An Heroic Example

For the past three months, I've been taking advantage of a free trial of Disney+. With it, I've watched the first seasons of The Mandalorian and Gargoyles. I've seen Monsters University, Frozen 2, and Toy Story 4. I've rewatched an old new favorite of mine, about which I've blogged over a dozen times, as well as several action-packed blockbusters, from Avatar to Star Wars. Yet, the movies I've loved the most have been the Marvel movies, especially those that focus on Captain America.

I like the Captain America movies, not just for the exciting actions scenes, but for the morality of the main character. I like watching Steve Rogers fight for a good cause because it helps encourage me to do the same. Sometimes, I'm called upon to do the right thing, and I don't want to do it. I sometimes get frustrated or bitter. I might grumble, or otherwise lose my temper. Yet, when I think about Captain America and his relentlessly upright example, I don't mind doing my part, doing my duty, and doing what's right.

Of course, there are better role models out there, including exactly one Perfect Example, but I find Captain America more easier to relate to in the same way that I relate to Paladins. It's hard to measure oneself against a perfect example. It's far easier to relate to an entirely human, but still very good, example.

Becoming like Jesus Christ is still my ultimate goal, and it always will be. But on my way to becoming exactly like Jesus Christ, I hope to become a bit more like Captain Steve Rogers.

We Need Experiences

Historically, a lot of my blog posts have been based on something interesting that happened to me recently. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) not a lot has happened in my life for the past few weeks. I suppose there's a lesson in that, too. In order to grow spiritually, we need experiences to learn from. That's a large part of why we came to earth. It's a place where we could live and have experiences that help us grow. Sure, a lot of those experiences are rough, but that's what makes them learning experiences. It's also why we couldn't have had those experiences in heaven and thus needed to come to earth.

We were sent to Earth to have experiences. Without those experiences, it's harder to grow and learn.

A Trial of Faith

One of the purposes of today's fast was "To pray that the hearts of people everywhere will be softened and turned toward the Lord in humility and that faith in Jesus Christ would increase on the earth." The thing is, in times of trial, it's sometimes the case that the opposite might happen. When people face great afflictions, they are tempted to wonder why a good God would allow such things to happen and even whether there is a good God up there at all. One would think that, if God were good, He would protect His children from hardships like this... if it was in our best interest for Him to do so.

Yet, because of the natural laws of this world, because we need to learn and grow in the face of opposition, and sometimes because of our own iniquities, we occasionally need to endure afflictions, and when those times come, we're much better off turning toward God than away from Him. He may or may not have been able to prevent this calamity without causing us greater harm, but He can certainly help us get through it. We need to trust that He has a plan and that His plan is motivated by what's best for everyone, even those affected by the current pandemic.

Some people will suffer greatly, even though they don't deserve it. That was part of the plan from the start; just ask Jesus Christ. But that doesn't change the fact that God's plan was, and is, the best plan possible, even if we don't see all the reasons behind every part of that plan. I trust that God knows what He's doing. To paraphrase a hymn, "[I] doubt not the Lord nor His goodness. [I've] proved Him in days that are past." Now it's His turn to prove us.

Personally, I know that He has a plan. And if His plan involves a global pandemic, so be it. I know that He knows and wants what's best for us, even if that's not what we want for ourselves. I trust Him. I just hope that I trust Him enough to continue to trust Him if/when this situation gets worse.

Fasting for Others

At the start of the week, I received an email from the North America West Area Presidency of the church, which included the following message:

Sunday, March 29, 2020, is a fast Sunday. It is also the weekend just prior to April general conference. As an Area Presidency, we invite you to join us in a special day of fasting and mighty prayer. The purpose of this fast is five-fold: 

1. To ask the Lord to bless and inspire our Church and government leaders and their efforts to protect the health and well-being of all people and to find solutions to address the challenges we are facing in all nations. 

2. To pray for all those who are suffering the physical, emotional, and economic impact of COVID-19, that they will be blessed according to their needs. 

3. To pray that the hearts of people everywhere will be softened and turned toward the Lord in humility and that faith in Jesus Christ will increase on the earth. 

4. To pray for spiritual strength to overcome fear and anxiety, for inspiration to protect ourselves and our families, and for the awareness and ability to minister to those in need. 

5. To pray for increased understanding and personal revelation in preparation for general conference and the prophetic guidance and messages regarding the bicentennial of the Restoration.

I normally don't appreciate being told what to fast for. I have my own needs to fast for. But this time, I have to admit that, in this case, others' needs are more important than mine. This situation, while perhaps not the most serious plague in recorded history, is certainly dire enough for me to put my own needs and wants on hold for a while so others will be better protected. I'd like to think that, in certain situations, I would be the kind of person who would go out of his way to help ensure that others will be safe. This is my opportunity to prove it.

So, I'm staying inside. I'm washing my hands longer than usual. And I'm willing to go without some non-essential things for the next few weeks and months. And I'm fasting for the sake of others instead of myself. I need certain blessings, but there are others who need blessings more. All-in-all, I don't think we're being asked to make a great sacrifice. Maybe it's a bigger sacrifice for some people than for others, and each person needs to make their own decisions, but it doesn't seem like too great a sacrifice for me. I'm willing to self-quarantine and skip a few meals if it might help some people. And if we're all willing to make that much of a sacrifice, then together we can help a lot of people.

Justice in a Lawless Land

There's a game, I forgot its title, where the player plays as a judge living in a country that has just experienced a revolution. The old ruler has been overthrown, and the new rules have yet to be established. The player's job is to lay down the law at a time and place where there is no law. The player must judge, by their own moral code, what is right, what is wrong, who should be punished, and how severely.

Personally, I hope I never find myself in such a situation. I try not to judge others in general, but when I have to, I would rather fall back on established laws. Who am I to judge others? How do I balance justice and mercy? How well do I know and trust my own moral code? How easily would my mind be swayed by those with different opinions than mine? If I had to judge another person, with no laws to judge them by, how well would I do?

Fortunately, I don't think I'll ever end up in that situation. Even if I do become a judge of some kind, God has established several clear, moral rules for us to follow and for us to use to measure the morality of our own actions and, potentially, others, when such judgments are necessary. Even if I ever have to judge someone, I will never have to judge them based solely on my own moral compass. In the absence of any other laws, I can use God's. I will never have to mete out justice in a lawless land, because, thanks to God's laws, there is no such place.

Wrestling With God

This evening, my family and I discussed the wrestle that Enos had before God and the other righteous individuals who also wrestled with God or struggled with Him in some way, and when we talked about how odd it was that these righteous people had wrestled or struggled with God, I noted that fighting with someone doesn't always mean fighting against them. Sometimes, you're both fighting on the same side.

I imagine many of these instances as being metaphysical struggles, like how we might struggle with a difficult concept, how we might struggle to accept a difficult truth, or how we might struggle to resist temptation. In all these cases, God can struggle with us, not trying to stop us, but trying to help us.

"For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places." Ephesians 6:12 And when we put of the Armor of God, we invite Him to wrestle against them with us.

Standing By

This week and last week, I've been working from home. Well, I say that, but that's kind of only true when I have appointments. When no students have signed up for tutoring appointments with me, all I can really do is sit at my computer, watch it like a hawk, and hope that somebody signs up for an appointment at the last minute. When I have a student, I help that student. When I don't, I spend that time standing by.

I wonder how much time God spends standing by, waiting for us to pray for His help. Naturally, we usually ask for His help at least daily, or at least, we should. But how often do we get more specific than that? I don't normally pray for His help with my homework. I rarely pray for His help with my work. I never pray for His help in preparing, running, or playing D&D. Maybe I should. Maybe I should pray for His help more often, and maybe I should pray for His help with more things.

Granted, I'm sure He's got plenty to do. He's certainly not twiddling his thumbs, waiting for me to pray to Him. I'm sure He's helping lots of people at all times. But, time works differently for Him, and I'd be surprised if He couldn't help everyone on earth simultaneously. Often, we just need to ask Him, and He'll be there, ready to help.

God can help you, at any time, with anything. So, if there's ever a time when He's not helping you with something, He's probably standing by, waiting for you to ask.

Body and Spirit

In studying Hinduism for my World Religions class, I was reminded that I have a spirit. This isn't news to me, but, being human, I often forget it. I tend to think of myself as a singular being, not as a dual being or a being with two parts. When I say "I am tired," I usually don't think much more about it than that, but what I really mean is that my body and/or my brain is tired. My spirit doesn't necessarily have that kind of limitation. My spirit is just as eternal and limitless as the Holy Spirit upon which I rely for help. In my last blog post, I said that, since we're fighting an enemy who has no physical limitations, we need the help of allies who also have no physical limitations. Little did I realize that at least some of that help could come from within.

I don't know whether or not my spirit is at all subject to physical limitations. I don't think it can travel outside my body or recall information from before my birth. I don't know whether or not my spirit needs to sleep. I know that my conscious mind and physical body have such limitations, but I don't know if my spirit does. It could be that my spirit has every ability and advantage that I thought the adversary has over me. If my spirit is just as powerful as that of the adversary, then that means that I am, too.

It's true that the enemy has some advantages and abilities that my physical body doesn't have, but perhaps my immortal, immaterial soul can make up for my body's weaknesses. I am more than just my body. I am a body and a spirit. And together, it may be that I have every ability and advantage as the adversary has, and then some.

Fighting on Both Sides

In a recent prayer, I acknowledged that I can't win my spiritual battles without God's help. Shortly thereafter, He reminded me that He can't win those battles without my help. We can't win the war for our souls without His help, but at the same time, He can't win those fights for us. We both need to fight, or we will certainly lose.

Let's start, as I did, with an acknowledgement that we can't win without God's help. This fight is too hard for almost any mortal, and the only reason I included the word "almost" was because Jesus Christ managed, yet, arguably, He might have needed God's help, too. There are instances in the scriptures where angels ministered to Christ. If He ever needed celestial assistance, we certainly do. 

We fight an enemy that we could never hope to defeat with our mortal limitations. We get tired; he doesn't. We sleep; he doesn't. We have only one human lifetime of experience to consciously recall and draw upon; he doesn't. We are fighting an enemy who doesn't have physical limitations. It might help if we had some allies who don't have physical limitations either. If we are going to win this fight, we will need God, or at least a few angels, to fight alongside us.

But just as we need God's help, He also needs ours. He can't win these battles for us. That would likely defeat the purpose of why we face these battles in the first place. We need to fight the adversary as part of our mortal experience. We need to face opposition and temptation and learn how to overcome them. We need to learn to control ourselves. That's not something God can do for us. God can help us learn those lessons, but we need to put in some effort as well. God will help us fight our battles, but He needs us to keep fighting as well.

If we are going to win this fight, it'll be through fighting on both sides of the veil. If we keep fighting on our side of the veil, and God keeps fighting for us on His, then it's possible for us to win, but if we try to face this fight without His help, or if we give up the fight, hoping He'll carry us, we'll lose. Our spiritual lives depend on us winning this fight, but it'll take fighting on both sides of the veil to make that happen.

Year of the Warrior

When I called this the Year of Ascension or the year of drawing closer to God, I strongly considered switching goals entirely and calling this the Year of the Warrior. I am locked in a life-long battle with the adversary, and it's shaping out to be a difficult and taxing war. There are times when I feel weak and/or frustrated, and I am strongly tempted to give up the fight. Yet, I know how important it is to keep on fighting, regardless of any losses or difficulties, no matter the cost. I need to be a warrior. Sure, this battle is on a spiritual, rather than physical, battlefield, and Pray, Hymns, and Meditation are part of how I fight, but I think it's important for me to remind myself that this is an actual fight, just as real as the earth itself is, and far more important. I am fighting for my life, but my eternal life rather than my mortal life, and just as in a physical fight for my life, I can't afford to give up, no matter the cost. There's too much at stake. I need to be a warrior. I need to remind myself to be a warrior.

Thank Goodness or God?

I'm sometimes torn between saying "Thank Goodness" and saying "Thank God." On the one hand, I want to give credit where credit is due. God is, ultimately, the source of all of our blessings, and we should thank Him for them. But on the other hand, I don't want to say God's name too often. When Mom and I discussed this this morning, we came to the conclusion that what matters is the speaker's intention. If the speaker is actually thanking God or encouraging others to do so, than "Thank God" makes sense. If the speaker actually means something more along the lines of "that's nice," maybe "Thank Goodness" would be a better choice, out of respect for God. It is good to thank God for our blessings, but it is not good to say "Thank God" casually.

Counting Blessings Amid a Pandemic

So, this whole Coronavirus situation kind of stinks, right? A lot of people are getting sick. Some people are dying. And it's just super inconvenient for everybody, what with having to get into a mile-long line at the crack of dawn if you want a chance of being able to buy toilet paper. But you know what? We're actually pretty lucky.

We have a lot of advantages our ancestors didn't have. We, most of us, have comfortable, secure, sanitary shelters to bunker down in. We who can read this have access to the Internet, the instant-speed, global communication network that can keep the whole world in touch and entertained. And we as a species have some of the, if not the, best medical scientists in the history of the world working on treatment, prevention, and a cure. We're doing alright.

Sure, we're going through a rough patch, and no one can say exactly how long that rough patch will last or how bad it's going to get, but when we consider our blessings along with our afflictions, we're actually still doing okay. It shouldn't take a plague to make us realize how richly blessed we are, and it should take more than a plague to make us forget it. Plague or no plague, we're a lot more blessed than our ancestors have been. Heck, we're a lot more blessed than many of our brothers and sisters are now. Let's try to remember our blessings and to keep our trials in perspective. Of course, I'm not the greatest at this, but we should all work on it. It's important to count our blessings, especially in times of trials like this.

Year of Ascension

On January 26th of the current year, a YouTube channel called CGP Grey released a video about New Year's Resolutions and a proposed alternative which they called "Your Theme." Upon watching that video this morning, I realized that my New Year's Resolution could use some revisiting, if not some revising, and this video provided a good lens through which to review and reevaluate my goal of Prayer, Hymns, and Meditation.

Essentially, CGP Grey argued that numeric goals are arbitrary and unyielding, and they fail to account for the changes that will inevitably occur in the unforeseeable future. For instance, I set a goal to meditate at least once per week. I don't know if I have kept that up faithfully, but in a way, that doesn't matter. The real goal was to draw closer to God. Meditating weekly was just a method by which I hoped to draw closer to God. If, at the end of the year, I'm closer to God than at the beginning, I succeeded at my goal, no matter how frequently (or infrequently) I meditated.

Prayer, Hymns, and Meditation are good tools I can use to help me get closer to God, and I'll certainly use them for that, but I won't use them as measuring sticks to evaluate whether or not I reached my goal. My ultimate goal is to get closer to God. Whatever I do or don't do to make that happen doesn't matter so long as it works. This is my year of drawing closer to God, or, to put it in the same format as CGP Grey's "themes," my year of ascension. I am going to raise my spirit closer to God regardless of whether or not I use prayer, hymns, and meditation to do it.

The Goal Is In (His) Sight

The final verse of Do What Is Right urges us to "Do what is right; be faithful and fearless.
Onward, press onward, the goal is in sight." Yet, our goal of Eternal Life is a lofty one, one of which we mortals easily lose sight. Caught up as we are with our day-to-day lives and whatever mortal afflictions trouble us at the moment, we sometimes forget the big picture of why we have mortal lives in the first place. And even when we remember who we are and what we're striving for, sons and daughters of God striving for eternal perfection, that goal can seem so lofty and distant that it seems impractical to spend much thought on it. After all, it hardly makes sense to figure out how one will climb a given mountain when the foot of the mountain is still hundreds of miles away, right? We'll cross that bridge when we get there. Why think about a mountain when we're not even close to it? But remaining focused on that mountain is the only way to get close to it. To reach our ultimate destination, we have to think impossibly far ahead.

Thankfully, we don't have to do that alone. God can help keep us on the path back to Him, partly because that path is always fresh in His mind. We might forget why we're on Earth and where we're trying to go, but God doesn't. Our distance from that celestial mountain may cause us to lose sight of it, but our goal is always in God's sight, and He is constantly trying to lead us to it.

So if we ever lose sight of why we're here and where we're going, we can take comfort in knowing that He won't. He can always guide us toward our ultimate goal, and as long as we continually follow Him, we will eventually reach it, no matter how long it takes for us to get there. There are times when we feel that we have lost our path and strayed impossibly far away, but no matter how far we are away from that celestial mountain, God has a plan to get us there. He has our goal constantly in His sights, and He knows the path we need to follow to get to it. We may only be able to focus on one step at a time, but as we follow God, He can make sure those steps are getting us closer to where we ultimately want to be. We may or may not be able to keep our goal in our sights, but we can trust God's guidance, knowing that the goal is always in His.

Let the Consequence Follow

The chorus of the hymn Do What Is Right begins with the lines "Do what is right; let the consequence follow." The funny thing about consequences is that the word has a negative connotation, but it's actually neutral. There are such things as positive consequences, and there especially are good consequences for doing what's right, namely blessings, including Eternal Life. Blessings are "consequences" that make doing what's right worthwhile.

Of course, there can be negative consequences for doing what's right as well. It can be an unpopular practice. One may be stigmatized, and perhaps even persecuted, for doing what's right. Countless people have been killed for doing what they believed was right.

But (and I hope I'm not being too crass here) so what? Death isn't actually all that bad, especially for someone who died for doing what's right. Those who are righteous, and especially those who die for being righteous, are blessed by God. God's blessings far outweigh the world's punishments.

So, even if a person is persecuted, tortured, and killed for doing what's right, they'll be far more blessed for doing so than they would be for not doing so. The world may throw everything it has at you, but if you stay faithful, God will give everything He has to you, and God has a lot more than the world has, including the world itself. So do what is right, and let the consequences follow. Some of them may be painful, but some of them will be wonderful, and overall, the positive consequences will far outweigh the negative ones.

Changing Identity by Changing Behavior

I've said before on my blog that "You are the kind of person who does the things you do." This means that if you paint, then you are the kind of person who paints, a painter. If you dance, you are the kind of person who dances, a dancer. If you run games of D&D, then you are the kind of person who runs games of D&D, a DM. Our identities are based, at least in part, on our behavior. If that's true, that means our identities are changeable - at least as changeable as our behavior.

For example, say that I smoked. If I smoked, then I would be the kind of person who smokes, a smoker. Yet, no one is born a smoker, and many of the people who become smokers eventually quit and stop being smokers. Being a smoker is not a permanent part of anyone's central identity. The trait of being a smoker is as changeable as the habit of smoking is. When you quit smoking, you stop being a smoker.

Of course, that's easier said than done, and that might not even be true with all habits. A drinker can, with a considerable amount of effort, stop drinking and thus stop being a drinker, but they may still be an alcoholic. Even after quitting, the ex-drinker may have a vulnerability that further exposure to alcohol would exploit. That would be a more lasting part of their identity, still not permanent, but longer-lasting than even a deeply-ingrained habit.

Still, for many aspects of our identities, we can change them as easily as we change our behavior. We can change some parts of who we are as easily as we can change what we do. If a person grows tired of being a painter, they can stop being a painter when they stop painting. I don't know why a person would want to stop being a painter, but that's just an example. Any part of our identities that are based on our actions or habits can be changed as easily as our actions and habits themselves can.

If we are what we do, and if we want to change who we are, we can start by changing what we do.

Rejoicing, Despite the Cost

In the hymn Dear to the Heart of the Shepherd, the second half of the second verse reads "See, the Good Shepherd is seeking, Seeking the lambs that are lost, Bringing them in with rejoicing, Saved at such infinite cost." When I sang this hymn the other day, it reminded me that Jesus rejoices when we repent, despite, or perhaps in part because of, the infinite cost He had to pay to make it possible.

I imagine that the whole human condition, of growth and setbacks, of sin and repentance, must be bittersweet to Him. On the one hand, it must be encouraging to see us progress, but on the other hand, it must hurt to watch us struggle. On one hand, He loves to help us become clean of our sins, but on the other hand, we caused Him a great deal of pain when we committed those sins.

Yet, it seems that Jesus focuses more on the positive side than on the negative side. He loves it when we repent, even though He had to experience great pain to make that repentance possible. In fact, that suffering He experienced might make Him even more eager for us to repent. He'd hate for all that suffering to ultimately have been in vain. Plus, He loves us and wants us to follow the path toward happiness, regardless of how much pain He had to go through to open up that path.

Personally, I'm sorry that He had to suffer to try to save sinners like me. If it were up to me, I would have saved Jesus some unjust suffering and I would have left myself to whatever fate I deserve. Yet, despite my wishes, the price of my undeserved redemption has already been paid. Jesus has already paid the infinite cost to bring me home. At this point, the best thing I can do for Him is to not waste the gift His suffering bought for me. I can't spare Him the pain He already experienced. All I can do now is make sure I repent, so my salvation can, in His mind, have been worth the cost.

Should Mike Have Left Monsters University?

This morning, I finally watched Monsters University, the prequel to Monsters, Inc., and I was surprised to find that it has a sociological message that is either true and important or dangerously false, and I'm still not entirely sure which it is. In Monsters University, the irrepressible Mike Wazowski tenaciously pursues his dream of becoming a Scarer, but while he absolutely masters the theory of scaring, he repeatedly faces setbacks when trying to apply the practice of scaring. Throughout the movie, even at the end, he is told that he can never be a Scarer because he, simply, just isn't scary.

I take umbrage with this assessment for several reasons. Firstly, scariness is subjective. That which isn't scary to one person may be horrifying to another. The movie even points this out by mentioning the fear of chopsticks (Consecotaleophobia) which is, apparently, a real phobia that some people have. Most people aren't scared of chopsticks, but it would seem that some people are. Most monsters aren't scared of Mike Wazowski, but maybe some humans would be. Granted, Mike is a round, green creature with a single, large eye, and roundness, big eyes, and the color green tend to put people at ease, but if people can be afraid of chopsticks, there must be people who are afraid of round, green things with big eyes, like ommetaphobiacs and scopophobiacs, for example.

Second (and more importantly for the purpose of this blog post), even without any natural scariness, Mike can (and arguably does) become scary over a long period of study and practice. He uses his knowledge of the human psyche to identify and exploit weaknesses, and he uses his claws to make an intimidating scratching sound to drive up tension, without having to show his supposedly unintimidating face. I am certain that, given enough time, Mike could drive a person close enough to the edge of terror that any startling apparition, even something as cute as a kitten, could drive a person to produce a decent amount of Scream.

That's where I think this movie goes dangerously wrong: it suggests that a person without a natural talent for a given skill will never gain proficiency, let alone excellence, with that skill, which is patently false. There are many people who are great at their chosen skills specifically because they trained hard and worked hard to overcome weaknesses in those areas. I hope to become one of those people someday.

However, this movie's message is admittedly, importantly true in the area of physical limitations. I cannot fly, and no amount of training and practice can change that fact. Sure, I could learn to pilot an aircraft, but that's the skill of operating a machine that can fly. Without such a machine, I personally cannot fly, and it would be foolish of me to invest a good deal of time and energy into trying to learn how to fly. There are many physical limitations that people cannot overcome, and this is especially true for people with disabilities. Certainly, people can practice skills to help them overcome their limitations, like how learning to pilot an aircraft can help someone overcome the limitation of gravity, but no amount of training will allow an unaided human being to fly, and accepting that fact can save people a good deal of time and frustration. If scaring others was physically impossible for Mike Wazowski, then his detractors would have been right in encouraging him to seek a different path.

That's why I can't nail down whether the message "You can't do this; give up" is true or false. It depends on the situation. In general, I'd say that the message is usually false, especially if we allow for the use of tools and machines, but if what a person is attempting is literally impossible, they'd be better off applying their efforts elsewhere.

In Mike's case, despite the movie's conclusion, I don't think he should have given up his dream of becoming a Scarer. True, he made a better Scaring Coach than a Scarer, but he could have been a decent Scarer too. There was no physical limitation that made it physically impossible to scare people. He could have succeeded, and, in my opinion, he nearly did. Some people probably should give up on impossible dreams, but Mike's dream wasn't impossible, and I think he shouldn't've quit.

Fore-giveness

I recently watched a talk that included the concept of fore-giveness, which if I understand it correctly, means forgiving others for wrongs that haven't happened yet.

I wonder if that's possible. Can we forgive wrongdoings that have yet to be done? I don't know. But I do know that we can prepare to forgive others for the wrongs that we know that they will eventually do.

We can develop a love and compassion for them that transcends their present and future actions. We can acknowledge that everyone is human and that everyone has made, is making, and will make bad decisions. Everyone, even our loved ones, will do bad things, even to us. We may not be able to preemptively forgive specific future wrongdoings, just was we can't preemptively repent of them, but we can preemptively decide to continue to love them, no matter what they do.

Granted, love does not always equate to forgiveness, and forgiveness certainly doesn't equate to condoning. But God does ask us to love everyone and forgive everyone, perhaps even for wrongs that have yet to be committed.

Self-Compassion

I recently heard mention of a book titled Self-Compassion. Judging by the title alone, I can guess that the book is about the idea of having compassion for oneself. This almost sounds like a contradiction to me. Compassion is a feeling that is only expressed towards others, isn't it? But I suppose that, with a strong enough imagination, one can make an "other" of oneself. That is, one can imagine a stranger with the exact same qualities as oneself. If this is the case, than I suppose that a person can imagine oneself as a fictional "other" and then have compassion for that "other person."

The purpose of even trying to have compassion for an "othered" version of oneself is to develop compassion for one's actual self. We are often our own worst critics. We tend to be harder on ourselves than we are on anyone else. We should treat ourselves better than that. We deserve to be treated better than that by ourselves. We deserve the peace of knowing that we're on our own side and that we've got our own backs. We should have empathy for ourselves, if only because we know exactly what we've been through and we're probably the only people on Earth who truly do.

If for no other reason, we should have compassion on ourselves because Jesus Christ, our Exemplar, has compassion on us. God loves us, so we should love ourselves as well, not in a self-centered sort of way, but in a self-compassionate sort of way. We should forgive ourselves as readily as Christ forgives us. We should love ourselves just as God loves us. Jesus Christ has commanded us to "love thy neighbor as thyself" and to "love one another as I [Jesus] have loved you." He's basically telling us to love our neighbors just as much as we love ourselves and to love our neighbors just as much as He loves us. The love we have for ourselves should be just as great as the love we have for others, which should be just as great as the love Jesus has for us, which is infinite. We should have infinite love for everyone, including ourselves, and some of that love should manifest as compassion.

God wants us to feel love and compassion for ourselves, and who am I to disobey God? I should have compassion for myself, if only because that's what God wants for me.

Unity vs Division

I heard a talk recently (I think it was by M. Russell Ballard), and the main point I took away from that talk is that we should focus more on the larger identities that unify us than the smaller identities that divide us. For example, being an American is more important than being a Republican or Democrat, being a human being is more important than being an American, and being a Child of God is more important than anything else. Sure, we could divide ourselves into increasingly narrow and exclusive groups and form bitter rivalries with members of other groups, and we often do, but it would be better to focus on the traits we all have in common so we can better relate to each other and work together better. We don't need to divide ourselves from each other according to race, gender, orientation, political persuasion, or socioeconomic class. Instead, we can find common ground as human beings and children of God and work together instead of driving each other apart.

Too Much Charity?

I had a thought recently, wondering whether it's possible to have too much charity, and the answer I came to is that it depends. If we're talking about charity as the pure love of Christ, then the answer is no. We can neither give nor receive too much Christlike love. However, if we're talking about charitably giving our time and resources to those in need, the answer becomes a maybe. I believe that it's possible to both give an receive too much charity.

We give too much charity if we burn ourselves out by doing so. Speaking from personal experience, it's certainly possible to give up too much of one's time to others. I imagine that it's possible to give up too much of one's resources as well. If you charitably give away resources you can't afford to lose, that's not just incredibly generous; it can also be dangerously foolish. If you have excess, feel free to contribute, but please don't give away time or resources you need for yourself.

Even on the receiving end of charity, it's possible to overdo it. I am occasionally alarmed at how much money panhandlers reportedly can make. That much generosity encourages inactivity and discourages productive, soul-affirming work. Of course, it's good to give generously when there is a genuine need, but we don't want to foster dependence on that generosity. Those who could are content to rely on charity, when they could otherwise work for their living, miss out on opportunities to improve themselves and their society.

When we have time and resources that we can safely spare, and when others have a genuine need for that charity, we should give generously, but when they don't really need what we can offer them and we can't really spare it anyway, perhaps it would be better if we didn't.

Don't Do What You Think Is Wrong

I believe that people should do what they think is right, and, adjacent to that belief, I believe that they should also not do what they believe is wrong. Case in point: There's nothing wrong with eating pork. It's not against the Word of Wisdom. It's not a sin. Apart from the moral concerns a person may have about eating meat in general, there's nothing especially bad about eating pork, specifically.

Yet, for some people, there is. For Jews and Muslims, it is (if I'm not mistaken) morally wrong to eat pork, and I believe that, yes, it would be morally wrong for them to eat pork, even if it's not morally wrong for me to. We all have to live by the light that we have, and if the light that you follow tells you not to eat pork, then you shouldn't do it.

Of course, one might argue that some lights are better than others, that we should follow this light instead of that one, and that there is one light that is better than all others, perhaps even perfect. Perhaps, ideally, we should all follow that best light instead of any other, and we should all abide by its rules instead of any others, but we don't live in an ideal world. We live in a real world. And in this world, people have different lights, and it's difficult to judge which light is best, especially since just about everyone seems to believe that the light they follow is the best. Given that there's no clear consensus on which light is best, we all just have to do the best we can with however much light we have. And if the best light you have tells you to obey rules that other lights tell you not to worry about, go with the best light you have.

So, it might be okay for me to eat pork and other meat, and it might be okay for me to not fast during Ramadan and never visit Mecca or observe the Passover, and it's certainly okay for me to celebrate holidays and birthdays, but if your religion has different rules about such things, I think you should follow them. If you're a Christian, be the best Christian you can be. If you're a Muslim, be the best Muslim you can be. Same with Jews and Hindus and Taoists and all other religions. I think that people should follow whatever light they have as closely as they can, even when that means refraining from things that aren't actually sinful.

The Narrow Gate and the Strait Path

Our Come, Follow Me lesson for this last week has included a lot of talk about the gate we need to enter and the path we need to follow in order to gain salvation, and one thing that struck me is how narrow it seems to be. There are hoops that everyone needs to jump through. No matter who they are, mo matter where or when they were born, every person needs to be baptized by proper Priesthood authority. Not everyone has that chance in life, which is a large part of the reason why we have temples, but it still strikes me how specific the path is, especially considering how different different people and cultures can be. I would prefer to believe that there are many paths to salvation, just as there are many paths to any physical location, but that's not how that works. We all need to be baptized, and we all need to follow the same gospel from there. As restrictive as it is, that is the way it is. There's really only one way to get to heaven. We're just lucky God told us what that way is. Now it's up to each and every one of us to follow it.

Warding Bond

Another piece of D&D magic my new CTR ring reminds me of (I got a new CTR ring, by the way. I forgot to mention that last night) is Warding Bond. Warding Bond is a 2nd Level Abjuration Spell that requires two platinum rings (worth at least 50gp apiece) to be worn both by the caster of the spell and by the creature to be warded. The warded creature gains a +1 bonus to its Armor Class and Saving Throws, and it gains resistance to all forms of damage. This means that the creature is more difficult to hurt and that, even when the creature gets hurt, it only hurts half as much as it should. However, this spell has a serious drawback for the caster. Whenever the warded creature takes damage, the caster of the Warding Bond takes that much damage as well. The caster can protect a creature from a great deal of harm, but only by taking that harm upon themselves.

This analogy is powerful to me because of how it reflects the way in which Christ protects me. He took on the penalty of my sins. He suffered that punishment so I wouldn't have to. He bore every pain I would ever experience so He could spare me from some of that pain. Jesus Christ is helping me at great personal cost to Himself, and every time I sin, I make that cost greater. Every time I take spiritual damage and suffer spiritual death, Christ suffers with me. My new CTR ring is a reminder that I am not the only person who suffers the consequences of my actions. Jesus suffers, too, and I don't want Him to.

With Warding Bond, the warded creature can end the spell by removing the platinum ring they have to wear as part of the spell. I don't have that luxury. My ring is just a reminder of the bond that already existed long before I put it on. I can remove the ring, but that won't stop Jesus from suffering for my sins. The only way I can stop Jesus from suffering for my sins is by not committing them. I can't stop Jesus from carrying my burden, so the best I can hope for is to stop making it heavier.

I am amazed and humbled by the love Jesus must have for me to be willing to suffer the penalty of my sins. The pain I put Him through is unimaginable. Jesus suffered so much for my sake and for the sake of all of humankind, I don't think any mortal being could have survived all that suffering. Yet, He suffered it, for all our sakes. He endured that suffering so we wouldn't have to, and in doing so, He saved us all. He created a bond between our souls and His that allows Him to suffer for our sakes and in our stead. I can't imagine the pain He endured to help us, and I can't imagine trying to go through life without that help. I need all the help Jesus can offer me. I just wish that help didn't come at such a great cost to Him.

Selective Mind Shielding

In D&D, there's a magic item called a Ring of Mind Shielding, which allows the wearer to block telepathic communication. While a person is wearing such a ring, they can effectively shut everyone else out of their mind. Yet, they don't have to shut everyone out of their mind. They can still allow some telepathic communication to occur, if they choose to. The Ring of Mind Shielding has other uses, too, but the control over telepathy is the one I want to focus on, because that's an ability that we all already have.

No one on earth actually has the power of telepathy, but we frequently receive mental communication from other sources. There are countless spirits that send us mental messages as often as they can. Some of them are good and prompt us to do good things, and some of them are evil and prompt us to do evil things. Yet, we choose which spirits to listen to. We can shut the evil spirits out of our mind. But that doesn't mean we need to shut all spirits out. We can choose which spirits get to send us messages and which ones don't. Through the help of the Holy Ghost and a good deal of will-power, we can shield our minds from the temptations of the adversary while still accepting communication from the Holy Ghost.

I am grateful that we all have the ability to block out the adversary, and I'm especially glad that we don't also have to block out the Holy Ghost while we're at it. We need the guidance of the Holy Ghost, and we need that guidance to continue, even while we shield our minds from the adversary.

"The Real War"

In Disney's The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Captain Phoebus was surprised to be called upon to help Judge Claude Frollo rid Paris of gypsies. In his surprise, Captain Phoebus asked, "I was summoned from the wars to capture fortune-tellers and palm readers?" at which Frollo gestured down at the city and responded, "The real war, captain, is what you see before you."

Frollo was partly right. From our mortal perspective, the physical world can seem far more real than the spiritual world, yet, from an eternal perspective, the physical world lasts only for a brief moment on the eternal timeline. The battle for souls began before the physical world was created, and it'll last until after the world as we know it ceases to exist. If the gypsies really were threatening the souls of the denizens of Paris, as Frollo believed they were, that would be at least as great a concern as a physical war. Physical wars primarily destroy bodies, which we are all going to lose and regain anyway. The spiritual war can have much longer-lasting effects.

Of course, Phoebus was partly right, too, but not for the reasons he thought. No war is purely physical. In addition to the physical damage wars cause, they can also cause tremendous emotional, psychological, and spiritual harm. If the gypsies truly were harmless, as Captain Phoebus suspected, then it would be much more important for him to stop the physical wars than it would be to stop the gypsies.

But for most of us, our day-to-day lives don't involve physical battles. Instead, we fight spiritual battles that are just as real as battles in the physical world. We regularly fight in the war for souls, and regardless of Captain Phoebus' opinions, it is of vital importance that we will win it.

Praying Regularly

We've been studying Islam in my World Religions class, and I've got to say, there are several things I like about Islamic teachings and practices, and I may even try adopting one or two of them, particularly the Salat, the practice of praying at five specific times each day.

One of the Five Pillars of the Muslim faith is the practice of praying when they wake up, at noon, in the mid-afternoon, at sundown, and when they go to bed. Naturally, we are supposed to pray at some of those times, too. Heck, we're supposed to "pray always," but I think that having a few specific times set aside for prayer can help us to remember to actually pray at those times and to make those prayers fairly special.

There was a time when I used to wear a watch with an hourly chime, and I made a mental note to say a quick, silent prayer whenever I heard that chime. That didn't happen every hour, but that was the idea.

Praying frequently and regularly is a more specific and measurable goal than the nebulous goal of praying always. Of course, we should always try to have a prayer in our hearts, but I don't see the harm in setting aside a few specific times for prayer as well.

The Upside of Driving a Truck

When my friend told me that he had to go help his grandmother move, I said "I guess that's the downside of driving a truck; people expect you to move things for them," but he rightly corrected me, saying, "What are you talking about? Helping people is a good thing."

Of course, he was right. And if helping people is a good thing, then having the ability to help people is also a good thing. I sometimes forget that, because I know that, with the ability to help comes the responsibility to help, and I'm not overly fond of having lots of responsibilities.

But those responsibilities are also opportunities. When we do what's right, including helping others, God blesses us. And I could really use those blessings. So maybe I shouldn't have such a negative attitude about having the responsibility to help others. God expects us to do as much good as we can, and when we do, God gives us as many blessings as we need. I need blessings, so I should seek out the ability, even the responsibility, to help.

Dropping Plot Hooks

As a DM, one of my challenges is to get the players to follow the plot that I had planned. I plan monsters for them to fight, treasure for them to find, people for them to help, and experiences for them to have, but none of that planning does any good if the players don't fight those monsters, find that treasure, help those people, or have those experiences. The game takes initiative on their part (no pun intended), and they need to know how to take a hint.

Of course, I can't be too hard on them for not picking up on obvious plot threads. After all, I didn't.

Last Saturday, I went to my local comic book shop to participate in some foam sword fighting outside and to hang out with my brother and a friend of mine, but I didn't do hardly any of those things. I participated in a few practice fights, then got intimidated by the other fighters' skill, and chose to just watch after that. My brother joined in the fighting, and I watched him for a while, but then I went inside to hang out with my friend. Unfortunately, my friend couldn't stay long because he had to go help his grandmother move some boxes. It wasn't until I was already on my way home that I realized that I should have volunteered to help him. My "How can I help?" reflex must be very rusty from disuse.

I didn't fight with foam swords. I didn't do any service. I didn't do much of anything.

God gives us plenty of opportunities to have fun experiences, to learn, and to do good. Yet, all the opportunities in the world won't do us any good if we don't take advantage of them. We have to actually go and have those experiences, learn those lessons, and do some good, or all of that planning on God's part will be wasted.

I don't want to waste God's planning time, and I don't want to miss out on the experiences He has planned for me. Last Saturday could have been a lot of fun, if I had followed the plot hooks that God so obviously laid out for me. Next time, I'm going to try not to drop them.

A Thin, Black Belt

When I go to church, I wear the same white shirt and tie combo that most guys wear. I don't wear a suit, like some men do, though I do wear a sweater sometimes. I wear black shoes and socks and a black belt, as you might expect from men's formal attire. What I wear that's different from most other men is tan pants. Most men wear dark pants, but I prefer khakis. The result is that, between my white shirt and my light-colored pants, my black belt stands in stark contrast. And this morning, that contrast started to take on a special meaning for me.

Black can symbolize a lot of things, most of which are negative. Black can represent darkness. The idea of having a black mark on one's record comes to mind. And having a black heart is certainly bad. As I looked at my belt in this light, it cam to represent something dark and evil. Fortunately, sandwiched as it was between my white shirt and my light brown pants, my black belt also looked fairly thin.

Life is short, eternally speaking. I've heard it said that if you took an infinitely long length of rope and tied a thin thread around one point on that rope, that rope could represent our entire eternal lifetime, and that tiny thread could be the time we spent in mortality. And if I had any say in it, that thread would be black.

Mortality has a lot of darkness in it. First, there's the darkness of ignorance. There's a lot we don't know our remember about the world we live in and our place in it. There's the darkness of imperfection. Compared to where we came from and where we're going, both of which as places of great light, the mortal world is horribly dark. And of course, there's the darkness of sin.

But none of that darkness has to last very long. We can slowly regain knowledge, and our knowledge will eventually be fully restored. The earth will be transformed into a heavenly paradise, before or after we leave it to return to ours. And sin doesn't need to stain our souls permanently, either. Everything that is dark about this world can some day be extinguished and turned into light, and then we can live in that light for an eternity, just like we did before.

That thin, black belt has, to me, come to represent our brief moment in mortality at one point in our eternal lifetimes. It's dark, but it's also short, and we can take comfort in knowing that it both was preceded by and may be followed by a glorious eternity of light.