While readers are more familiar with Jesus healing and blessing rather than “cursing,” the story of the Fig Tree is important for our day. Just as the Jews of Jesus’ time were held accountable for brining forth fruit, so, too, are our lives expected to reflect that of Jesus.
Take a minute and review the tenth article of faith with me, if you will: We believe…that Zion (the New Jerusalem) will be built upon the American continent. What does this mean? How is this city different from any other city? I imagine that most church members picture this Zion as a magical, idyllic dwelling place, free from sin and suffering. But an image of what the city looks like doesn’t tell us how it came to be that way. If Zion is a utopia, what attributes and qualities does it possess that allows it to be one? I don’t pretend to know, but here are a few possible considerations: Physical Layout — Is Zion’s paradisiacal nature due to the genius of its physical planning: the architecture and design of its buildings, residences, and parks? Government — Or will it be the result of some superior form of government, some kind of organization unlike any we have seen before? That its laws will be just, merciful, and effective? Science — Perhaps our increased understanding of human nature, economics, and technology will allow us to provide for people’s needs so efficiently that there is no want. Society — Maybe the paradise of Zion will be the result of a city that encourages and facilitates social networks. Helping all residents to have friends, family, coworkers, clubs, and other organizations provides a social support network that allows needs to be met at a…
Palm Sunday is a good opportunity to recall one of the rare moments in Jesus’ ministry when he was recognized for the king he was. But depending upon the timing of Passover and the day that Jesus was crucified, this Sunday could also have been “fifth day before Passover” when the Paschal Lamb was selected for Passover and set apart for the Lord, giving special significance to crowd’s recognition of Jesus on this day—they may have been welcoming him as a hoped-for king, but in reality he had come as the Lamb of God who would die for them.
As a prologue to our journey through the Savior’s final week, considering another, implicit level of symbolism inherent in the accounts of Jesus’ anointing provides depth to Jesus’ role as “the Christ.” John’s placement of the anointing before the Triumphal Entry can be seen as portraying Jesus as the rightful king who enters Jerusalem with authority. The location of the anointing in Mark and Matthew on Wednesday of Holy Week signals a shift in emphasis as Jesus begins to function as the anointed priest who makes the ultimate sacrifice for his people.
The Los Angeles temple at night.
The Atlantic’s food channel recently posted an article entitled Jello Love: A Guide to Mormon Cuisine (my co-blogger kindly linked to it in the sidebar). The author lived in Utah for a time as child, and she knows whereof she speaks. The piece is charming, nostalgic and mostly reality-based. But I blog, therefore I quibble. Classic Mormon fare seems to have crystallized as a cuisine in the 70s or 80s, though I couldn’t tell you why that’s so. In a lot of ways, its provenance is a bit of a mystery: I doubt that any of the dishes originated among Mormons—they tend to be familiar in the Midwest and South—and none of them have obvious connections to Mormon history, except for their suitability for ward potlucks. One might expect Mormon cooking to reflect our practice of storing three-month or year supplies of staple foods—and in reality, “food storage” meals incorporating beans, wheat, and powdered milk do rotate regularly across many Mormon dinner tables. But they don’t show up in the stable of “classic” Mormon foods. The writer of the Atlantic piece characterizes Mormon cuisine as “bland,” “packaged,” “processed” “convenience foods”—but I think the article is self-refuting on these points, as the dishes noted really don’t fit these descriptions. Some ingredients are processed in the sense that they are canned or dried, but this is not a Sandra Lee-style convenience “homemade.” Nor, of course, are they of the enlightened, organic, local,…
For most traditional Christians, the basic chronology of Jesus’ last week is fairly clear: he entered Jerusalem on Palm Sunday; taught and prophesied for two or more days; held the Last Supper and was arrested on Thursday evening; died on Good Friday; and rose from the dead the morning of Easter Sunday. To make a devotional study of the Savior’s Final Week simpler, in past years posts and in last year’s Ensign article,[1] I have avoided detailed chronological discussions. Here, however, I want to provide interested parties with more background to the issues involved in this study, after which I will endorse a basically traditional chronology for devotional purposes. The only securely established day is the day of the resurrection, which is explicitly identified as “the first day of the week” (Mark 16:2; parallels Matt 28:1 and Luke 24:1; John 20:1). The gospel of Mark, widely assumed to be the earliest of the written gospel accounts, provides relative time markers, which, calculating back from the resurrection on the first day of the week, place Jesus’ triumphal entry on the previous Sunday.[2] Sunday: “And when they came nigh unto Jerusalem” (11:1) Monday: “And on the morrow, when they were come back from Bethany” (11:12) Tuesday: “And in the morning, as they passed by, they saw the fig tree” (11:20) Wednesday: “After two days was the feast of the Passover” (14:1) Thursday: “And the first day of unleavened bread, when they killed the…
In the bustle of day-to-day life, it is useful to employ holidays to refocus our attention and our thoughts and, most of all, celebrate together and with friends of other faiths the events we all value. For some years now, my family and I have benefited spiritually by using the gospel accounts of the Savior’s last week as the focus of our family and personal scripture study. It is a great way to truly celebrate Easter!
This photo was taken the week before we moved across the country and left all of our family back home. Just a warm summer evening, feeding the ducks with Grandma and Grandpa, and enjoying the experience. I never understood why people said it was great to be a grandparent, until I became a parent myself. Though some days as a young mom seem rough rather than fun, I cherish the moments that I get to kiss their warm cheeks, hug their small bodies, and then out of the blue they say “I love you mom”. When my little ones are grown and having children of their own, I know I will look forward to those same moments; those same little hands; those same sweet faces, of my grandchildren. by Dana Willard of 88 Miles Per Hour ___ This picture is part of our ongoing series highlighting Mormon images. Comments to the post are welcome; all comments should be respectful. In addition we invite you to submit your own images to the Mormon Image series. Other images in the series can be found here. Rules and instructions, including submissions guidelines, can be found here.
The Society for Mormon Philosophy and Theology holds its 2010 conference at UVU this Thursday through Saturday (March 25-27) on the theme of theological anthropology. Invited speakers include: Terryl L. Givens (University of Richmond)—”Finding the Divine in Man: Romantic Angst and the Collapse of Transcendence”; Kevin Hart (University of Virginia)—”The Prodigal Son”; Laurence Hemming (Lancaster University)—”A Singular Humanity: The End of Anthropology”; David K. O’Connor (University of Notre Dame)—”Plato, Purity, and the Iconoclast Temptation: A Catholic Imaginarium” Other session themes include agency and grace, the natural man, human pre-existence, perfectability and theosis. The full conference schedule and abstracts of the presentations are listed on the SMPT website. All sessions are free and open to the public.
Last week a friend invited me to attend a lecture sponsored by the SLU Theology Club and featuring James Alison, a Roman Catholic priest and theologian. Alison grew up in Britain, was raised in a low-church Protestant tradition, converted to Catholicism, and now resides in Belo Horizonte, Brazil, living as an openly gay Catholic and working with AIDS patients. That collision of proper nouns seemed provocative. The talk was to be titled “The Gift of the Spirit and the Shape of Belonging: Meditations on the Church as Ecclesial Sign.” Even more promising: Catholic ecclesiology shares something in common with its LDS counterpart, inasmuch as both traditions revere an ecclesiastical hierarchy and value orthodoxy, and I hoped that Alison’s remarks might offer a wavy mirror on the shape of my own belonging. I was not disappointed. Alison opened by observing that ecclesiology, or contemplation of the church as an institution, is always a “broken-hearted” discourse, informed by communal contrition and enlivened by love infused with great pain. He connected a broken-hearted ecclesiology with the sacrament of baptism: we enter the church by way of a symbolic death, and that humble entrance should inflect the way we inhabit the institution—that is, with humility, not triumphalism. This struck me as a profound reading of the sacrament of baptism. Alison’s subtext, it seemed to me though it was never mentioned explicitly, was both his experience as a gay men in the church as well as…
From my youth I’ve wanted to do right. A desire to follow the Holy Ghost occupied much of my spiritual reflection in my teens and early twenties. I made it a point to be aware of my feelings, and after a time I identified a few particular feelings that I identified as being the Spirit. The most powerful of those feelings was a compulsion to do or not do a thing. When I defied that compulsion I felt guilty and unworthy. I sought the Lord’s guidance in prayer on even very minute matters, and so I would feel compelled in things as small as which route to drive home or what color shirt wear. The summer after I got married, I took a construction job doing residential framing. One Friday afternoon as we were cleaning up, my boss told me that he would be working Saturday, and that I was welcome to join him if I wanted to get some extra hours in. I was looking forward to the weekend and had no desire to work, but I felt that familiar compulsion come upon me, the feeling that God wanted me to work those hours on Saturday. When Saturday morning came, I defied that compulsion and chose to stay home. And what happened? I spent the day with my wife and had one of the best Saturdays of my life. I don’t remember what we did — probably just went…
Stewart Udall, U.S. Secretary of the Interior under Kennedy and Johnson and a prominent member of a prolific Mormon political dynasty, passed away Saturday morning at his home in Sante Fe, New Mexico, according to a statement from his son, Senator Tom Udall. Known affectionately as “Stew,” he was ninety years old and the last surviving member of Kennedy’s original cabinet. While he did not remain an active Latter-day Saint in his later life, he nevertheless kept close ties with the Church and continued to self-identify as a Mormon, claiming that he was “Mormon born and bred, and it’s inside me… I prize my Mormon heritage and status.” More than that, throughout his adult life he served as an important intermediary for the Church on both political and religious matters. Background and Public Life Stew was the son of former Arizona Supreme Court Justice Levi S. Udall. He was born in the small town of St. Johns, Arizona in 1920 and attended the University of Arizona before leaving on a mission to the Eastern States in 1940. After his mission, Stew enlisted in the Air Force, serving as a B-24 gunner and flying fifty missions over Europe during World War II. Upon returning from his service, Stew attended law school at the University of Arizona, graduating in 1948. He also married Ermalee Webb that same year, his life-long companion with whom he had six children. In the 1950s, Stew entered politics…
Before looking in detail at the scriptures for this week, consider the following possible chiastic parallels between the story of Moses’s life and the story of Israel’s experience. Of course parallels are what we make of them. Some may see these as more tightly like one another than others do. Some may be skeptical about these chiasmuses, especially since one of them has missing parts. Some may see nothing at all. If you don’t find these parallels interesting, or at least thought-provoking, skip them and go on to the questions. If you do find them interesting, perhaps they will be useful for thinking about these stories—but don’t make more of them than is reasonably possible. (Some of the tables I used to diagram the chiasmuses turned out strange, though readable, when I pasted this from Word. The others turned out fine. I don’t have a clue why, so I also don’t have a clue how to fix them. Thanks for your patience.) I. Moses life: A: Moses is born. B: Moses is introduced into a life in two communities (Israel and Egypt) via an act of violence, the killing of the children. C and D: Moses is a member of both communities, but the dominant community is that of Egypt. E: Moses is cast out of both Egypt and Israel by and act of violence, killing the Egyptian taskmaster. F: Moses tends sheep in the wilderness. G: Moses discovers who…
This discursive approach to church leadership certainly had its problems (most dramatically in the story being re-told by Daymon and Brad at BCC). It is more chaotic, less predictable, more likely to offend long-time members when long-held doctrines change. However, it is, perhaps, more responsive to the changing needs of church membership.
This is a group of mostly single Latter-day Saints from D.C. and elsewhere who are on their way to volunteer in a remote Guatemalan village in the Polochic Valley– one of the poorest in the world. Many of the villagers from this area are themselves Latter-day Saints. The volunteer work done be this group consisted of a variety of humanitarian building projects, educational workshops and medical service. This photograph shows just one of several cattle trucks that transported the group to the village. This volunteer trip was recently featured in Meridian Magazine. by Juanita Verma ___ This picture is part of our ongoing series highlighting Mormon images. Comments to the post are welcome; all comments should be respectful. In addition we invite you to submit your own images to the Mormon Image series. Other images in the series can be found here. Rules and instructions, including submissions guidelines, can be found here.
There is a long-standing tradition in the church to use honorific titles identifying priesthood positions for men at just about every level beginning when they become missionaries. Elder, Bishop, President. Women — even those who hold similarly named positions — are generally referred to as simply “sister.” In my 45 years in the church, I can recall less than a handful of times when a woman was referred to by title. When I was 19 we moved to England while my dad took a sabbatical from BYU. My mom soon made a dear friend in the mission president’s wife. We spent hours and hours helping her fulfill her various duties. (My mom out of friendship, me out of a desire to hang out with cute missionaries.) This was more than a full time job. Upon returning home, I started paying attention to the Church News announcements of new mission presidents. The notices generally told about the man who’d been called, what his career was, what callings he’d held — and ended with something like, “President Jones is married to the former Mary Johnson.” Years later the husband of a friend was called to serve as a mission president. As I witnessed the preparations to leave for three years, packing up an entire home, learning a new language, leaving friends and family, it was obvious that the woman was making as serious a commitment as the man. But she wasn’t given…
Almost two months to the day that we invited him to guest, Dane Laverty has continued to blog with us at a prodigious pace. We are now happy to report that he is a guest no longer, but will be joining T&S as a full-time blogger. Dane is a resident of Salem, Oregon and Sacramento, California. He graduated from BYU in contemporary dance, supports his family as a computer programmer, and is attending Willamette University as a business student. He is also a prolific reader and — as we have seen — blogger. We certainly look forward to more of his thought-provoking posts in the months and years to come. Welcome aboard Dane.
A loyal reader requested that I blog about His Eminence Francis Cardinal George’s speech at Brigham Young University last month, available to download here. Ever the faithful servant of my reading public, all three of you, I respond with alacrity! BYU often invites prominent figures to address the university community on topics of mutual interest, and Cardinal George, Archbishop of Chicago and President of the US Conference of Catholic Bishops, graciously contributed to the long-running series with his February 23 remarks entitled “Catholics and Latter-day Saints: Partners in the defense of religious freedom.” Cardinal George framed his remarks within the cooperative efforts undertaken by Catholics and Latter-day Saints: from the friendly relations at home between LDS church leadership and the Catholic diocese of Salt Lake City, to the communities’ mutual interest in the moral health of American society in matters of life, family, and pornography, to the many and far-flung charitable efforts jointly carried out by Catholic Charities and LDS Philanthropies. He devoted the bulk of his remarks to yet another mutual interest of Catholics and Latter-day Saints, namely the defense of religious freedom, and in particular the prerogative of religious voices to raise moral issues in matters of public policy. It’s a topic that I have followed with interest, and which has concerned Latter-day Saints in the wake of the backlash to Proposition 8. Cardinal George situated the question in the American traditions of limited government and freedom of conscience, and, at greater length,…
A fascinating New York Times article and follow up blog post discuss negative reactions to a build-on-common-ground Christian missionary initiative among Muslims. The blog post details: An outreach technique that some Baptist missionaries use with Muslims. It involves stressing commonalities between the Koran and the Bible and affirming that the Allah of the Koran and the God of the Bible are one and the same. . . . The “overture” — the missionary’s initial bonding with Muslims via discussion of the Koran — is precision-engineered to undermine their allegiance to Islam. This approach is quite similar to what I learned in the Missionary Training Center: Find common ground. Build relationships of trust. A great way to reach out to people. Or is it? What are the ethics of this approach? Is this two step approach a legitimate way to reach out to other faith communities? Is there something problematic about finding common ground as an opening step in undermining the rest of a person’s belief system? (On the other hand, as the NYT blog also mentions, it seems at least as bad to take the opposite tack that there is no common ground between religions. ) If the open-with-common-ground approach is acceptable, then is it equally legitimate if outsiders approach one’s own community in the same way? The NYT article wonders what Evangelical missionaries would think if Muslims put the shoe on the other foot. My own observation suggests that…
The other night as we were getting ready for bed, my wife said, “You know Dane, I really miss laughing. I don’t mean like little *he he he* laughs, I mean deep, cleansing laughter.” And she’s right. Between children, school, and the pressures of responsible adult life, laughter kind of got lost somewhere. I don’t really have any special insights on this one, but I’d love to hear the collective wisdom of the moms and dads out there: where do you and your spouse find carefree fun in your family?
Genesis 40 Verse 1: How long do you think “after these things” might represent, a long time or a short time? Why do you think we hear nothing further about Potiphar’s wife and what became of her? Verse 2: Note that “butler” is probably better translated “cup bearer,” and “baker” is probably better translated “royal scribe.” These are important palace officials. Does that suggest anything about the prison director’s thoughts about Joseph? Why doesn’t the writer tell us anything about how they have made the Pharaoh angry? Are we supposed to see a parallel between the servants of Pharaoh who (literally) “sinned against their master” and Joseph who has refused to do so because it would be a sin against God (Genesis 39:9)? What do you make of the fact that in chapter 39 (22), Joseph was put in charge of all of the prisoners, but here he must wait on two of them? Has his status changed or does this say something about these two prisoners? Verse 3: In whose prison is Joseph? Why is Potiphar’s name absent, but his title used? Verse 5: The Egyptians believed that “sleep puts us in real and direct contact with the other world where not only the dead but also the gods dwell” (Vergote, Joseph én Égypte 48). How is this relevant to the butler’s, baker’s, and Pharaoh’s dreams? How does this explain their sadness or frustration (verse 6)? Why does verse…
Norbert at BCC recently shared this reminiscence about his wilder days at BYU. What struck me most was the conversation in the comments between Norbert and his friends and acquaintances from those days. I caught glimpses of magical people from a mystical (or mythical?) time.
