couldn’t) because the Mother wanted some pots polished. Having suffering deigned the highest honor as it put you in understanding with Christ, not allowed to form friendships within the order, not allowed to have even a potted plant (or any possessions), having to beg for food from the poor when money was present to buy their own. (please note Mother in this sense is not referring to Mother Teresa, but rather the Mother Superior at her local house)
Anyways, when stopping for the beggar she did not receive the mythical “A”, rather she was berated for having too much pride. “Do you think you are the only one who could help?” “You think you are that important.” In a larger sense it strikes me as ironic that rather than obey the basic rules of the gospel, we overcome this by make more rules about the unimportant. It is more important how we dress, what hand we use in partaking the Sacrament, what color shirt we wear, what meetings we attend, what callings we have, etc. Ultimately I believe there will be some disappointed people one day who think helping out in Scouts, wearing a white shirt, avoiding diet coke & r rated movies, and their blind obedience to any number of Pharisaical rules will excuse their avoidance of the basics of the gospel of Jesus Christ, which is love. That is like me creating my own currency then fully expect my local stores to accept it as payment.
And to those of the “I show my love by wearing a white shirt”, etc; I say Merde de Bulle!! You show your love with LOVE. Christ’s life was a mission to bring others equal to him – to have all the Father has. In trying to emulate Christ is your mission in life to have everyone have all that you have? I suggest this, when serving others do not follow the prescribed path of forcing your religion on them as part of the deal. Just serve them and the converts will take care of themselves. Help where you can help, give where you can give, sacrifice where you can sacrifice. In my very limited opinion that will leave you in a lot better stead than just looking "good." Here is a short video of Colette talking about her experiences:
Finally - little factoid I learned - the nuns shave their heads. Maybe that is the norm and I am just ignorant, but interesting nonetheless (there must be a pun in there somewhere).
Now that is a completely different take on the movie than most people get. But think to yourself, did it actually show anything that wasn't technically true? I think this piece is brilliant because it reminds us that perspective of any given situation is highly personal. So while we may think it is impossible to see Mary Poppins as a horror movie, a reasonable person with limited information may sincerely draw that conclusion.
So the next time you are tempted to get overly excited about somebody else's opinion and begin professing it is the end of the world; just stop and take a breath. For all you know you are the one with the narrow mind and may be missing life's grand comedy, not your opponent. Who knows, maybe you are both wrong.
I just got back from driving the ward youth to the stake dance; it was held in a ward the other side of the stake from us - about a two hour drive. I remember as a youth we had one of those extreme rightwing, authoritarian types as a young men's president. His warped worldviews pervaded the whole program, but especially at dances. We couldn't play any songs that may in some paranoid delusion be connected to anything he thought was evil. Stuff like no The Fixx, because that was a slang term for a drug deal, or the Culture Club because they were gay. He was really a big proponent that back masking was the music world's way for turning us to the church of satan. With the sheer nutjobness of it all, it still boggles my mind that he could remain YMP. (though due to all the "lessons" he gave I still can't hear Another One Bites the Dust without thinking of marijuana).
Anyways, after eight months of this it was time for Ward Conference, a time for everyone to sustain their leaders. We as the young men took our time to do some research and learned that while we really would have a hard time voting nay for him, we did to a boy abstain from voting for him at the designated time. Given that ten of us were up front to pass the sacrament, it made a very loud statement to the Bishop, Stake President, and the congregation as a whole. Two weeks later we got a new guy in charge, and Brother King - where ever you are now - you were fantastic. One of my proudest moments as a member of the church.
At today's dance, while I sat in the lobby reading the below book, I heard this, among other things, being played loudly.
Most of you probably grew up watching and enjoying the Richmeister starting inane conversations with his coworkers as they tried to make copies. As great as that was, having one in your actual office, sitting next to your actual copier, starting even more pointless conversations is one of the most bloody annoying things in the world.
Women in her forties, talks in a high pitched baby voice, talks at a volume any normal person would only use to get someone's attention half a dozen cubicles away, always talking about herself, and top it off with the most incessant. pointless laugh ever heard. Imagine a pressure cooker with nervous laughs contained in it. The pressure gets to much and little forced giggles get released, ALL THE BLOODY TIME!! And she is laughing at things only she and maybe Golden Oldies radio show hosts find funny.
Talking out loud to herself (in high pitch sing song): "That's me. I get it done. I'm thorough. Thorough, thorough, thorough. Hey, I am a thoroughbred. The Kentucky Derby!"
Everytime you get close to her she starts making out-loud open ended statements just hoping you will engage her in conversation. I am actually walking to the other copier in the building just to avoid it. If you do talk she will begin saying Yeah, yeah yeah, yeah repeatedly.
Okay, I feel better. We did pass on this story and hoped for the best.
From this interview in the San Diego Press Democrat I quote:
