Elder Jeffrey R. Holland started his talk "Behold the Lamb of God" by summarizing the story from which that quote was taken. John the Baptist, just before baptizing the Savior, identified him as "the Lamb of God." Elder Holland then went on to explain why that title works so well for Jesus, emphasizing His role as the sacrificial Lamb of God. But there is another reason Christ can be called The Lamb of God, and it's connected to why we can also call Him The Good Shepherd.
Jesus Christ was a perfect follower of His Heavenly Father, which is exactly why we are wisely counseled to follow Him. A good shepherd leads and defends his sheep, and wise sheep follow their shepherd. This analogy gets muddied a bit when we consider the sacrifice of the lamb, but that muddiness is cleared up with an eternal perspective. Jesus Christ sacrificed Himself to pay the price for our sins and to break the bands of death, but that wasn't the end for Him. He was resurrected and now resides in the Celestial Kingdom with His Heavenly Father. Similarly, Christ asks us to sacrifice parts of ourselves (namely, our sins), but we know that doing so will work out well for us in the end. We know that we should follow Christ because we know which path He followed and where it ultimately lead Him. If we want to reach the same destination, our surest path is to follow His.
I've heard it said that good leaders are also good followers. Christ is both. He is the Good Shepherd whom we should follow, and He is the Lamb of God who perfectly followed His Father's commandments. His discipleship provides us with a perfect model for our own. Jesus Christ was a perfect follower of our Heavenly Father, and we, too, can become perfect only by faithfully following Him.
Friday, May 31, 2019
Thursday, May 30, 2019
Family Trumps Magic
I generally like magic. It's fun, it lets writers play with the laws of physics in flashy and/or interesting ways, and it can create a unique set of problems and solutions that wouldn't work otherwise. Magic certainly has its place in works of fiction. However, I have found one work of fiction that I really enjoyed, right up until it introduced an element of magic.
A Plague Tale: Innocence is a video game that starts as a work of historical fiction. This isn't normally my favorite genre, but the premise of the story is what got my attention. The player character is a teenage girl named Amicia whose chronically ill kid brother is, for an unknown reason, being hunted by the French Inquisition during a plague which is being carried by swarms of man-eating rats. The gameplay mostly sees Amicia and her brother, Hugo, sneak around guards and rats while trying to get to safety and gather the resources they need to survive.
It's a great story, as Amicia is initially frustrated with Hugo's uselessness, but she gradually grows to genuinely care about him, to the point where she'd risk her life to save his and to help find a cure for his illness. However, that's where we get introduced to the magical elements of the story, and it's where the story itself starts to turn South.
As Amicia seeks to understand and cure her brother's illness, she learns that it has to do with something in his blood that gives him the magical ability to control the rats. The Inquisition wants to kidnap Hugo so their leader can use a series of blood transfusions to gain Hugo's rat-controlling powers and take over the world, or at least the local area. They partially succeed, and the High Inquisitor gets rat-controlling powers. The day is saved when Hugo and Amicia bring their own army of rats to fight the High Inquisitor and his army of rats in a video-gamey boss battle that, in my opinion, doesn't fit in with the rest of the game mechanically or tonally.
For most of the game, the mechanics are all about stealth and gathering resources and using those resources to craft tools that make the stealth easier as the children face more complex and difficult stealth challenges over the course of the game. The final fight throws out any pretense of stealth and resource management by having the kids have a direct showdown with the game's villain, armed with a functionally-infinite army of rats. Stealth is not an option in this scenario, and there's no longer any need to conserve resources.
But even worse than not matching the mechanical tone of the game, the final boss fight doesn't match the narrative tone of the story, either. The narrative climax of the story is when Amicia learns that her and Hugo's mother is still alive, when they thought she had been killed by the Inquisition. Instead, the Inquisition had captured the kids' mother and was torturing her for information. Amicia decides not to tell Hugo that their mother is still alive, since they have no way to save her, and knowing that she's alive and in terrible pain would only make Hugo upset. However, Hugo overhears Amicia talking about this, and he decides to run away to find his mother on his own. That's how the Inquisition gets Hugo's blood, and it's how Hugo learns that his illness gives him the ability to control rats.
Yet, there isn't much emotional payoff for any of this drama. Hugo does eventually find his mother, but they're both so physically drained from their illness or imprisonment that it isn't any emotional moment. Hugo also doesn't have much of an emotional moment when he escapes the Inquisition and rejoins Amicia. The fact that she lied to him about his mother's survival and torture to spare his fragile emotions has almost no effect on their relationship.
Instead, they use Hugo's new rat-controlling powers and Amicia's now practically obsolete skill with a sling to fight the High Inquisitor and save their mother and the world. By the end, the video game seemed more like a cliche young adult novel than a story with high physical and emotional stakes and gripping interpersonal drama. The introduction of magic into this story took away the magic it already had. The game already had an engaging story with complex characters. It didn't need unbelievable rat-controlling superpowers to make the game interesting. It already was.
So, I guess this blog post has been more about poor writing than any spiritual lessons, but I kind of just wanted to write about this, and besides, there actually is a pretty good spiritual lesson in here: Family trumps magic. Magic is fun, and it can be interesting, but family is far more important and more emotionally compelling. Gaining Celestial powers will be awesome, but being able to maintain and create eternal families will be even better. There's plenty of room for magic in fiction, at least when said magic fits within the fictional worlds and stories, but family is far more important, in both fiction and reality.
A Plague Tale: Innocence is a video game that starts as a work of historical fiction. This isn't normally my favorite genre, but the premise of the story is what got my attention. The player character is a teenage girl named Amicia whose chronically ill kid brother is, for an unknown reason, being hunted by the French Inquisition during a plague which is being carried by swarms of man-eating rats. The gameplay mostly sees Amicia and her brother, Hugo, sneak around guards and rats while trying to get to safety and gather the resources they need to survive.
It's a great story, as Amicia is initially frustrated with Hugo's uselessness, but she gradually grows to genuinely care about him, to the point where she'd risk her life to save his and to help find a cure for his illness. However, that's where we get introduced to the magical elements of the story, and it's where the story itself starts to turn South.
As Amicia seeks to understand and cure her brother's illness, she learns that it has to do with something in his blood that gives him the magical ability to control the rats. The Inquisition wants to kidnap Hugo so their leader can use a series of blood transfusions to gain Hugo's rat-controlling powers and take over the world, or at least the local area. They partially succeed, and the High Inquisitor gets rat-controlling powers. The day is saved when Hugo and Amicia bring their own army of rats to fight the High Inquisitor and his army of rats in a video-gamey boss battle that, in my opinion, doesn't fit in with the rest of the game mechanically or tonally.
For most of the game, the mechanics are all about stealth and gathering resources and using those resources to craft tools that make the stealth easier as the children face more complex and difficult stealth challenges over the course of the game. The final fight throws out any pretense of stealth and resource management by having the kids have a direct showdown with the game's villain, armed with a functionally-infinite army of rats. Stealth is not an option in this scenario, and there's no longer any need to conserve resources.
But even worse than not matching the mechanical tone of the game, the final boss fight doesn't match the narrative tone of the story, either. The narrative climax of the story is when Amicia learns that her and Hugo's mother is still alive, when they thought she had been killed by the Inquisition. Instead, the Inquisition had captured the kids' mother and was torturing her for information. Amicia decides not to tell Hugo that their mother is still alive, since they have no way to save her, and knowing that she's alive and in terrible pain would only make Hugo upset. However, Hugo overhears Amicia talking about this, and he decides to run away to find his mother on his own. That's how the Inquisition gets Hugo's blood, and it's how Hugo learns that his illness gives him the ability to control rats.
Yet, there isn't much emotional payoff for any of this drama. Hugo does eventually find his mother, but they're both so physically drained from their illness or imprisonment that it isn't any emotional moment. Hugo also doesn't have much of an emotional moment when he escapes the Inquisition and rejoins Amicia. The fact that she lied to him about his mother's survival and torture to spare his fragile emotions has almost no effect on their relationship.
Instead, they use Hugo's new rat-controlling powers and Amicia's now practically obsolete skill with a sling to fight the High Inquisitor and save their mother and the world. By the end, the video game seemed more like a cliche young adult novel than a story with high physical and emotional stakes and gripping interpersonal drama. The introduction of magic into this story took away the magic it already had. The game already had an engaging story with complex characters. It didn't need unbelievable rat-controlling superpowers to make the game interesting. It already was.
So, I guess this blog post has been more about poor writing than any spiritual lessons, but I kind of just wanted to write about this, and besides, there actually is a pretty good spiritual lesson in here: Family trumps magic. Magic is fun, and it can be interesting, but family is far more important and more emotionally compelling. Gaining Celestial powers will be awesome, but being able to maintain and create eternal families will be even better. There's plenty of room for magic in fiction, at least when said magic fits within the fictional worlds and stories, but family is far more important, in both fiction and reality.
Wednesday, May 29, 2019
Romantic Music and Repentance
It's surprising how often love songs, songs about romantic love, can serve as halfway decent analogies for God's love.
I decided to listen to the radio as I washed a few dishes this evening, and the first music I heard was the chorus of Maroon 5's song "Just Wait":
The funny thing is, I can definitely imagine God saying those things to me. Though He'd probably use different words, He'd certainly try to convey the same message. God wants all of us to "turn around" through repentance so we can "work out [our] salvation" (Philippians 2:12) and come back to Heaven, where God lives, so we can be with Him. It's almost perfect.
Of course, the song isn't a truly perfect analogy. In the song, the singer is trying to convince the person he's singing to to let him apologize; however, it's not God who needs to apologize, but us. Perhaps we can allow the POV of the song to shift from God to us, but it's easier to accept that the song isn't a perfect analogy. No analogy is.
Still, as I listened to this song a little while ago, it felt seemed like it almost could have been a message from God. It's not word-for-word what He would have said, and the actual verses are nowhere near what God would say, but the chorus seemed like the kind of thing God would want to say to me, which is probably why He did. God can speak to us through music, and not all of that music has to be hymns. God can speak to us in any number of ways, including, occasionally, through love songs.
I decided to listen to the radio as I washed a few dishes this evening, and the first music I heard was the chorus of Maroon 5's song "Just Wait":
Wait, can you turn around, can you turn around?
Just wait, can we work this out, can we work this out?
Just wait, can you come here please? 'Cause I wanna be with you.
Just wait, can we work this out, can we work this out?
Just wait, can you come here please? 'Cause I wanna be with you.
The funny thing is, I can definitely imagine God saying those things to me. Though He'd probably use different words, He'd certainly try to convey the same message. God wants all of us to "turn around" through repentance so we can "work out [our] salvation" (Philippians 2:12) and come back to Heaven, where God lives, so we can be with Him. It's almost perfect.
Of course, the song isn't a truly perfect analogy. In the song, the singer is trying to convince the person he's singing to to let him apologize; however, it's not God who needs to apologize, but us. Perhaps we can allow the POV of the song to shift from God to us, but it's easier to accept that the song isn't a perfect analogy. No analogy is.
Still, as I listened to this song a little while ago, it felt seemed like it almost could have been a message from God. It's not word-for-word what He would have said, and the actual verses are nowhere near what God would say, but the chorus seemed like the kind of thing God would want to say to me, which is probably why He did. God can speak to us through music, and not all of that music has to be hymns. God can speak to us in any number of ways, including, occasionally, through love songs.
Tuesday, May 28, 2019
Apparently, I'm a Saint.
Apparently, I'm a saint.
One doesn't need to be perfect just yet. As long as I don't give up on trying to make progress, I'll get there. In the meantime, I'm just trying to do as much good as God expects of me. That's about all I can do. Eventually, I'll get better at everything that matters. In the meantime, I'll try not to get too frustrated with how imperfect I am. Nobody's perfect, but those who try, and keep trying, are saints.
One doesn't need to be perfect just yet. As long as I don't give up on trying to make progress, I'll get there. In the meantime, I'm just trying to do as much good as God expects of me. That's about all I can do. Eventually, I'll get better at everything that matters. In the meantime, I'll try not to get too frustrated with how imperfect I am. Nobody's perfect, but those who try, and keep trying, are saints.
Monday, May 27, 2019
Marvelous Blessings
All this morning, I've been marveling about the wonders of technology. Our devices can give us direction, communication, information, comfort, transportation, and so much more. I wouldn't be the first to use technology as an analogy for the Spirit and the blessings we get through the Spirit. However, while technology is (or can be) a great blessing in our lives, it is not, itself, divine.
Technology is great, but not as good as God is. Whatever directions we get from our GPSs, God's guidance is better. It's great that we can communicate with each other, but it's even better that we can communicate with God. The vast stores of knowledge on the Internet don't hold a candle to the omniscience of God. Homes and AC units provide great comfort, but the Spirit is the true Comforter. And while our cars and planes can get us just about anywhere on earth, living the Gospel is what's going to get us to heaven.
So, yes, technology is wonderful, but the blessings of God that are even better.
Technology is great, but not as good as God is. Whatever directions we get from our GPSs, God's guidance is better. It's great that we can communicate with each other, but it's even better that we can communicate with God. The vast stores of knowledge on the Internet don't hold a candle to the omniscience of God. Homes and AC units provide great comfort, but the Spirit is the true Comforter. And while our cars and planes can get us just about anywhere on earth, living the Gospel is what's going to get us to heaven.
So, yes, technology is wonderful, but the blessings of God that are even better.
Sunday, May 26, 2019
Competing Voices
Near the beginning of Elder David P. Homer's talk, he shared an example that, given its subject matter, could just as well have come from President Uchtdorf:
Yet, through careful observation and some trial and error, we can come to recognize the voice of the Spirit and discern it from others, even in the midst of other, competing voices. The voice of the Spirit is often quiet, and can easily be drowned out, even by our own thoughts, but if we learn to recognize His voice, we can then learn to listen carefully enough to pick it out of a crowd.
However, there's one more catch. Even if we can hear and recognize the voice of the Spirit, that won't do us any good unless we also trust it, despite the fact that our own voice sometimes seems more logical and the adversary's suggestions often seem more tempting. We have to learn to trust that God and His Spirit want what's best for us, and if we listen to them, things will work out better for us than if we had followed our own advice or anyone else's.
So, the voice of the Spirit has to compete to be heard, recognized, and trusted, but if we manage to hear, recognize, and trust the voice of the Spirit, His promptings can save our lives, both physical and spiritual. The Spirit frequently offers people life-saving warnings and life-improving advice. The problem is that His voice is too often too quiet, so we must make special efforts to make sure that, out of all the competing voices, His is the one we listen to and follow. As with the situation with the pilots and the warning alarm, listening to the right voice is absolutely vital.
Many years ago, I traveled on a small plane with a newly certified pilot at the controls. At the end of our flight, we were cleared to land. But as we neared the ground, I heard an alarm in the cockpit warn the pilot to “pull up.” The pilot looked to the more experienced copilot, who pointed in a downward direction, away from the runway, and said, “Now!”
I can personally confirm the first of these two lessons. It seems that, almost every time I have to make a decision, multiple thoughts spring to my mind, telling me which choice I should make and why. These voices often come in conflict with one another, and it can be difficult to tell which thoughts are from my own head and which thoughts are inspired by the Spirit or by the adversary. Determining which voice is the right one can be nigh impossible.Our plane rapidly moved to the left and down, then climbed back to an appropriate altitude, reentered the landing pattern, and arrived safely at our destination. We later learned that another aircraft had been cleared for takeoff. Had we followed the instructions of the alarm, we would have veered into, rather than away from, the oncoming plane. This experience taught me two important lessons: First, at critical moments in our lives, we will hear multiple voices competing for our attention. And second, it is vital that we listen to the right ones.
Yet, through careful observation and some trial and error, we can come to recognize the voice of the Spirit and discern it from others, even in the midst of other, competing voices. The voice of the Spirit is often quiet, and can easily be drowned out, even by our own thoughts, but if we learn to recognize His voice, we can then learn to listen carefully enough to pick it out of a crowd.
However, there's one more catch. Even if we can hear and recognize the voice of the Spirit, that won't do us any good unless we also trust it, despite the fact that our own voice sometimes seems more logical and the adversary's suggestions often seem more tempting. We have to learn to trust that God and His Spirit want what's best for us, and if we listen to them, things will work out better for us than if we had followed our own advice or anyone else's.
So, the voice of the Spirit has to compete to be heard, recognized, and trusted, but if we manage to hear, recognize, and trust the voice of the Spirit, His promptings can save our lives, both physical and spiritual. The Spirit frequently offers people life-saving warnings and life-improving advice. The problem is that His voice is too often too quiet, so we must make special efforts to make sure that, out of all the competing voices, His is the one we listen to and follow. As with the situation with the pilots and the warning alarm, listening to the right voice is absolutely vital.
Saturday, May 25, 2019
Actually Studying the Scriptures
Elder Takashi Wada's talk, Feasting upon the Words of Christ, has reminded me that my recent resurgence of daily scripture study hasn't really been "scripture study" at all.
Sure, I've been reading the scriptures daily, and I ponder them almost as often, but I haven't really been studying them. I haven't been checking the footnotes, looking for relevant General Conference talks, or considering the historical context of the passages I've been reading. Essentially, I haven't been "studying" the scriptures the way I would study any other topic or text.
Still, I'm not sure that studying the scriptures in the conventional manner is actually the best way to get the most out of them. Yes, it might help someone gain a bit more perspective about the scriptures, and that might help them pick up more insights, but I think that the scriptures were meant for more than that. The scriptures aren't just there to teach us; they're also there to inspire us and help us become better people.
That's why I think that the best way to "study" the scriptures is prayerfully. When we read the scriptures, we should also pray for guidance, and we should let our minds be drawn toward whatever thoughts the Spirit inspires in us, whether those thoughts are expressed in the text of the scriptures or not. The Spirit might inspire us to dig deeper, pursue questions, and actually study the scriptures, but if He doesn't, we might be just as well off reading a few verses, pondering them, and thinking about how we can apply them to our lives.
That may or may not be the same thing as actually studying the scriptures, but it sounds like a good idea to me.
Sure, I've been reading the scriptures daily, and I ponder them almost as often, but I haven't really been studying them. I haven't been checking the footnotes, looking for relevant General Conference talks, or considering the historical context of the passages I've been reading. Essentially, I haven't been "studying" the scriptures the way I would study any other topic or text.
Still, I'm not sure that studying the scriptures in the conventional manner is actually the best way to get the most out of them. Yes, it might help someone gain a bit more perspective about the scriptures, and that might help them pick up more insights, but I think that the scriptures were meant for more than that. The scriptures aren't just there to teach us; they're also there to inspire us and help us become better people.
That's why I think that the best way to "study" the scriptures is prayerfully. When we read the scriptures, we should also pray for guidance, and we should let our minds be drawn toward whatever thoughts the Spirit inspires in us, whether those thoughts are expressed in the text of the scriptures or not. The Spirit might inspire us to dig deeper, pursue questions, and actually study the scriptures, but if He doesn't, we might be just as well off reading a few verses, pondering them, and thinking about how we can apply them to our lives.
That may or may not be the same thing as actually studying the scriptures, but it sounds like a good idea to me.
Friday, May 24, 2019
Don't Even Think About It
At the end of his recent General Conference talk, Elder Neil L. Andersen said something very powerful: "No choice, no alternative that denies the companionship of the Holy
Ghost or the blessings of eternity is worthy of our consideration."
Life is full of choices, some of which seem painfully difficult. It can sometimes be very difficult to choose to do the right thing. Satan tries very hard to get us to make wrong choices. Yet, if we are fully committed to living righteously, some of those choices, hard as they are, have already been made. Ideally, we shouldn't have to think about whether or not we'll keep any given commandment because the idea of breaking the commandment isn't worth thinking about.
We regularly face temptation, but dwelling on that temptation is foolish. The longer we consider it, the more likely we'll be drawn in. So, when Satan offers us a temptation, let's not even give him the time of day. There's too much at stake for us to consider any path that leads us away from our ultimate goal. Life gives us a lot of paths we could follow, but if we care where we end up at the end of all this, a lot of those paths aren't even worth considering.
Life is full of choices, some of which seem painfully difficult. It can sometimes be very difficult to choose to do the right thing. Satan tries very hard to get us to make wrong choices. Yet, if we are fully committed to living righteously, some of those choices, hard as they are, have already been made. Ideally, we shouldn't have to think about whether or not we'll keep any given commandment because the idea of breaking the commandment isn't worth thinking about.
We regularly face temptation, but dwelling on that temptation is foolish. The longer we consider it, the more likely we'll be drawn in. So, when Satan offers us a temptation, let's not even give him the time of day. There's too much at stake for us to consider any path that leads us away from our ultimate goal. Life gives us a lot of paths we could follow, but if we care where we end up at the end of all this, a lot of those paths aren't even worth considering.
Thursday, May 23, 2019
Seeing Through Both Eyes
I haven't blogged about a General Conference talk in ages, and I'm beginning to run out of May, so I'd better get back to the Conference blog posts so I don't fall behind. In his General Conference talk, Elder Mathias Held of the 70 spoke about how we can gain additional clarity by looking at things from multiple perspectives:
Of course, this is easier said than done. Some of us see more clearly through one eye than the other. Most people have trained one eye more than the other. Some have even gone so fare as to say that one eye or the other is wrong because it gives us an image that doesn't perfectly match the image given to us by the other eye. But that's like saying that a person's left eye is misleading or incorrect because it doesn't perfectly match the right eye. We need to use them both together to get an image with any depth.
Logic and Spirit may tell us different things, but that doesn't mean that either of them are necessarily wrong. The Bible teaches us about the creation, and science tells us about evolution and dinosaurs, but that doesn't mean that either of them are necessarily wrong. It could be that God created the dinosaurs, and all other creatures, using evolution as His tool. When knowledge from one source doesn't perfectly match the knowledge we get from the other eye, we should consider both eyes together to gain a deeper perspective. Neither mortality nor spirituality alone have all the answers. To get the complete picture, we have to use both together.
It's easy to assume that one perspective is more accurate than the other, but it could instead be true that, in order to get an accurate understanding of the world, we need to look through both perspectives at once.
Our Father in Heaven has given us not only one but two physical eyes. We can see adequately with only one eye, but the second eye provides us with another perspective. When both perspectives are put together in our brains, they produce a three-dimensional image of our surroundings.
Likewise, we have been given two sources of information, through our physical and spiritual capacities. Our mind produces one perception through our physical senses and through our reasoning. But through the gift of the Holy Ghost, the Father has also provided us with a second perspective, which is really the most important and true one because it comes directly from Him.With these two perspectives combined, we can see the world more clearly than we would have seen it from either perspective alone. Using only our mortal perspective, many people get bogged down in the details of everyday life and fail to see the bigger picture. Applying only a spiritual perspective, some people completely miss some of the details and complexity in the world and end up with an over-simplified worldview. When we look at the world from both perspectives, we can put the details into their larger context and see the more specific examples of and exceptions to general maxims. Neither eye alone can give us the complete picture. To see both the big picture and the little picture, we have to use both eyes.
Of course, this is easier said than done. Some of us see more clearly through one eye than the other. Most people have trained one eye more than the other. Some have even gone so fare as to say that one eye or the other is wrong because it gives us an image that doesn't perfectly match the image given to us by the other eye. But that's like saying that a person's left eye is misleading or incorrect because it doesn't perfectly match the right eye. We need to use them both together to get an image with any depth.
Logic and Spirit may tell us different things, but that doesn't mean that either of them are necessarily wrong. The Bible teaches us about the creation, and science tells us about evolution and dinosaurs, but that doesn't mean that either of them are necessarily wrong. It could be that God created the dinosaurs, and all other creatures, using evolution as His tool. When knowledge from one source doesn't perfectly match the knowledge we get from the other eye, we should consider both eyes together to gain a deeper perspective. Neither mortality nor spirituality alone have all the answers. To get the complete picture, we have to use both together.
It's easy to assume that one perspective is more accurate than the other, but it could instead be true that, in order to get an accurate understanding of the world, we need to look through both perspectives at once.
Wednesday, May 22, 2019
The Solaire Pin
For my birthday, my brother gave me an enamel pin replica of the shield of Solaire of Astora, a character in Dark Souls who is well-known for his friendliness, his helpfulness, his fascination with the sun, and his signature gesture, which is called "Praise the Sun," all of which seem out of place in the dark and brutal world of Dark Souls. In Dark Souls, players fight through hordes of undead creatures and even tougher boss monsters who are almost invariably both deadly and disturbing. However, thanks to Solaire and some other characters, Dark Souls players don't always have to face such monsters alone. Solaire is especially helpful in joining players in "jolly co-operation" from time to time. Depending on the player's actions (or inaction), Solaire can even help the player fight the final boss of the game! Solaire is a source of light, hope, help, and friendship in an otherwise dark, depressing, and lonely world.
I plan to take a good deal of inspiration from this pin. I plan to use it as a reminder of my source of light, hope, help, and sometimes even friendship. I plan to let Solaire's signature phrase, "Praise the Sun," remind me to praise the Son of God. I plan to use Solaire as a reminder of what kind of person Jesus Christ is and what kind of person I should be. Solaire is, in my opinion, a paladin, a good person, and, according to some speculation, possibly even a son of a god, making him an excellent model for me. The pin my brother gave me is purely decorative and serves no practical purpose, but still, I expect that it will be of great use to me.
I plan to take a good deal of inspiration from this pin. I plan to use it as a reminder of my source of light, hope, help, and sometimes even friendship. I plan to let Solaire's signature phrase, "Praise the Sun," remind me to praise the Son of God. I plan to use Solaire as a reminder of what kind of person Jesus Christ is and what kind of person I should be. Solaire is, in my opinion, a paladin, a good person, and, according to some speculation, possibly even a son of a god, making him an excellent model for me. The pin my brother gave me is purely decorative and serves no practical purpose, but still, I expect that it will be of great use to me.
Tuesday, May 21, 2019
Different Games for Different Groups
There are many things that I like, but I'll admit that many of them are not for everyone. Not everyone would enjoy Magic: the Gathering, D&D, superhero movies, camping, biking, road trips, or even UNO. People have different tastes, and that's perfectly fine. I'm glad that there are so many different kinds of people in the world and so many different kinds of things for them to try out. I'm lucky that I've found so many things that I like and so many people to share them with. I'm also lucky that I have so many people whom I like and who like me, even if they don't all like all the same things I like. There are other things we can do together, other games we can play, and other topics we can talk about. I'm glad when I can share what I like with others, but if they don't like it as much as I do, that's okay, too. As long as we like each other and can find even one thing we like doing together, I'm happy.
Monday, May 20, 2019
The Son in the Vineyard
When the Prodigal Son came home, he had nothing. He had spent all his inheritance, gotten a crappy job with, we can only assume, crappy pay, and then quit that job to walk who knows how far to get back to his father's house to beg for a job. At that point, I'd like to think that he got it.
The ending of the parable is terribly unclear. Yes, the father welcomed the prodigal son back with open arms, but then what? His father would surely have given him a place to stay, clothes to wear, and food to eat, but he couldn't be given a second inheritance. That wouldn't have been fair to his older brother. The prodigal son, though welcome, was going to have to work for a living, and I'd like to think that he did.
Work is good and essential. It strengthens the body and enlivens the spirit. It gives life a tangible sense of progress and purpose which is far more visible than the spiritual purpose we all have and the spiritual progress we are all hopefully making. Work is wholesome, and I hope the prodigal son got and took the opportunity to do it.
In our mortal lives, work is essential. In the afterlife, work will be just as important, if not more so, even though the nature of the work may change. Instead of "resting in peace," we are going to continue to have Christlike attributes to develop, worlds to create, and spirit children to raise. Death isn't retirement; it's a promotion.
Just as the prodigal son had to work to get back to the place he had willingly left, and continued to have to work when he got there, so will we. We left our Heavenly Father's presence willingly, albeit under very different circumstances, and it will now take a lot of work to get back, yet even once we get back, our work won't be finished yet. That's why it's important to get into the habit of work and to learn to find joy and satisfaction in it. Life requires a lot of work, and that includes both this life and the next.
The ending of the parable is terribly unclear. Yes, the father welcomed the prodigal son back with open arms, but then what? His father would surely have given him a place to stay, clothes to wear, and food to eat, but he couldn't be given a second inheritance. That wouldn't have been fair to his older brother. The prodigal son, though welcome, was going to have to work for a living, and I'd like to think that he did.
Work is good and essential. It strengthens the body and enlivens the spirit. It gives life a tangible sense of progress and purpose which is far more visible than the spiritual purpose we all have and the spiritual progress we are all hopefully making. Work is wholesome, and I hope the prodigal son got and took the opportunity to do it.
In our mortal lives, work is essential. In the afterlife, work will be just as important, if not more so, even though the nature of the work may change. Instead of "resting in peace," we are going to continue to have Christlike attributes to develop, worlds to create, and spirit children to raise. Death isn't retirement; it's a promotion.
Just as the prodigal son had to work to get back to the place he had willingly left, and continued to have to work when he got there, so will we. We left our Heavenly Father's presence willingly, albeit under very different circumstances, and it will now take a lot of work to get back, yet even once we get back, our work won't be finished yet. That's why it's important to get into the habit of work and to learn to find joy and satisfaction in it. Life requires a lot of work, and that includes both this life and the next.
Sunday, May 19, 2019
The Prodigal Laborers
This week, we learned about The Laborers in the Vineyard, a lesson which immediately followed last week's lesson on The Prodigal Son. The similarities and differences between these two parables led me to wonder what, exactly, the prodigal son came home to and what that means for each of us.
In The Laborers in the Vineyard, the eponymous laborers all got same reward. Even though they started their labors at different times, with some working only one hour, they all got the same payment, a full day's pay.
The prodigal son couldn't get same reward as his older brother, mainly because he had already gotten that reward. Near the beginning of the parable, he asked for his share of the inheritance, which he then squandered. Letting him inherit any more money at this point wouldn't be fair to his older brother, since his father would have to take that new inheritance from the older brother's share. The prodigal son can work for his pay, which we would earn through works, but he can't inherit more, which would be given through grace.
If we consider ourselves as "prodigal," which we all arguably are in one way or another, this would imply that, once we get home, we can't receive any more grace, and we would have to ear exaltation through grace. This conflicts with much of what we know about the Gospel, mainly that we are saved by grace after we prove ourselves worthy through works. We all have an inheritance waiting for us, if we act worthily, no matter which or how many sins we've committed and repented of.
The parable of the prodigal son is a good example of God's willingness to love and forgive us, but it's not a good analogy for what we can expect in terms of our eternal rewards, for several reasons. First, unlike the prodigal son's father, God has infinite resources, which He can split into an infinite number of piles of infinite resources each. Even if He has an infinite number of children who prove worthy of His greatest blessings, He can give everyone the same, infinite reward without diminishing anybody else's share. In this way, eternal rewards are much better symbolized by the laborers in the vineyard, even if we, ourselves are more like the prodigal son.
Unfortunately, no analogy is perfect. Sometimes, analogies have to focus on specific aspects of circumstances and can't afford to be stretched too far or taken too literally. Still, I'm glad I looked at these two parables together and considered which parable applied better to which aspects of mortality and judgment. It reminded me that God can afford to be forgiving and generous, no matter what we've done. We don't have to have lived perfectly to receive God's greatest rewards, and sharing those rewards with everyone doesn't mean that any individual gets less than their full share. Both parables help explain God's forgiveness and judgment. We just need to remember which parable explains which part.
In The Laborers in the Vineyard, the eponymous laborers all got same reward. Even though they started their labors at different times, with some working only one hour, they all got the same payment, a full day's pay.
The prodigal son couldn't get same reward as his older brother, mainly because he had already gotten that reward. Near the beginning of the parable, he asked for his share of the inheritance, which he then squandered. Letting him inherit any more money at this point wouldn't be fair to his older brother, since his father would have to take that new inheritance from the older brother's share. The prodigal son can work for his pay, which we would earn through works, but he can't inherit more, which would be given through grace.
If we consider ourselves as "prodigal," which we all arguably are in one way or another, this would imply that, once we get home, we can't receive any more grace, and we would have to ear exaltation through grace. This conflicts with much of what we know about the Gospel, mainly that we are saved by grace after we prove ourselves worthy through works. We all have an inheritance waiting for us, if we act worthily, no matter which or how many sins we've committed and repented of.
The parable of the prodigal son is a good example of God's willingness to love and forgive us, but it's not a good analogy for what we can expect in terms of our eternal rewards, for several reasons. First, unlike the prodigal son's father, God has infinite resources, which He can split into an infinite number of piles of infinite resources each. Even if He has an infinite number of children who prove worthy of His greatest blessings, He can give everyone the same, infinite reward without diminishing anybody else's share. In this way, eternal rewards are much better symbolized by the laborers in the vineyard, even if we, ourselves are more like the prodigal son.
Unfortunately, no analogy is perfect. Sometimes, analogies have to focus on specific aspects of circumstances and can't afford to be stretched too far or taken too literally. Still, I'm glad I looked at these two parables together and considered which parable applied better to which aspects of mortality and judgment. It reminded me that God can afford to be forgiving and generous, no matter what we've done. We don't have to have lived perfectly to receive God's greatest rewards, and sharing those rewards with everyone doesn't mean that any individual gets less than their full share. Both parables help explain God's forgiveness and judgment. We just need to remember which parable explains which part.
Saturday, May 18, 2019
A Sacred Place
I went to to the Oakland Temple Open House today, and while I was there, I heard someone misread one of the signs. The sign said that the Temple is a sacred place, but the child read that the Temple is a "scared" place. I don't think temples can be scared, but I have to admit that they can potentially be scary to anyone who misunderstands them. That's why I think it's important that we have Temple Tours and fairly open conversations about temples. It's easy to fear things we don't understand, and it's easy to misunderstand things that aren't explained to us very well.
So, if and when our conversations turn to topics like temples, or garments, or baptisms for the dead, let's try to be as open and honest as possible and to explain them as thoroughly and as clearly as we can while respecting the sacred nature of the subject. It falls to those of us who are familiar with those subjects to clear up the kinds of misconceptions that can lead to misunderstanding and, potentially, fear.
So, if and when our conversations turn to topics like temples, or garments, or baptisms for the dead, let's try to be as open and honest as possible and to explain them as thoroughly and as clearly as we can while respecting the sacred nature of the subject. It falls to those of us who are familiar with those subjects to clear up the kinds of misconceptions that can lead to misunderstanding and, potentially, fear.
Friday, May 17, 2019
Blogging After Eleven Again
I keep finding myself in the same situation. It's the end of the day, less than an hour until midnight, trying to crank out a blog post before the calendar changes. Sometimes, I have no idea what to blog about. Sometimes, I have an idea of what to blog about, but I don't think I can do the idea justice. I often get too tired to really focus on putting coherent thoughts together, so I just ramble on for a little while about any vaguely blogworthy thought I can think of.
That's no way to do this. You deserve better blog posts, and I'd get more benefit out of them, too. I should have a sleep schedule that doesn't keep me up past midnight every night, and it might help me feel less stressed and cranky, too. There are many benefits to blogging earlier, so why don't I?
I think it's mostly that I procrastinate it. There are other things I'd rather be doing, and sometimes I do those things first. I still need to remember that one's priorities don't always dictate the order of one's actions. Just because I have a strong desire to do something, that doesn't mean I should do that thing first. Besides, I should think of blogging as a higher priority than just some evening chore, especially since I can't go to bed until I do it.
This is all just to say, yet again, that I should learn to blog earlier. I already know that I should. Unfortunately, it can take a long time for messages to sink in, and it can take even longer to overcome bad habits and form good habits in their place. When I'm less tired, I'll try to think of ways to foster the habit of blogging earlier. For now, I think I'll call this "blog post" good enough so I can go to bed.
That's no way to do this. You deserve better blog posts, and I'd get more benefit out of them, too. I should have a sleep schedule that doesn't keep me up past midnight every night, and it might help me feel less stressed and cranky, too. There are many benefits to blogging earlier, so why don't I?
I think it's mostly that I procrastinate it. There are other things I'd rather be doing, and sometimes I do those things first. I still need to remember that one's priorities don't always dictate the order of one's actions. Just because I have a strong desire to do something, that doesn't mean I should do that thing first. Besides, I should think of blogging as a higher priority than just some evening chore, especially since I can't go to bed until I do it.
This is all just to say, yet again, that I should learn to blog earlier. I already know that I should. Unfortunately, it can take a long time for messages to sink in, and it can take even longer to overcome bad habits and form good habits in their place. When I'm less tired, I'll try to think of ways to foster the habit of blogging earlier. For now, I think I'll call this "blog post" good enough so I can go to bed.
Gospel Joy
One thing I've learned (or rather, been reminded of) in my personal scripture study is that the Gospel was given to us to help us have joy. Sure, there's a good deal of affliction and challenges, but most of those afflictions would have happened to us anyway, and the afflictions and challenges are nothing compared to the eternal joy we'll feel when we're done facing them, especially if we've met those challenges and/or endured those afflictions well. Living the Gospel isn't easy, but I have reason to believe that it'll be worth it, especially since the reward for righteous living is eternal, immeasurable joy.
Wednesday, May 15, 2019
Cycles in Mortal (and Eternal?) Life
The semester is winding down. I had the first of my final exams this morning. I've got another one the day after tomorrow. The last day of work is shortly after that. And then I just have some applications to submit, some errands to run, and some preparations to make, to get me ready for the Summer Break and the Fall Semester.
Once again, I've come to the end of a cycle. One time period ends, and another is about to begin. The Endgame is over, but there are more MCU films on the horizon. We're wrapping up one D&D campaign and planning another. It's nighttime as I write this, but tomorrow is right around the corner.
This must happen near-constantly, I imagine. Ends and beginnings flow into each other, as each phase ends with the question "What comes next?" I wonder if it will be like this for the rest of eternity. We know that we will live forever, but will it feel like an infinitely long day, or will it feel like an infinitely long series of days, kind of like how mortal life feels.
Life exists in cycles, and every end of one cycle is the beginning of another. I can imagine that pattern continuing forever. I don't know for sure that's what life will be like in heaven, but it's certainly the way things are now, and I'm sure there's a lesson to learn from that, even if we stop cycling through cycles in the eternities. I can imagine life going on forever in the afterlife, but it's a lot easier to imagine it as an infinite series of cycles.
Once again, I've come to the end of a cycle. One time period ends, and another is about to begin. The Endgame is over, but there are more MCU films on the horizon. We're wrapping up one D&D campaign and planning another. It's nighttime as I write this, but tomorrow is right around the corner.
This must happen near-constantly, I imagine. Ends and beginnings flow into each other, as each phase ends with the question "What comes next?" I wonder if it will be like this for the rest of eternity. We know that we will live forever, but will it feel like an infinitely long day, or will it feel like an infinitely long series of days, kind of like how mortal life feels.
Life exists in cycles, and every end of one cycle is the beginning of another. I can imagine that pattern continuing forever. I don't know for sure that's what life will be like in heaven, but it's certainly the way things are now, and I'm sure there's a lesson to learn from that, even if we stop cycling through cycles in the eternities. I can imagine life going on forever in the afterlife, but it's a lot easier to imagine it as an infinite series of cycles.
Character Growth
Many stories (I would almost dare say "most stories") revolve around character growth. The main character almost always experiences some kind of growth, whether they grow physically stronger, more emotionally resilient, wiser, more intelligent, or simply better in any number of ways. Sometimes, the character starts with clear flaws and, over the course of the story, overcomes them. Sometimes, the character starts well and is brought low by something, only to rise up higher than they started. In one way or another, many, if not most, of our stories focus on personal growth.
Of course they do. Our entire mortal existence is dedicated to the idea of personal growth.
We are all trying to grow from foolish mortals to all-wise gods and goddesses. This transition requires and unthinkable amount of growth, physically, spiritually, and in virtually every other way. We each have countless flaws to overcome and even more skills and positive traits to develop. In short, we need to grow. That may be why so many of our stories involve character growth; it's what our entire lives are about. I'm glad so many of our stories reflect that. It gives us a lot of role-models we can learn from, and the lessons we learn from our growing heroes will help us to grow as well.
Of course they do. Our entire mortal existence is dedicated to the idea of personal growth.
We are all trying to grow from foolish mortals to all-wise gods and goddesses. This transition requires and unthinkable amount of growth, physically, spiritually, and in virtually every other way. We each have countless flaws to overcome and even more skills and positive traits to develop. In short, we need to grow. That may be why so many of our stories involve character growth; it's what our entire lives are about. I'm glad so many of our stories reflect that. It gives us a lot of role-models we can learn from, and the lessons we learn from our growing heroes will help us to grow as well.
Monday, May 13, 2019
WARNING: ENDGAME SPOILERS
This blog post will contain spoilers for Avengers: Endgame. If you have not seen Avengers: Endgame, and you still intend to watch it before you experience any spoilers, a) You should probably get on that as soon as possible, and b) You should definitely skip this blog post, as this post will contain spoilers for the first and second acts of the film.
Were the title of this blog post not occupied with a warning about Endgame Spoilers, its title would have been "Still Worthy"
First, a little bit of backstory. The opening scene of Avengers: Infinity War, the film immediately before Endgame, depicts the mad titan Thanos aboard Thor's ship, having defeated Thor and killed about half of Thor's people. Thor, one of our many protagonists in the Avengers series, was the first of our heroes with a real chance to defeat Thanos, and he failed.
Reeling from this failure, Thor traveled to a dwarven forge where he could create a replacement for his hammer, Mjolnir. One of Thor's main heroic qualities is being worthy to wield this legendary weapon, which no one else can lift, but it was destroyed in a previous film, hence the need for a replacement.
Armed with his replacement weapon, an ax named Stormbreaker, Thor sought a rematch with Thanos, who was now well on his way to accomplishing his misguided plan to destroy half of all life in the universe. Thor's power now overwhelmed Thanos, gravely wounding him, but as Thor gloated in his victory, Thanos completed his. Thanos succeeded in killing one half of all living beings in the universe, and then he teleported away, leaving a once-again-defeated Thor behind.
Which brings us to Endgame.
Not knowing where Thanos had gone, there was nothing Thor could do but brood over his failure, but he eventually learns of Thanos's location, which is also the location of a plot device that could bring everyone back to life. Thor and his allies confront Thanos and defeat him, only to learn that Thanos had destroyed the plot device, making it impossible for Thor or anyone else to bring back those whom Thanos had killed. Thor killed Thanos in retribution, but the damage had already begun. Thor had failed to stop Thanos twice and had then failed to undo what Thanos had done.
Thor was absolutely crushed by his many defeats and failures. He turned to drinking heavily and ultimately became a fairly sad excuse for a human being, which is all the more tragic as he had once been a God and a King. His fall from celestial heights to a terrestrial pit almost utterly destroyed him. Yet, he got another chance. Using a time machine his allies invented, Thor traveled back in to to a point when both Mjolnir and the plot device still existed. But by the time he got to a time and place where his hammer was, he was surprised to find that he was still worthy to lift it.
Despite his failings, and despite his stumbling into vice as he brooded over his failings, his hammer still considered him a worthy hero. I wonder what it was that Mjolnir still saw in him. And, on a related note, I wonder what God still sees in me.
I am not a God. I never was one. I am human, even more human than Thor. I fail occasionally, some might say frequently, and I usually lament over my failings when they happen, though not as hard as Thor lamented his. I haven't turned to drinking, but I have other vices which, in my estimation, make me unworthy of most, if not all of God's blessings. Yet, God still speaks to me when I speak to Him. He still blesses me with more blessings than I probably deserve. And He still encourages me to keep fighting, even though I often feel as hopeless as I think Thor felt.
We all fail, to one level or another, almost constantly. Yet, God still considers us worthy of His love and help. Thor was surprised he was still worthy to wield Mjolnir, and I am frequently surprised that I am still worthy of God's love. Perhaps God and Mjolnir are more charitable than I thought they were, more charitable than I think I would have been. I wouldn't consider myself worthy of God's blessings any more than I considered Thor worthy to wield Mjolnir at that time. Both I and the entire Marvel Cinematic Universe are lucky that I am not the judge of who is and isn't worthy. Mjolnir judges the hearts of Marvel heroes, and God is the one who judges our hearts, sometimes more kindly than we think we deserve. Thus, we are sometimes surprised when God weighs our hearts and decides that we are still worthy.
I'm thankful that God is the judge of worthiness rather than me, and I'm thankful that He more readily forgives me than I forgive myself. I still have a ways to go before I can be declared worthy of all of God's blessings, but for now, I'm just glad that God thinks I'm still worthy of any of them.
Were the title of this blog post not occupied with a warning about Endgame Spoilers, its title would have been "Still Worthy"
First, a little bit of backstory. The opening scene of Avengers: Infinity War, the film immediately before Endgame, depicts the mad titan Thanos aboard Thor's ship, having defeated Thor and killed about half of Thor's people. Thor, one of our many protagonists in the Avengers series, was the first of our heroes with a real chance to defeat Thanos, and he failed.
Reeling from this failure, Thor traveled to a dwarven forge where he could create a replacement for his hammer, Mjolnir. One of Thor's main heroic qualities is being worthy to wield this legendary weapon, which no one else can lift, but it was destroyed in a previous film, hence the need for a replacement.
Armed with his replacement weapon, an ax named Stormbreaker, Thor sought a rematch with Thanos, who was now well on his way to accomplishing his misguided plan to destroy half of all life in the universe. Thor's power now overwhelmed Thanos, gravely wounding him, but as Thor gloated in his victory, Thanos completed his. Thanos succeeded in killing one half of all living beings in the universe, and then he teleported away, leaving a once-again-defeated Thor behind.
Which brings us to Endgame.
Not knowing where Thanos had gone, there was nothing Thor could do but brood over his failure, but he eventually learns of Thanos's location, which is also the location of a plot device that could bring everyone back to life. Thor and his allies confront Thanos and defeat him, only to learn that Thanos had destroyed the plot device, making it impossible for Thor or anyone else to bring back those whom Thanos had killed. Thor killed Thanos in retribution, but the damage had already begun. Thor had failed to stop Thanos twice and had then failed to undo what Thanos had done.
Thor was absolutely crushed by his many defeats and failures. He turned to drinking heavily and ultimately became a fairly sad excuse for a human being, which is all the more tragic as he had once been a God and a King. His fall from celestial heights to a terrestrial pit almost utterly destroyed him. Yet, he got another chance. Using a time machine his allies invented, Thor traveled back in to to a point when both Mjolnir and the plot device still existed. But by the time he got to a time and place where his hammer was, he was surprised to find that he was still worthy to lift it.
Despite his failings, and despite his stumbling into vice as he brooded over his failings, his hammer still considered him a worthy hero. I wonder what it was that Mjolnir still saw in him. And, on a related note, I wonder what God still sees in me.
I am not a God. I never was one. I am human, even more human than Thor. I fail occasionally, some might say frequently, and I usually lament over my failings when they happen, though not as hard as Thor lamented his. I haven't turned to drinking, but I have other vices which, in my estimation, make me unworthy of most, if not all of God's blessings. Yet, God still speaks to me when I speak to Him. He still blesses me with more blessings than I probably deserve. And He still encourages me to keep fighting, even though I often feel as hopeless as I think Thor felt.
We all fail, to one level or another, almost constantly. Yet, God still considers us worthy of His love and help. Thor was surprised he was still worthy to wield Mjolnir, and I am frequently surprised that I am still worthy of God's love. Perhaps God and Mjolnir are more charitable than I thought they were, more charitable than I think I would have been. I wouldn't consider myself worthy of God's blessings any more than I considered Thor worthy to wield Mjolnir at that time. Both I and the entire Marvel Cinematic Universe are lucky that I am not the judge of who is and isn't worthy. Mjolnir judges the hearts of Marvel heroes, and God is the one who judges our hearts, sometimes more kindly than we think we deserve. Thus, we are sometimes surprised when God weighs our hearts and decides that we are still worthy.
I'm thankful that God is the judge of worthiness rather than me, and I'm thankful that He more readily forgives me than I forgive myself. I still have a ways to go before I can be declared worthy of all of God's blessings, but for now, I'm just glad that God thinks I'm still worthy of any of them.
Sunday, May 12, 2019
I'm Going to Play a Paladin
The DM for the D&D game I play at Comics & Collectibles has let us know that the campaign we are currently running, the pirates campaign, will be ending soon. Once it's over, we're going to start a new campaign with brand new characters, which means that I finally get to play a Paladin.
However, there are a few problems with this. The first problem is that I'm not sure how I want to build this Paladin character. The Paladin class in D&D isn't really how I'd like my character to be. I'd like him to have more defensive magic and healing. More spell slots would be nice. I'm strongly considering multi-classing, to the point that I'm practically planning on it, but I haven't figured out which class I want him to multi-class into. I also have to pick out the Paladin's race and background, not to mention his backstory and personality. Long story short, I know that I want to be a Paladin, but I don't know what kind of Paladin I want to be or how I'll make that work within the rules of the game.
Another problem is that we're not jumping into the next campaign as soon as the current one ends. We'll spend some time between campaigns doing side quests and mini-adventures as a band of mercenary adventurers. This problem is almost a solution to the previous problem, as it will give me time to try to figure out what kind of Paladin I want to be and how to make it work. The problem is that I don't know how much time it will give me. If it's a short amount of time, I should whip up a character that would be fun to play for a while, but that I won't be emotionally invested in, since I won't be playing him for long.
If it's a long time, I would like to spend it as a Paladin as well, which means that I need to make two Paladin characters and make them sufficiently different that neither I nor others get tired of me playing basically the same character. I can probably accomplish this by giving the characters different races, voices, backgrounds, backstories, moral imperatives, and motivations, but if they're too similar mechanically (such as being primarily built around the same character class), they might still be too similar, despite any and all other differences.
I'm not sure what to do. I want to play a Paladin, but I'm not sure what kind of Paladin I want to play, and I'm not sure about playing two Paladins back-to-back. If I decide not to play two Paladins back-to-back, I should play something else first, so I can be a Paladin during the next major campaign, but that means waiting longer for my next opportunity to be a Paladin. Perhaps I could work things out so I could be a Paladin in spirit, if not on paper. I could be an especially noble Fighter or a somewhat martial Cleric, and either of them would be Paladin-like enough for my purposes without technically being Paladins. Maybe I'll play one of those for the mid-campaign adventures while I try to figure out what kind of Paladin I want to be when I finally get to start actually playing a Paladin.
All issues aside, I'm pretty excited about this. After more than a year of being Krusk Bloodfist, a Barbarian Pirate, I finally get to play a character with strong moral values, someone I can use as a role-model and as morality practice. I can finally start being a Lawful Good person, both in real life and in my weekly games. I've enjoyed playing Krusk Bloodfist, and I've LOVED watching his story unfold. I hope it ends well for him. But I'm looking forward to wrapping up his story over the next few months and passing the torch to a new, more noble character. I've had fun being a pirate, but now I'm excited about finally getting to play a Paladin.
However, there are a few problems with this. The first problem is that I'm not sure how I want to build this Paladin character. The Paladin class in D&D isn't really how I'd like my character to be. I'd like him to have more defensive magic and healing. More spell slots would be nice. I'm strongly considering multi-classing, to the point that I'm practically planning on it, but I haven't figured out which class I want him to multi-class into. I also have to pick out the Paladin's race and background, not to mention his backstory and personality. Long story short, I know that I want to be a Paladin, but I don't know what kind of Paladin I want to be or how I'll make that work within the rules of the game.
Another problem is that we're not jumping into the next campaign as soon as the current one ends. We'll spend some time between campaigns doing side quests and mini-adventures as a band of mercenary adventurers. This problem is almost a solution to the previous problem, as it will give me time to try to figure out what kind of Paladin I want to be and how to make it work. The problem is that I don't know how much time it will give me. If it's a short amount of time, I should whip up a character that would be fun to play for a while, but that I won't be emotionally invested in, since I won't be playing him for long.
If it's a long time, I would like to spend it as a Paladin as well, which means that I need to make two Paladin characters and make them sufficiently different that neither I nor others get tired of me playing basically the same character. I can probably accomplish this by giving the characters different races, voices, backgrounds, backstories, moral imperatives, and motivations, but if they're too similar mechanically (such as being primarily built around the same character class), they might still be too similar, despite any and all other differences.
I'm not sure what to do. I want to play a Paladin, but I'm not sure what kind of Paladin I want to play, and I'm not sure about playing two Paladins back-to-back. If I decide not to play two Paladins back-to-back, I should play something else first, so I can be a Paladin during the next major campaign, but that means waiting longer for my next opportunity to be a Paladin. Perhaps I could work things out so I could be a Paladin in spirit, if not on paper. I could be an especially noble Fighter or a somewhat martial Cleric, and either of them would be Paladin-like enough for my purposes without technically being Paladins. Maybe I'll play one of those for the mid-campaign adventures while I try to figure out what kind of Paladin I want to be when I finally get to start actually playing a Paladin.
All issues aside, I'm pretty excited about this. After more than a year of being Krusk Bloodfist, a Barbarian Pirate, I finally get to play a character with strong moral values, someone I can use as a role-model and as morality practice. I can finally start being a Lawful Good person, both in real life and in my weekly games. I've enjoyed playing Krusk Bloodfist, and I've LOVED watching his story unfold. I hope it ends well for him. But I'm looking forward to wrapping up his story over the next few months and passing the torch to a new, more noble character. I've had fun being a pirate, but now I'm excited about finally getting to play a Paladin.
Saturday, May 11, 2019
Deciding the Fight between Titans
If all goes according to plan (and when does it ever?), one of the D&D groups I run D&D for will soon (or eventually) encounter a battle between forces more powerful than any of them. These forces are so powerful that, if the D&D party had to fight either one of them, the party would probably lose, or would at least have a REALLY hard time winning. However, if they play their cards right, the D&D party won't have to fight the aggressor force alone. There will be two great forces in this fight, beside the party. The party's role will be to lend their support, tip the scales of the otherwise-evenly-matched forces, and decide which force defeats the other, even though they probably couldn't defeat either force themselves.
Naturally, this coming conflict is reminding me of the internal conflict we all face every day. There are powerful spiritual forces fighting for our souls. God wants to save us, and Satan wants to destroy us. If we had to fight Satan alone, we'd have a difficult time of it. He has thousands of years of experience, he knows us and our weaknesses well, and he never gets tired of fighting us. A one-on-one fight against Satan is a fight I'm not sure we can win. We certainly can't win easily.
Fortunately, we don't have to fight him alone. God will help us, if we ask Him to, and His power puts Satan's power to shame. If we team up with God, we will certainly defeat Satan, even if we couldn't have defeated him on our own. This may not be a fight we can win on our own, but we don't have to. This doesn't have to be a one-on-one fight against Satan. It's a fight of God against Satan, and we each decides who wins.
My D&D players may not be able to defeat the forces that will stand against them on their own, but they don't have to fight alone. Instead, they can join their chosen side and help their ally win. Similarly, we may not be able to defeat our adversary on our own, and we'd be foolish to try. But God is fighting for our souls just as hard as Satan is, and which of those forces win the fight for our souls is ultimately up to us to decide.
Naturally, this coming conflict is reminding me of the internal conflict we all face every day. There are powerful spiritual forces fighting for our souls. God wants to save us, and Satan wants to destroy us. If we had to fight Satan alone, we'd have a difficult time of it. He has thousands of years of experience, he knows us and our weaknesses well, and he never gets tired of fighting us. A one-on-one fight against Satan is a fight I'm not sure we can win. We certainly can't win easily.
Fortunately, we don't have to fight him alone. God will help us, if we ask Him to, and His power puts Satan's power to shame. If we team up with God, we will certainly defeat Satan, even if we couldn't have defeated him on our own. This may not be a fight we can win on our own, but we don't have to. This doesn't have to be a one-on-one fight against Satan. It's a fight of God against Satan, and we each decides who wins.
My D&D players may not be able to defeat the forces that will stand against them on their own, but they don't have to fight alone. Instead, they can join their chosen side and help their ally win. Similarly, we may not be able to defeat our adversary on our own, and we'd be foolish to try. But God is fighting for our souls just as hard as Satan is, and which of those forces win the fight for our souls is ultimately up to us to decide.
"Why Should We Care?"
I once heard someone ask why anyone would oppose gay marriage. After all, it's not our business who anyone gets together with. Why should we care? But therein lies the answer: because we care.
I care about people in a general, "I wish you well" sense. I'm no Mother Teresa, but I don't like the idea of people suffering, even if they brought their suffering on themselves through poor choices.
Committing sexual sin is a very poor choice, one that carries severe, eternal consequences. Homosexuality is, for various reasons, a sin for which those who engage in it will eventually suffer.
I don't want them to suffer. I don't want them to convince others that sin is normal and acceptable and thus lead those others to sin and suffer. It is a moral imperative to reduce and prevent human suffering as much as possible. If I can reduce human suffering by opposing gay marriage (and/or other sexual sin), I will.
I care about people in a general, "I wish you well" sense. I'm no Mother Teresa, but I don't like the idea of people suffering, even if they brought their suffering on themselves through poor choices.
Committing sexual sin is a very poor choice, one that carries severe, eternal consequences. Homosexuality is, for various reasons, a sin for which those who engage in it will eventually suffer.
I don't want them to suffer. I don't want them to convince others that sin is normal and acceptable and thus lead those others to sin and suffer. It is a moral imperative to reduce and prevent human suffering as much as possible. If I can reduce human suffering by opposing gay marriage (and/or other sexual sin), I will.
Thursday, May 9, 2019
Reviewing Lessons
As I've been rereading the Book of Mormon to keep my daily streak going, I've been taking time to linger on some verses, rereading the same verses every day for a few days, letting the message sink in.
I think that may be part of the purpose of the new Come, Follow Me curriculum. Each week, we study the same few chapters of the New Testament for the whole week, going over (and over) stories, miracles, and teachings that we've all heard several times by now.
Still, I think there is value in reviewing the same lessons repeatedly. As our lives change, so does our perspective. When we reread familiar passages, we sometimes pick up on insights we had previously missed and sometimes gain new insights about the same lessons.
But even when we don't learn anything new from reviewing the same old verses, it still might be worth reviewing them, to let the same old messages sink in a little deeper. As young as we are (from an eternal perspective), we could stand to review the basics several times -- as many times as we need to learn them by heart and internalize them. I'm not sure any of us will live long enough or learn fast enough to reach the point where we don't need to review the first principles of the Gospel anymore, not in one lifetime anyway.
And if we could spend a lifetime learning about faith and repentance and still not master them, I'd say that any given verse in the Book of Mormon is worth at least a few days of review.
I think that may be part of the purpose of the new Come, Follow Me curriculum. Each week, we study the same few chapters of the New Testament for the whole week, going over (and over) stories, miracles, and teachings that we've all heard several times by now.
Still, I think there is value in reviewing the same lessons repeatedly. As our lives change, so does our perspective. When we reread familiar passages, we sometimes pick up on insights we had previously missed and sometimes gain new insights about the same lessons.
But even when we don't learn anything new from reviewing the same old verses, it still might be worth reviewing them, to let the same old messages sink in a little deeper. As young as we are (from an eternal perspective), we could stand to review the basics several times -- as many times as we need to learn them by heart and internalize them. I'm not sure any of us will live long enough or learn fast enough to reach the point where we don't need to review the first principles of the Gospel anymore, not in one lifetime anyway.
And if we could spend a lifetime learning about faith and repentance and still not master them, I'd say that any given verse in the Book of Mormon is worth at least a few days of review.
Wednesday, May 8, 2019
Acceptance Without Explanation
I took an Algebra class in college a while back, and when I did, I would always want to know how each formula worked. Often, my instructor was willing to take the time to teach the class how the formula worked, but I also remember there being times when the instructor told us that we would just have to take his word for it. The math involved in explaining that particular formula was well above our level, and there was no way we would understand it without learning a bunch of other math first, and we just weren't there yet. And at those times, though I was a bit disappointed with not knowing why or how the formula worked, I found myself able to be willing to apply the formula, just trusting that the instructor's formula was correct.
If I can extend that kind of trust to someone who teaches algebra at a community college, I can certainly extend that kind of trust to God.
God gives us lots of commandments. With many of those commandments, He also gives us explanations of why we should or shouldn't do this or that. However, there are times when God asks us to just take His word for it and trust that something is good or bad, based only on His say-so, even though we wouldn't really understand why. At those times, I sometimes get frustrated with God. I like to know why God wants me to do this and don't do that or support this and oppose that. I know there must be an explanation, and I want to know what it is.
However, I know that, sometimes, I'm just not ready. There are principles I'm not yet prepared to learn and factors that I don't yet understand. I'm sure that if I knew everything that God knows, it would all make perfect sense to me, but I don't know anywhere near that much, and I probably couldn't even comprehend the number of things that He knows that I don't. In time, I will learn the explanations, and the commandments will all make sense to me. In the meantime, I should extend to God the same courtesy I extended to my algebra teacher and accept His teachings, with or without explanations.
If I can extend that kind of trust to someone who teaches algebra at a community college, I can certainly extend that kind of trust to God.
God gives us lots of commandments. With many of those commandments, He also gives us explanations of why we should or shouldn't do this or that. However, there are times when God asks us to just take His word for it and trust that something is good or bad, based only on His say-so, even though we wouldn't really understand why. At those times, I sometimes get frustrated with God. I like to know why God wants me to do this and don't do that or support this and oppose that. I know there must be an explanation, and I want to know what it is.
However, I know that, sometimes, I'm just not ready. There are principles I'm not yet prepared to learn and factors that I don't yet understand. I'm sure that if I knew everything that God knows, it would all make perfect sense to me, but I don't know anywhere near that much, and I probably couldn't even comprehend the number of things that He knows that I don't. In time, I will learn the explanations, and the commandments will all make sense to me. In the meantime, I should extend to God the same courtesy I extended to my algebra teacher and accept His teachings, with or without explanations.
Tuesday, May 7, 2019
Why Job Was Not a Materialist
I'm double-dipping again. I'm tired, and I'd like to try to go to bed at a semi-reasonable hour tonight, so I'm going to copy an assignment I wrote for my Bible as Literature class, exploring evidence of why Job was not a materialistic man.
Before (and after) his testing, Job was a wealthy man. “He [had] owned 7,000 sheep, 3,000 camels, 500 teams of oxen, and 500 female donkeys. He also had many servants. He was, in fact, the richest person in that entire area” (Job 1:3).
The origin of this wealth is not clearly stated in the text, but I think it’s safe to assume that he must have put at least some effort into amassing or at least maintaining it. Job, in all likelihood, put in at least some work for his wealth.
However, it is clear by the several chapters that followed that he had not set his heart on his wealth. Early on in his testing, Job was informed that he had lost all his livestock to the Chaldeans, the Sabeans, and the “fire of God [falling] from heaven” (Job 1:15-17). Yet, despite this tremendous financial loss, Job still praised God, saying “I came naked from my mother’s womb, and I will be naked when I leave. The LORD gave me what I had, and the LORD has taken it away. Praise the name of the LORD!” (Job 1:21). It is true that Job “tore his robe in grief” at the deluge of bad news he received (Job 1:20), but that grief could have been caused by the loss of his children rather than the loss of his fortune (Job 1:19).
I think that how Job truly exemplified his anti-materialism was the fact that, in all the chapters that followed, in all the chapters in which he and his friends discussed his sorry state, I don’t recall him even once complaining about the loss of his belongings. He lamented his fate in general terms, but I don’t think he ever lamented losing his livestock. Instead, Job kept his mind set on heaven and paid very little attention his material losses. A materialistic man would have complained had he lost all his material wealth. By not doing so, Job made it clear that his true wealth wasn’t stored on Earth, but in Heaven.
Before (and after) his testing, Job was a wealthy man. “He [had] owned 7,000 sheep, 3,000 camels, 500 teams of oxen, and 500 female donkeys. He also had many servants. He was, in fact, the richest person in that entire area” (Job 1:3).
The origin of this wealth is not clearly stated in the text, but I think it’s safe to assume that he must have put at least some effort into amassing or at least maintaining it. Job, in all likelihood, put in at least some work for his wealth.
However, it is clear by the several chapters that followed that he had not set his heart on his wealth. Early on in his testing, Job was informed that he had lost all his livestock to the Chaldeans, the Sabeans, and the “fire of God [falling] from heaven” (Job 1:15-17). Yet, despite this tremendous financial loss, Job still praised God, saying “I came naked from my mother’s womb, and I will be naked when I leave. The LORD gave me what I had, and the LORD has taken it away. Praise the name of the LORD!” (Job 1:21). It is true that Job “tore his robe in grief” at the deluge of bad news he received (Job 1:20), but that grief could have been caused by the loss of his children rather than the loss of his fortune (Job 1:19).
I think that how Job truly exemplified his anti-materialism was the fact that, in all the chapters that followed, in all the chapters in which he and his friends discussed his sorry state, I don’t recall him even once complaining about the loss of his belongings. He lamented his fate in general terms, but I don’t think he ever lamented losing his livestock. Instead, Job kept his mind set on heaven and paid very little attention his material losses. A materialistic man would have complained had he lost all his material wealth. By not doing so, Job made it clear that his true wealth wasn’t stored on Earth, but in Heaven.
Monday, May 6, 2019
A Walk in the Park
I went for a walk today. I had some time between a class and lunch and work, so I decided to spend that time walking in a park with trees and grass and flowers. It was nice. I should do that more often, and maybe bring a musical instrument next time. I like how, even in the middle of a city, there are still places where one can reconnect with nature and go on a revitalizing walk. That's one thing I love about Sacramento: We're a decent-sized city, but we still have lots of trees.
Sunday, May 5, 2019
The Battle for Happiness
In his Saturday Afternoon talk, , President M. Russell Ballard shared a paragraph that sheds some light on what Satan is up to and what we ought to do about it:
God wants us to be happy, and Satan wants us to be miserable. All of existence was designed with those goals in mind. Everything that gives lasting happiness was designed by God to do so. Everything that brings us misery was designed by Satan to do so. We can tell, by whether something brings us joy or misery, whether it was designed by God or Satan and whether it will draw us closer to God or farther away. Of course, it's not always easy to tell which is which. Satan tends to counterfeit God's blessings, and God sometimes lets us endure temporary unpleasantness for our eternal gain, but when we look at the big picture, we can often tell whether something contributes to or detracts from our eternal happiness.
This knowledge both reinforces our desire to follow God (because really, who doesn't want peace, joy, and happiness?) and gives us a way to measure how well we're doing at that. If we're happy, we're probably doing alright. If we're not, there may be something we want to work on. Ultimately, I'm glad that God wants me to be happy and that He gave us guidelines that, if followed, will lead to eternal happiness. Ican't speak for the rest of you, but I know I have times when I could stand to be happier, and now I know both why that happens and what I can do about it.
The scriptures teach us that Satan desires to lead people into darkness. His every effort is to shut out the light and truth of Jesus Christ and His gospel. As Lehi taught his children, the devil “seeketh that all men might be miserable like unto himself.” If Heavenly Father’s “work and … glory” is “to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of [men and women],” Lucifer’s “work” is to bring to pass the misery and endless woe of God’s children. Sin and transgression dim the Light of Christ in our lives. That is why our quest is to bask in the Light of Christ, which brings peace, joy, and happiness.Simply put, Satan wants us to be miserable, so he tries to lead us away from God, the source of happiness. This is important to know because it reveals that the spiritual war we are engaged in isn't just between righteousness and wickedness, but between happiness and misery. Happiness and misery aren't just the consequences of the actions we're being urged to take; those actions are the ones being urged because they're the ones that lead to the most happiness or misery. God's commandments are designed to bring about lasting happiness, true peace, and pure joy. Meanwhile, Satan uses every trick he can think of to pull us away from those things. Happiness and misery aren't just the stakes we're fighting for; they're the objects of the war and the entire reason why we're even fighting it.
God wants us to be happy, and Satan wants us to be miserable. All of existence was designed with those goals in mind. Everything that gives lasting happiness was designed by God to do so. Everything that brings us misery was designed by Satan to do so. We can tell, by whether something brings us joy or misery, whether it was designed by God or Satan and whether it will draw us closer to God or farther away. Of course, it's not always easy to tell which is which. Satan tends to counterfeit God's blessings, and God sometimes lets us endure temporary unpleasantness for our eternal gain, but when we look at the big picture, we can often tell whether something contributes to or detracts from our eternal happiness.
This knowledge both reinforces our desire to follow God (because really, who doesn't want peace, joy, and happiness?) and gives us a way to measure how well we're doing at that. If we're happy, we're probably doing alright. If we're not, there may be something we want to work on. Ultimately, I'm glad that God wants me to be happy and that He gave us guidelines that, if followed, will lead to eternal happiness. Ican't speak for the rest of you, but I know I have times when I could stand to be happier, and now I know both why that happens and what I can do about it.
The Blessing of the Lack Thereof
Yesterday, I blogged about blessings, and it occurred to me that even a lack of blessings can, itself, be a blessing, depending on one's perspective. Blessings are wonderful, but they don't tend to teach us a whole lot. Meanwhile, a lack of blessings can it teach us patience and other Christlike attributes, and it can encourage us to perform the necessary work of repentance. If we always got all the blessings we want, there wouldn't be much incentive to grow or change. Thus, God wisely withholds some blessings from us in order to give us something to strive for and a reason to strive for it. I've heard it said that God won't withhold any good thing from the faithful, but we're not always faithful, so God uses some blessings (and the lack thereof) to encourage us to be more faithful and more righteous. This encouragement can be important, even life-changing, so it makes a certain amount of sense to embrace it when it appears. Sure, it's more pleasant to receive blessings, but we're more likely to learn vital lessons when we don't.
Friday, May 3, 2019
No Better Blessings
There are times when the blessings God grants us are not completely what we'd like them to be. Sometimes, the blessings come at a cost, and we shudder to think of the price that was paid, or that must be paid, for those blessings. Some blessings come with caveats or qualifiers that make them somewhat less appealing than we had imagined them. God's blessings, great as they are, are seldom exactly what we wanted.
Still, God knows best, and He always does what's best for His children. The blessings He gives us are the best blessings we could be given in our situations. Whatever the prices are, God thinks they're worth paying, and whatever the qualifiers are, God thinks they're worth keeping. Sometimes, we may wish for better blessings, but that's because we don't actually know what's best for us. God does. And the blessings He gives us reflect His infinite wisdom, even if it sometimes seems like we could be receiving better blessings.
Still, God knows best, and He always does what's best for His children. The blessings He gives us are the best blessings we could be given in our situations. Whatever the prices are, God thinks they're worth paying, and whatever the qualifiers are, God thinks they're worth keeping. Sometimes, we may wish for better blessings, but that's because we don't actually know what's best for us. God does. And the blessings He gives us reflect His infinite wisdom, even if it sometimes seems like we could be receiving better blessings.
Thursday, May 2, 2019
Personal Scripture Pondering
When I restarted my personal scripture reading, I didn't commit to reading a certain number of verses every day, and I certainly didn't commit to reading a chapter every day. Instead, I started with a more manageable goal of reading a few verses until I found a spiritual thought worth pondering and then pondering on that thought for a minute or so. It's a lax goal that's easy to meet, but one that emphasizes what I consider to be the point of reading the scriptures in the first place.
The scriptures are full of messages. We could blaze past those messages in an attempt the read the whole book within a certain period of time. Alternatively, we could read the scriptures at a more leisurely pace, taking all the time we want with whatever insights we want to focus on.
Granted, with the later method, one should probably establish how much time one wishes to spend searching the scriptures and pondering whatever insights come up. Also, I'm not sure this method would be ideal for group study. I just know that it works for me. Additionally, I must admit that there are few wrong ways to study the scriptures, and following just about any method would be better than not reading the scriptures at all.
Still, however one reads the scriptures, I think it's important to think about them. They won't do us much good if we don't.
The scriptures are full of messages. We could blaze past those messages in an attempt the read the whole book within a certain period of time. Alternatively, we could read the scriptures at a more leisurely pace, taking all the time we want with whatever insights we want to focus on.
Granted, with the later method, one should probably establish how much time one wishes to spend searching the scriptures and pondering whatever insights come up. Also, I'm not sure this method would be ideal for group study. I just know that it works for me. Additionally, I must admit that there are few wrong ways to study the scriptures, and following just about any method would be better than not reading the scriptures at all.
Still, however one reads the scriptures, I think it's important to think about them. They won't do us much good if we don't.
Wednesday, May 1, 2019
The Optional Atonement
In the D&D game that I run at Comics and Collectibles, the party is currently on the hunt for a spell called Atonement, which they were told can magically compel an evil being to turn good.
Fortunately, the real Atonement, Christ's Atonement, doesn't work that way. God doesn't use compulsion. He encourages and urges us to make the right choices, and He offers us rewards for righteousness and warns us of the consequences of unrighteousness, but He only rarely offers people the ultimatum of "repent of perish," and He never, ever, actually forces anyone to repent. He would never force us to make a Wisdom Saving Throw to maintain control over our actions and keep our Alignment. He respects our agency too much to do anything like that.
I'm thankful for the Atonement, but I'm also thankful that we don't have to accept it. I'm glad that God respects us enough to make our own choices, even if those choices have dire consequence. Don't get me wrong; I'm glad that God loves us enough to encourage us to be righteous, but I'm also glad that He loves us enough to leave the choice up to us. I value my freedom. I'm glad that God values it, too.
Fortunately, the real Atonement, Christ's Atonement, doesn't work that way. God doesn't use compulsion. He encourages and urges us to make the right choices, and He offers us rewards for righteousness and warns us of the consequences of unrighteousness, but He only rarely offers people the ultimatum of "repent of perish," and He never, ever, actually forces anyone to repent. He would never force us to make a Wisdom Saving Throw to maintain control over our actions and keep our Alignment. He respects our agency too much to do anything like that.
I'm thankful for the Atonement, but I'm also thankful that we don't have to accept it. I'm glad that God respects us enough to make our own choices, even if those choices have dire consequence. Don't get me wrong; I'm glad that God loves us enough to encourage us to be righteous, but I'm also glad that He loves us enough to leave the choice up to us. I value my freedom. I'm glad that God values it, too.
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