"Fear Not to Do Good."

President Eyring's talk "Fear Not to Do Good" has an intriguing title. That is some atypical advice. Why would that advice ever need to be given? Why would anyone ever fear to do good? Unfortunately, that sort of situation comes up far too often. Often, due to peer pressure or other factors, people feel afraid to publicly do what they think is right. Sometimes, out of a fear of punishment, people try to cover up their behavior instead of taking responsibility for it. Whatever the reason(s), people sometimes let things of this world seem more important than the things of eternity. Thus, people sometimes worry more about temporal blessings than spiritual blessings, instead of the other way around. Doing the right thing may be unpopular, and it may even require some sacrifices, but it will always result in eternal blessings that far outweigh the costs. So, in the end, we have very little to be afraid of. Doing good may not meet with the world's approval, but I'd ultimately rather face the world's disapproval than God's.

Spiritual Alarms

Elder W. Craig Zwick spoke of spiritual alarms that can not only warn us of danger but also inform us of the right way to go. "Yet," Elder Zwick warned, "we sometimes ignore these feelings of reminder and alarm." This is often far too easy. The promptings of the Spirit are subtle. If we're not paying enough attention, and if we're not willing to listen, we may miss the spiritual promptings, along with the warnings and directions that come with them. So, let's listen to our spiritual alarms and not hit the snooze button when we feel directed to do something. These promptings tend to be important, and some of them may be too important to ignore.

Conference Again Already

Today, in Sacrament meeting, and again while Home Teaching, the subject of General Conference came up. This struck me as odd at first, since General Conference is in April, and it's still Febrary. But the more I thought about it, the more sense it made to bring Conference up now. There are only a few days of Febrary left, and Conference is always early in April, so, from a certain perspective, Conference is only a month and a few days away, making now a good time to start preparing for Conference.

It's time to start thinking about questions and studying gospel topics that interest us that the General Authorities might shed some additional light on, if we're paying attention. It's time to get ourselves attuned to the Spirit so He can inspire us to pick up on the messages the Lord wants us to hear. It's time to review the messages in the last General Conference to how they'll relate to the messages of next Conference, because the next General Conference is coming up faster than I had realized. We need to make sure we're prepared.

Adjust the Sails

In his talk, Turn to the Lord, Bishop W. Christopher Waddell said something that sounded rather familiar:

In this mortal experience, we cannot control all that happens to us, but we have absolute control over how we respond to the changes in our lives.

This quote reminded me of the several similar quotes about wind and sails, the basic idea being that, no matter what winds are blowing, we can adjust our sails accordingly to keep heading toward our destination. The direction of the wind is irrelevant. Favorable winds may get us there faster, but we don't really need them, and unfavorable winds can't stop us; they can only slow us down. As Bishop Waddell said, "No amount of change, trial, or opposition can alter [our] eternal course—only our choices, as we exercise our agency." Life may not go the way we want it to go, but we get to choose what we make of it.

Traffic Laws and God's Laws

I wonder how much some things really matter. For example, while riding my bike home from school today, I ran several STOP signs in my neighborhood. Yet, on of our Articles of Faith states that "We believe in . . . obeying, honoring, and sustaining the law." I have a moral responsibility to obey the secular law, including all traffic laws, even when riding a bike. But does God really care about that? Does it bother Him when I run a STOP sign or ride my bike across a crosswalk instead of walking it? There are dozens of minor laws that many people break frequently, like jaywalking. Does God really care that we do that?

Maybe He does, as a matter of principle. It's not just that He wants us to obey the law; He wants us to respect it. Maybe He mostly just wants us to show that we can live under authority and obey non-evil rules, even when they don't seem to make a lot of sense. God's laws sometimes seem pointless and arbitrary, yet our salvation depends on keeping them. Perhaps He asks us to keep the laws of the land as well for the purpose of helping us not get too comfortable with the idea of breaking rules and doing whatever we want.

In light of this, maybe I should respect traffic rules more from now on, not because I think they're important, but because I think it's important to develop good habits and attitudes. I want to have a good attitude about God's laws. Maybe I should develop that by respecting traffic laws as well.

On Top of Things

This has been an interesting week. With Mom gone, the rest of us have had to do the things she regularly does, like cooking dinner, doing dishes, and cleaning the cat boxes (preferably in that order). It's been a lot of work and a little bit of a challenge, but it's also been fairly rewarding. Cleaning the cat boxes isn't much fun, but it isn't terrible, either. Doing dishes is somewhat therapeutic, and it's a nice feeling to have all the dishes clean at the end of the day. One of the biggest challenges has been cooking, since I normally don't cook much at all, but with my sister's guidance and recipes, my brother and I have been able to cook things that neither of us would have dreamed of trying on our own, and they've all been fairly successful. My brother and I have gained competence and confidence, and we've enjoyed the satisfaction of a job well done. Of course, we're still looking forward to Mom coming home. Even with our sister's help, we're not great cooks. But I'm happy to say that, for this week, between the three of us, we have managed to stay on top of things, and that satisfaction is a fantastic feeling.

Planting

Today, at Institute, we sung the hymn We Are Sowing, which is reminiscent of a parable in which seeds are tossed out onto various types of soil. The hymn reminds us that just about all of our actions have consequences, whether we intend them or not. It reminded me of the need to be mindful of our actions and to do things deliberately. Too often, we do things without really thinking, and while I'm not saying that we should never do that, as I'm not sure it's possible to stay conscious of all our choices and their possible effects all the time, I am saying that we should more frequently deliberately do things that are good. Rather than simply tossing out actions at random and hoping that some of them land somewhere productive, we can plant the seeds of our actions and actively cultivate them and nourish their growth. The nourished seeds are the ones that flourish. If we want goodness to grow, it would be best to cultivate it deliberately.

Grappling with Descartes' Demon

In the final paragraph of Rene Descartes' first Meditation, he introduces the idea of a demon who is "supremely powerful and clever, who has directed his entire effort at deceiving [him]," and it has occurred to me that, without a knowledge of the gospel, a person would be unable to prove that no such demon exists.

One would think that God would never allow such a demon to get away with that, but one could be deceived about both the existence of the demon and the existence of God. If such a demon were messing with our heads, how would we know it?

Epistemologically speaking, I don't have a good answer for this, but in the light of the gospel, I do. I have a strong enough testimony to know that God exists and that He is good enough to not let any demon so thoroughly deceive us.

Once again, a great challenge of philosophy is solved easily by religion. The rest of the world may be stuck with nagging doubts that they can't be sure that they aren't being deceived, but we know that we can trust our perceptions because we know that God wouldn't let any demon deceive us like that.

Nature Heals

I was feeling tired, frustrated at my lack of progress on my paper and in a few other areas of my life. I was grumpy and unhappy, and I still needed to blog. I tried to think of anything that happened today that I could blog about, and nothing really came to mind, so I went on Facebook, and nothing there did anything to improve my mood, except for this:

I don't know why this little blue bird made me feel so much better, but just looking at this image helped me feel at peace again. Of course, I still need to work on my paper and much of the house could still use cleaning. Scheduling is still an issue, and I have several personal challenges to work on as well. But this bird, somehow, makes me feel better about all of that. Maybe the beauty of nature is helping me realize how little some things really matter. Years from now, I'm not going to care how well I did on my Descartes paper. It's not ultimately going to matter how much cleaning got done. Yes, my personal challenges are still a priority, but I should keep my temporary challenges in perspective. My situation is not as bleak as it seemed an hour or two ago, and somehow, this simple picture of a little blue bird has helped me realize that.

Ethics and Politics

While I have a strong interest in ethics, I don't have much interest in politics. Unfortunately for me, the two subjects go hand in hand. Ethics is the study of what people ought to do, and politics is the foundation of public policy. Political forces create incentive systems which encourage people to behave ethically (or unethically). If we want to live in a more ethical world, a world in which goodness is rewarded and badness is punished, then politics is a strong tool to that end.

I had hoped to not become interested in politics. I don't want, or feel qualified, to tell others what to do. Plus, many of the people who care deeply about politics come off sounding somewhat crooked or unhinged. Yet, while politics is often used for one's personal gain, I think that it's a tool that I should learn to use as well, not for my own benefit (except in a karmic sort of way), but for the benefit of society. I have a vague idea of how the world ought to be. I have a sense of justice and a sense of right and wrong. I should use that to help me support laws that are just and right and to oppose laws that are unjust and wrong. I don't want to get into politics, but I feel an ethical responsibility to encourage others to be good, or at least to remove some of the incentives that encourage people to do evil.

I believe that I have a moral responsibility to get political. I still don't want to, but I think it's the right thing to do.

Lesson Plan: Sacrifice, Activities

Last time I gave a lesson in Primary, I ran out of material before I ran out of time. While I don't think that;s likely to happen this time, it would be foolish of me not to plan some kind of activity the class can do if we have extra time. In my previous class, the Go To activity was hangman. One child selected a word or phrase from the lesson, and the other children had to guess letters until they could guess the whole word or phrase. This time, I think I'll do something similar, but instead of letting a child choose the word or phrase (which can lead to trouble if the child accidentally marks down the wrong number of letters), I think I might choose several words that apply to the lesson, like Temptation, The Fall of Adam and Eve, The Atonement, Sacrifice, and Repentance, and I'll use those words for the hangman game. That way, we can have several shorter rounds rather than a few longer rounds.

I also, with my family's help, thought of another "activity" that might help the lesson sink in. At the beginning of the lesson, I'll give each child an Oreo and a promise. The promise will be that if they haven't eaten their Oreo by the end of the lesson, I'll give them a second Oreo. This will give the children a hands-on lesson on temptation, the blessings of resisting it, and (possibly) the consequences of giving in to temptation. I was almost willing to consider that the "activity," but it's not very fun, and it won't help kill time at the end of the lesson. Hangman should do the trick though.

When giving any lesson or delivering any message, it's important to consider both your audience and how much time or space you'll have to work with. A 45-minute lesson for eight and nine year olds is going to be very different from a 15-minute presentation to adults or a 5-page research paper for a college-level class. Tomorrow, I'll need to teach at my students' level, and I'll have to use all the time I'm given. I'll start, of course, by getting the kids' attention and teaching the lesson, but I'll finish with a time-flexible activity that will help the children remember at least the key terms.

Taking It On Faith

The more I study Philosophy, the more glad I am for religion. Philosophers ask deep, important questions, but they rely on themselves to come up with the answers, so various philosophers produce conflicting answers. I believe in objective truths and objective moral values, but I don't have to rely on myself or any other human to tell me what many of them they are. God already did. And the answers God hasn't given us yet are either within our grasp or not terribly important. Of course, I'm not giving up on learning or thinking just because God already gave us all the answers we really need. I'll keep trying to figure Philosophy out. It's just not as urgent for me as it is for some people. Some philosophers seem to think that it's up to us to find all of the answers to life's important questions, that it's up to us to discover the truth, using only our own reasoning and logic. For the record, I have nothing against reasoning and logic. I think they're important! But we have other ways of learning the truth, and while I think that we human beings can and should learn God's Truth and the logic behind it for ourselves, until we manage that, I'm happy with taking it on faith.

Temporary Separation

In light of a recent event, I am prompted to feel a deep sense of gratitude for the fact that families can be together forever, that this earthly life isn't all there is, and that any separation between worthy, sealed family members can only be temporary. When deaths occur, people say that "life is short," and, thankfully, so is the pain that comes from the loss of life. This may not bring much comfort to those who have lost loved ones, but I hope that it brings them at least some comfort, and I think that it will bring some comfort to me when it becomes my time to mourn.

Four Benefits of Ethics

For all that Spinoza and the other modern philosophers got wrong, he got a few things wonderfully right. Near the end of Part 2 of his classic work, Ethics (which had unfortunately little discussion of ethics in the sections we covered in class, by the way), Spinoza lists four ways in which people can benefit from studying his philosophy.

The first of these ways includes knowing that we are part of God (in some weird, metaphysical way), which means, in part, that "we share in the divine nature." He also wrote that "virtue itself . . . is happiness itself," which I think is just beautiful.

The second way we can benefit from Spinoza's deterministic view of the universe is that it teaches us "to expect and endure with patience both faces of fortune [good fortune and bad fortune]." This sounds incredibly "zen" to me, and might be the source of the "complete tranquillity of mind" that he mentions within the first way his philosophy can help us.

The third way is that it teaches us to be patient with others, remembering that their actions are also determined, as all events are, and that they, too, are a part of God.

And the fourth way we can benefit from Spinoza's philosophy is by using it to build a stable and virtuous society.

I don't agree with everything Spinoza wrote, and I don't think that all of these benefits he says follow from his philosophy actually do that. Yet, as I read the benefits he claims his philosophy unlocks, I found that he gets pretty close to speaking of eternal truths and blessings of eternal and temporal value. Again, I don't think all of these blessings can come from following Spinoza, but I do think that all of these blessings, and many more, can come from following God.

Lesson Plan: Sacrifices

I'm teaching the lesson in Primary this week, and the topic is pretty simple. I'm teaching Lesson 5: Adam and Eve and Their Family Offered Sacrifices, which wouldn't normally seem important enough to teach a whole lesson about, but why I considered WHY Adam, Eve, and their family offered sacrifices, the lesson plan began to write itself.

As usual, we'll start with a review, teaching about how the Fall of Adam and Eve caused a lot of changes in the way the world worked, with the most important change being the introduction of sin. Because sin was a part of the world now (and because this kinda had been the plan all along), it was necessary for Jesus Christ to sacrifice Himself to accomplish the Atonement so we could be redeemed from our sins. Adam and his family was commanded to offer sacrifices to remind them of the coming sacrifice of Jesus Christ on their (and our) behalf.

Today, we  have a different way to remind us of Christ's sacrifice, and we make different sorts of sacrifices ourselves, but the core concepts remain largely the same. We all need the Atonement, so we all need ways to remind ourselves of the Atonement. In fact, this lesson is going to be mostly about the Atonement, why it was necessary, and how we remember it. After all, the Atonement is the most important part of the gospel and was the greatest sacrifice ever made. The "story" part of the lesson may be about the Fall and Adam making sacrifices, but what I really want my kids to take away from this class is the importance of the Atonement and the importance of remembering it.

Philosophy is Hard

Philosophy is hard in at least two ways: First, its concepts are often difficult to understand, and Second, its principles are often difficult to apply. My last blog post is evidence of this. I am currently wrestling with several difficult philosophical concepts, and I am confident that, even when I understand them, I may find them difficult to apply. It's hard to be a good person, especially when you first have to try and figure out what being a good person means.

The Personal Freedom Paradox

I've found an unfortunate paradox within one of my core beliefs. I believe in personal freedom, and I believe that each person should respect the freedom of others, but I worry that that belief may contain a contradiction. If I respect others' freedom, for example, doesn't that mean that I should respect others' freedom to disrespect the freedom of others? Perhaps I should amend my stance, as soon as I find a better way to describe my beliefs, but others aren't going to wait for me to complete my introspection.

I think that most of us can agree that oppression is wrong, but I worry that some of the measures that some individuals take in their attempts to reduce or eliminate oppression are, themselves, oppressive. Anti-discrimination laws can become discriminatory. In general, I believe in letting people live as they choose to live, but if some people choose to try to control others, shouldn't I try to stop them? But if I did, wouldn't that be me trying to control them?

We could soften the discussion with terms like "influence" or "convince." I could try to "convince" others to not try to "influence" others, but that doesn't really solve the underlying paradox. What right do I have to tell others that they have no right to tell others how to live? Maybe I don't have any such right. Maybe, to be true to the cause of freedom, I have to let others exercise their freedom to oppress.

That can't be my answer. There has to be a way to support freedom without allowing for the rise of oppressors. We could make exceptions to our blanket support of freedom. After all, one's freedom can only reach so far. But where would we draw the line? And remember, whatever standard we want to hold others to, we must maintain ourselves. That is actually the root of the problem. I can't claim to respect the freedom of others if I don't respect others' freedom to do otherwise.

This is a conundrum that I'm not going to solve overnight. Maybe I should pose this problem to some of my philosophical friends and get their two cents on this.

One Little Slip

Watching the Olympics this evening, it astonished me how much one little slip could cost you. In many of these competitions, the standard is absolute perfection, and falling even slightly short of that could ruin your chance of going home with a medal.

This reminds me of the gospel's high standards, and of the tragic cost of falling short of those standards. We, too, are aiming for perfection, and while we don't have to hit that goal just yet, our mortal standards are still dauntingly high.

Thankfully, one little slip doesn't have to cost us much. When we make a mistake, we can repent of it, no matter how big or small the mistake. So, while no unclean thing can dwell in the presence of God, our little mistakes don't have to stop us from reaching our goal. Sin can only hold us back from perfection if we don't repent of it. Without repentance, one little slip could cost us everything, but with repentance, no amount of failure can stop us.

Miracles That Might Not Be Miracles

Speaking of miracles, I would like to blog about what happened in my least session of D&D. The session started with our group in a bit of a pickle. One of our characters, a ranger called Kettle, had gotten himself locked up for breaking one of the more serious rules on the pirate ship our characters had been forced to work on. It seemed likely that he was to be keelhauled (killed brutally) within the next few days. We didn't have that kind of time.

Our escape plan involved helping the pirates take over a merchant ship, then take the merchant ship from the pirates. The only hard part was going to be making sure our entire crew got onto the new ship, especially when one of our party members were locked up at the time the merchant ship came into view. We had only a few hours to get him free without anyone finding out about it, a practically impossible task, and we had no plan. Naturally, we failed to come up with any way to get Kettle released in time. Thankfully, Captain Harrigan decided to release Kettle so he could help in the fight against the merchants. And during the fight, Kettle had an opportunity to protect Captain Harrigan from a sneak attack, so, by the time the fight was over, the Captain seemed to have completely forgotten that he was supposed to punish Kettle for something.

And the pirate captain's life-saving change of heart wasn't the only miracle our characters saw that day. At one point in the fight, a great explosion rocked the ship, threatening to throw us off our feet, but all our characters made their Dexterity Saves and remained standing while almost all of the merchants we were fighting lost their balance and fell prone, putting them at a great disadvantage. It was improbable that all of us would succeed that balance check and almost all of our opponents would fail, so my character considered that something of a miracle as well. But the greatest "miracle" of the battle was something only my character saw.

As he was fighting on the main deck in the middle of a magically conjured fog, he occasionally saw a tentacle reach out, grab one of the merchants he was fighting, and throw him overboard. My character was sure the man-tossing octopus would try to grab him as well, but it never did. It only grabbed and tossed those he was fighting. What my character didn't know at the time, and still doesn't know at this point in the story, was that this octopus was summoned by another player whose character has been hiding his magical powers and items this whole time. My character assumed, and still thinks, that the octopus was sent by a god. My character now intends to find out which god has been helping them so he can give him or her or it his thanks.

But no god, fictional or otherwise, had a hand in any of that. The release of Kettle was basically just a way for the DM to get the group back together before the battle started. The explosion was a scripted combat event in which all of our characters simply got lucky. And the octopus, as already mentioned, was summoned by a player, not a god. Still, that's not going to stop my character from considering these three situations as evidence of divine favor and acting accordingly.

Life is full of events that can be thought of as convenient coincidences or mere good fortune, and perhaps some, or even many, of them are. But it couldn't hurt to occasionally give credit where it isn't necessarily due. If you experience good fortune, thank God for the miracle. If you succeed at something through your own good planning and hard work, thank God for the miracle. It may not actually have been a miracle, and there may, in fact, be no real reason to thank God, but I figure that it couldn't hurt to thank Him anyway. He may decide that, since you're so thankful for the "miracles" you receive, He should offer you a few real miracles to be thankful for. In any case, thanking God for the miracles that might not be miracles will at least help you draw closer to God, and that's an end unto itself. So, thank God for the miracles in your life, even the ones that aren't really miracles at all.

Convenient Coincidences

Elder Donald L. Hallstrom started his talk, Has the Day of Miracles Ceased?, with a story of a series of miracles. A man named Clark fell off a cliff, falling 40 feet and then tumbling uncontrollably for another 300. Luckily, he survived, and his luck didn't end there. There just "happened" to be a group of mountain rescue guides and emergency medical professionals hiking nearby, and they just "happened" to new communication device that could work in areas where one couldn't get a cell signal. Thanks to their timely help, Clark held onto life long enough to be rushed to a trauma center. There, he was treated by a renowned neurotrauma surgeon who just "happened" to be on duty that day, despite only being at that hospital a few days a year. Despite Clark's many serious injuries, the surgeon was able to save him, and he was even expected to make a full recovery. The surgeon, a self-described agnostic, said that Clark's case could only be described as a miracle.

Others might disagree. After all, it's possible that these miracles could have been a series of convenient coincidences. There's no way to prove that God had a hand in it all.Yes, it's improbable for things to have worked out so well for Clark after his fall, but it's not impossible. It could have been that Clark just got very, very lucky.

I think there's a reason for that. I think that part of the reason God rarely does things that are truly impossible is so there will always be some room for faith or doubt. In order to see this experience as a miracle, one has to believe in the possibility of miracles at least as much as they believe in the possibility of convenient coincidences. God requires our faith, and He rarely, if ever, offers solid proof of His existence and power in return. Even those who believe in God could hear this story and admit that it's possible that Clark just got very, very lucky.

Naturally, that's not the way Clark and his family saw it. They knew in their hearts that they had experienced a miracle, and that's what they told Elder Hallstrom when he had come to visit them. They had the faith to see their experience as a series of miracles rather than as a series of convenient coincidences.

Still All My Song Shall Be

Today, at Institute, I was invited to share my insights on the hymn Nearer, My God, to Thee. I thought I'd share them here, too.

To me, this hymn is all about drawing unto the Savior, regardless of your circumstances. In the first first, we sing, "E'en though it be a cross that raiseth me, still all my song shall be nearer, my God, to Thee." The cross here is taken figuratively, representing any sort of trial or hardship. As the hymn implies, our trials can "raise" us toward God by helping us develop Christlike attributes, such as patience and empathy. Thus, when we struggle with problems, we can use those struggles to draw closer to God, and, if we consider the eternal value of the growth we're experiencing, we can even sometimes bring ourselves to thank God for it.

But, thankfully, we don't always struggle. Sometimes, life is relatively easy for us, and this rare condition is represented in the last verse:

Or if, on joyful wing

Cleaving the sky,

Sun, moon, and stars forgot,

Upward I fly,

Still all my song shall be

Nearer, my God, to thee,

Nearer, my God, to thee,

Nearer to thee!

I love the repeated lines, "Still all my song shall be nearer, my God, to Thee." It's a good reminder that, no matter how well life is going for us, we still need to remember God and strive to draw closer to Him spiritually, if not physically.

Whether we're cleaving the sky on joyful wing or suffering under the weight of the cross, either experience can bring us closer to God, if we remember to focus on God during the experience. Anything we experience in life, good or bad, can work out to our eternal good, and they are all part of God's plan, so we should strive to follow God's plan by making the most of every experience, whether that means letting our adversity make us more Christlike or staying Christlike even when we're blessed. Countless individuals and some entire civilizations have fallen because they failed to turn to God when times were too bad to have faith in God or too good to think they still needed Him. Let's not make that same mistake. Instead, let us continue to draw nearer to God, no matter whether we're being raised by a cross of suffering or wings of ease.

How to Have Joy Despite Discouragement

President Jean B. Bingham gave a General Conference talk titled That Your Joy Might Be Full. In the talk, President Bingham spoke of the challenges of life and reminded us that, despite these trials, the purpose of life is to have joy. We can succeed in this by focussing on things that bring us joy, like our loved ones, hymns, and the satisfaction of doing good work. This won't make the challenges of life go away, but it will help strengthen our resolve and morale to do the right things, despite the difficulties we face in life. God knew that we would face challenges and discouragement in life, which is part of the reason He included many good things in life as well, to help us keep our chins up and keep moving forward toward our eternal goals. We don't have to let life get us down. If you ever feel overwhelmed or discouraged, try thinking of something that brings you joy. You may find that it lifts your spirits and helps you rise to the challenges of life.

Is Failure the Best Teacher?

I watched STAR WARS: The Last Jedi recently,  and in that movie, one of the characters essentially says that failure is the best teacher. I don't know whether or not I agree with that. I know that there are some things that we could only learn through an earthly experience, and that an earthly experience always involves failure (except in Jesus' case), but I don't think that God would set up a system in which experiencing failure is the best way to learn.

Then again, why not? If we're going to fail anyway, we might as well get some good out of it. Every failure is an opportunity to learn from our mistakes. If God knew that we would make so many mistakes, and if He has the power to influence this sort of thing, then He might have ensured that each mistake we would make could also serve as a learning experience, thus making failure one of the best teachers, if not THE best teacher.

But I still don't think God wants us to fail. I'm sure that He would strongly rather that we successfully resist temptation and not have to suffer any moral failures at all. Naturally, we would still have physical and mortal failings from which we could learn, but I think that God would rather that we learn moral lessons the easy way rather than the hard way.

However, if we're already learning lessons the hard way, maybe God would soften the blow by making it easier to learn from our mistakes. Yes, it would be better to learn moral lessons before we fail our moral tests, and God would, theoretically, make the right way to learn also the best, but it's those who are struggling with a concept who need the most help in learning it.

It might be true that failure is the best teacher, or it might not be true. But whether failure is the "best" teacher or not, we can still learn from it, and we all make mistakes frequently enough that there's a lot we can learn from them. So, when we make mistakes and experience failure, we should try to learn something from that failure, especially if we can learn not to make those kinds of mistakes. But this doesn't mean that we should go out, trying to make mistakes that we can learn from, not by a long shop. Failure may or may not be the best teacher, but deliberately making mistakes in order to learn from them definitely isn't the best way too learn.

The Savior's Sunk Cost

I just saw a Facebook photo depicting Christ wearing a crown of thorns, with the caption "Considering the cost He's already paid, He's not giving up on you now!" Ironically, what got me excited about this post wasn't the exclamation point or the encouraging message the post was trying to convey, but rather the use of a pair of different, yet identical contractions in the same sentence and the unique question this encouraging post inspires: Isn't this an example of the sunk cost fallacy?

For those of you unfamiliar with the term, the sunk cost fallacy is when a person puts more time, money, and/or effort into a failing investment specifically because he or she has already invested heavily into it. For example, if I'm writing a research paper and I do all the research, outlining, and most of the drafting, only to realize that the topic I've chosen to cover doesn't even match the prompt, I might be tempted to keep writing that paper on that topic, just because I've already done so much work on it.

Relating this to the Savior, it's not hard to tell how much work Jesus has invested into saving our souls. He has walked and taught for countless hours to give us the good news of the gospel. He has suffered revilings and resisted fierce temptation to set a good example for us. He has literally dedicated His life to giving us the chance to gain eternal life. In fact, He even gave His life for that cause. Jesus Christ suffered unimaginable pain and then allowed Himself to be tortured to death, just to give us a chance at salvation.

Jesus has paid a terribly high price to make salvation possible, and He's not going to get a refund if we don't accept His generous offer. The price has been paid. Period. So, it stands to reason that, in order to make sure His sacrifice doesn't go to waste, Christ is willing to continue to work hard to persuade us to accept the sacrifice. Of course Jesus Christ wants to save our souls; He wants to make sure that He didn't make that sacrifice in vain.

Except that I don't think He really cares about that. I think that what He really cares about is us.

Jesus Christ is a wise person. He's probably wise enough to know that sinking more time and effort into a failing endeavor is just making a bigger blunder. I don't think Jesus would fall for the sunk cost fallacy. But I do think that He would bend over backward to save us, not because He has already paid such a high price to save our souls, but because He thinks that saving our souls is worth the price. Yes, Christ has already paid a inestimably high price to save us, and most of us might think that it's worth investing just a little bit more in hopes of getting some return on our investment, but I think that the real reason Christ was willing to pay such a high price for our sakes, and to continue to make sacrifices on our behalf, is because He thinks that our salvation is worth every sacrifice He has made thus far, and more.

It's not a foolish attempt to get some value out of the price He paid; it's love, and it's a selfless willingness to pay almost any price for the welfare of our souls.

An Unexpected Adventure

Tonight, I received a reminder that life doesn't always go as planned and that it pays to be flexible and have a positive, patient attitude when things take an unexpected turn. Sitting on the floor in a Nordstrom Rack store, blogging from my phone, isn't how I planned to spend my evening, but that's okay. If you can't do what you planned or wanted to do, you can almost always find something else to do instead, and, with the right attitude, you might actually end up enjoying the change of plans. So, when things don't work out the way you thought they would, don't lose heart. The detour or roadblock might lead you to an unexpected but still enjoyable adventure.

The Philosophers' Concept of God

My Philosophy class continues to remind me why I'm glad I'm a Mormon. Modern philosophers like Rene Descartes and Baruch Spinoza wrestle with a concept of God that is practically incomprehensible, yet the truth about God isn't difficult to grasp. God isn't some formless, omnipresent being that exists outside of space and time. He is a man who has done more learning and growing than a man could do in a thousand lifetimes. I don't think He's omnipotent; I think His power is still growing. Though, compared to us, He might as well be omnipotent. The same thing goes for omniscience. He doesn't know everything because there will always be more new things to learn, though He certainly knows a lot more than any of us do. I'll grant that He is eternal, in that He will never truly die, but the same can also be said for us. The God I worship is just like anybody else, just a lot farther along than any of us are. Also, I'm glad I'm not a philosopher with a drive to prove everything with logic alone. I'm glad that I have a concept of God that I can wrap my head around, and I'm glad that I'm satisfied to take God's existence on faith.

Flying Over Mud

A few days ago, I heard part of an analogy in a BYU Devotional. It was something about people being like pigs wallowing in a mire when they should be more like soaring eagles instead. As I discussed this analogy with the others at Institute, I remarked that no one is really a pig. We are all born as eagles. It's just our behavior that sometimes makes us comparable to pigs.

Earth is a muddy place. There are a lot of aspects of the earth that we should avoid touching, if we want to keep ourselves clean. And keeping ourselves clean is essential if we want to fly. I can't imagine any bird flying well with their wings coated with mud. Eagles are some of the greatest flyers out there, but even they would have trouble flying if their wings were too dirty.

We are Celestial creatures with infinite potential. The trouble is that we live in a Telestial world, and it's easy, and even tempting, to visit some of the lower regions of this fallen world. However, it's imperative that we resist such temptations. We need to keep ourselves spiritually clean if we are to reach our eternal potential, and that doesn't give us much room to wallow in the mud.

This world is riddled with mud holes, and some of them seem surprisingly appealing. But as fun as playing in the mud is, flying is even better. Given the choice between the two activities, I'd take flying over mud any day. And we can't fly if our wings are dirty, so we should try to keep them clean. I know that it's tempting to spend some time in the mud holes, but that's not what we're meant to do. Eagles aren't built for wallowing in mud holes. God intends us to soar over them.