Originally, the meaning of the French word ‘foyer’ was the center or focus of the home, its heart and hearth. While today we define it as the entry of the building, in practice the less-formal and more intimate conversations in the foyer of our buildings feel a bit more like what you would say at home—less filtered than in our classrooms or in the chapel itself.
Of course, I realize that our conversations there aren’t always about what happened in Church. But occasionally, at least, we comment on something that was taught in a lesson, or react to something that was said in a talk. Often members of a ward will talk to a speaker or to a teacher and say something positive about their contribution at church — we’re unfailingly polite, so it’s almost never a negative reaction. I think many members are very good about finding something positive to say about a talk or a lesson—it’s either that or we say nothing at all.
If we can creatively find polite things to say, how much more difficult is it to find interesting ways to react that explore our understanding of the gospel? Why mentally focus on what we didn’t like in a lesson, or how boring or poorly prepared or whatever, when we can mentally focus on some way of thinking about these things that actually improves our understanding of the gospel or builds our faith? Why focus on things we can’t change when we can change our ways of thinking to something better?
So, how do you participate in Church? Are you engaged in what happens?
In these posts I am trying to suggest that each of us can have better experiences at Church if we take responsibility for our experiences, and if we are open to learning from what happens by pondering it — by thinking about it in many different ways. We can choose to learn and benefit from what happens regardless of whether it fits our perception of what is “good.” Thinking about our reactions and what we understand allows for revelation and for better understanding.
In this vein, I like the statement that President Hugh B. Brown made in a 1969 BYU devotional, President Hugh B. Brown declared that the Church is “not so much concerned with whether your thoughts are orthodox or heterodox as we are that you shall have thoughts.” We should be carefully considering what we hear at Church, regardless of whether what we heard is right or wrong, orthodox or heterodox.
A lot of our thought depends on how we look at it. It is not different from what many artists figure out—they understand that how you see the world before you is more important than what you see. You might call it ‘active listening’ or shifting perspective. It just means that you see differently. And seeing differently reveals a different world.
In my case, I tend to focus narrowly, thinking about groups of words or sentences, sometimes taking them out of context and thinking about what they say, even if the speaker didn’t intend what I heard. It’s not at all like what we’re taught in school, where the focus is on understanding accurately and completely what the speaker or text says. Its about pulling out useful or inspiring thoughts in spite of what was said.
So, if you aren’t thinking this way, maybe try it next Sunday, or the next time you are in a class or meeting. If you have already thoughts inspired by what happened at church, what are they? How did you react to what happened in Church yesterday? What did you notice? Did you end up thinking differently? Do you think your reactions were what they should be? Were they looking for what God had to tell you? Did your reactions make things better?
This is the latest invitation for reactions to local meetings, continuing a series of weekly posts that started with my post on September 25th about how we receive what happens in Church meetings—sermons, lessons and anything else—and enter a conversation with them, magnifying what was said or adding what we think. In these posts I’m asking us all to think about how we listen and receive what happens at Church. If we only listen for mistakes, or things that bother us, what does that say about us? Is it most important to criticize others? Or to try to change ourselves?
The point here is that no matter how poorly prepared the speaker or teacher is, or no matter how what happens triggers us, or is objectively or doctrinally wrong, we can still find elements in what is said and what happens that inspires and edifies us. Even if church meetings aren’t conducted in a way that reaches us, we can take responsibility and find a way to feel the spirit.
So please, write down reactions and thoughts to what happened in Church. You might keep your own ‘spiritual journal’, or, if you like, you can post your reactions below. I’m adding my own reactions and thoughts as a comment to this post — instead of as a part of this post, because my reactions aren’t any better than anyone else’s.
Let me emphasize that this is NOT a place to criticize what is wrong with church or your fellow congregants. The point is to post what you learned because of what happened at Church or how that led you to think. It’s about the good things we can get out of Church, not the negative things that disturbed or upset us. It doesn’t have to be orthodox, traditional or even on topic.
If you like, make your response in the format, “They said or did this, and I said or thought that.” Even the things you dislike the most can be turned into lessons for what the gospel teaches we should do.
My hope is that these reactions serve as an example of a better way to treat what happens at Church instead of the perennial complaints about speaker or teacher preparation or ability, or complaints that the Church should do things differently.
Comments
5 responses to “What You Should Talk About in the Foyer (Or What Did Church Lead You to Think About Yesterday), 7/12”
Here’s a few of my thoughts in reaction to what I experienced in Church yesterday (7/12):
We talked about the “testing” that we undergo in this life. This was about a conference talk. The discussion was about how testing proves how good we are. Some people talked about automobile proving grounds, testing how good the engineering was.
I proposed that testing is necessary for learning. You test the auto on the proving ground. If there is a failure, you learn and re-engineer the produce. Likewise, if we are tested in life, it is so we can learn, not to measure our worth.
I pointed out that life can deliver horrid “tests.” A few years ago we visited the mass graves in St. Petersburg, Russia, caused by the Germans starving the population. Think of being a father watching you children starving to death and praying to God for help. What a test.
Afterward a friend asked it God tests us so harshly, should we not be testing our physical children as well with harsh tests? This is what God does.
I suggested to him that much of what God subjects us to is for contrast. So that we can really appreciate the celestial realms without death and suffering. We are here to learn what evil really is. This is not a test, but an education.
Thx to Kent Larson’s entry above, I just had a vivid memory of my own encounter w Elder Perry. He addressed a Saturday session of our stake conference (in E Utah), and I also recall that he got right next to us in the benches to make his talk. Because of that talk, I was motivated to memorize the Elizabeth Barrett poem “How Do I Love Thee?”, which came in handy 18 yrs later during an impromptu sermon to a non-denominational church group on a military base on New Year’s Eve.
The “foyer” in this post is pertinent to me, because my strongest impression from my latest Sunday’s session came from our foyer. Due to circumstances, I was enjoying our Sac Mtg from the foyer thru the overhead speaker, when an old friend from another ward (their mtg was just letting out) recognized me and stopped to visit. We were wardmates decades before, until our suburb’s density increased and the inevitable ward divisions had placed us in different groups.
I remembered this man as a strong, intellectually-driven caring person, a man who had made a fair living selling encyclopedias (before home computers, of course). But this week I realized that 4 decades brings changes, some uplifting, some grinding. He now has a debilitating condition which makes him dependent on his wife. In the few moments I was able to talk to him before the wife whisked him home (so she could return to the chapel and take care of more church-related stuff), I realized that he was seeking somebody to talk to, to review and catalog his challenges, and to be interested in his past.
I realize that I should find an opportunity to rekindle our friendship on a more regular basis.
Our friendship of 4 decades ago was merely based on monthly home-teacher calls, but I think we all enjoyed the church-driven excuse to spend time together back then. Now, I think this lovely man needs an ear and an interest.
With the coming shift to a shorter priesthood meeting and a shorter Sunday school class in quick sequence, I have been thinking a lot about the various preferences people in my ward have for gathering. Spatially, many will usually choose left, right, center, front, middle, or back. The last row is strongly desired by many. Some will pick up a chair and place it well behind the back row. Some stick to the foyer. Temporally, some arrive early, some on time, and others always 20 minutes after things have started. I was once told that giant flocks of hundreds of birds wheeling through the sky maintain there structure because each bird has its preference for where it wants to be: in the middle surrounded by other birds in every direction, closer to the edge, on the edge, a bit past the edge.
Talking to my wife about this, I realized that for Gospel Doctrine, I have a srong tendency to walk into the room 3 minutes or so after it starts, preferring to skip the teacher’s carefully thought out preamble and arrive with motion underway, like hopping on a train already pulling out of the station. (When did that become a prohibited safety violation?) My wife, who sits in the classroom waiting for things to start said, “I’ve noticed that habit. I figured you had something you need to do.” “I can also find something useful to do instead of coming in and waiting.”
SVbob:
I like how you have approached this. I think it borders on the question of agency vs. God’s control. I suspect that many of the challenges in life come because of the agency of others, and not God’s specific attempt to give us trials. That whole question is a big can of worms that seems quite mixed up in LDS thought.
Raymond Winn:
Meeting your friend in the foyer is a great story. As I’ve aged I’ve realized that relationships need to be maintained — they require constant investment (which seems to be something few people do outside of family). I hope that relationship is reciprocated. As I’m trying to suggest with Church meetings, how you see and react to the other person determines what you will get out of it.
John Mansfield:
Yes, fascinating! Looking at these meetings both spatially and temporally is very perceptive. And like any way of looking at meetings, they can even end up a source of conflict — I remember a news item years ago about someone firing a gun at an Idaho LDS building because someone sat in “his” row in the chapel. We can easily end up unnecessarily in a rut or fixed on a particular spatial or temporal relationship to church. Maybe we should try some kind of rotation to mix things up.
As for your timing coming to class, you remind me that it isn’t so much what we do as how open we are to the experiences we end up with. I think that when you go to a class (early, late, on time, whenever) is more about your relationships with others than it is about how much you receive from the class. I’m glad that you are noticing what you are doing. That’s the only way you can decide whether or not to make a change.