A Few Thoughts on Prayer

A few months ago someone gave a talk in Church about prayer. The speaker related a story about when their family was going on vacation they took their car to the mechanic to get it checked and ready for the trip. Shortly after driving out of town into the desert, their car stalled. The man tinkered with his engine and tried repeatedly to start the vehicle but had no luck. Then one of the family suggested that they have a prayer. The man was in no mood to pray but he quickly decided that he should not lose his composure in front of his family. Someone in the family offered a prayer after which the man tried one last time to start the motor...and it started, and they were on their way without another problem. Many months before this Sunday I heard this man’s wife tell a more brief version of this story, so I knew that it made a long-term impression on them.

On another Sunday this past year there was a young woman who said that by praying, her mother found her car keys. She said frankly that she didn't think people should be praying for such trivial reasons but she had to admit that this time it worked.

Recently while I was driving my truck in the hot desert summer sun, the engine stalled and I coasted to the side of the road. I remembered the stories that I had heard in church and wondered if I should say a prayer...but I didn't pray. Instead I left my car and walked about a mile to my home. I thought that I should give the truck (and the day) a chance to cool down. I would return and try to start the truck later. When I returned the truck started right up. Later I learned that I had a corroded battery cable (probably due to my high powered speakers).

I do not want to trivialize and disrespect other people's prayers and reasons for praying but I am not able to muster the faith to pray for these kinds of things.

At the beginning of this post is a picture of an old man praying. This picture caught my attention one day when I was a young man while shopping at the Deseret Bookstore. I find much of contemporary religious art to be kitschy but I remember standing for a long time in the store thinking about this painting. It was very simple, but I liked it. I did not see weakness in this man, nor ignorance. I did not think he was asking for too much, or anything at all. I saw a man who had not become hardened over the many years of his life. I saw humility, dignity, and gratitude. And I wanted to be like this man when I got older.

Some time ago I struck up a facebook conversation with a long lost friend who as it turned out was experiencing some troubles in her life. This friend asked me if I prayed. I was taken aback somewhat by this question and had no ready answer. So I started to reflect about what I believed about prayer. My mind hit upon on old hymn that is in many Christian hymnals. I could only remember the first two verses so I looked up the hymn and read all the versus; I still only liked the first two. I decided that these verses captured my feelings about prayer better than anything else I could think to say.

Prayer is the soul’s sincere desire,
Unuttered or expressed;
The motion of a hidden fire
That trembles in the breast.

Prayer is the burden of a sigh,
The falling of a tear
The upward glancing of an eye,
When none but God is near.

-James Montgomery, 1818

Hard-line atheists contend that there is nothing in the universe that listens and responds to prayers, and they might cite as examples the unanswered prayers of women being raped, or the mother losing grip of her baby in a tsunami, or the person dying of hypothermia, or the person suffering in Auschwitz. These atheists argue that prayer is a colossal waste of time since there is nothing that will ever respond to our prayers, and that prayer is a delusion of ignorant minds, etc.

My response to this argument would be to say that there is plenty of anecdotal evidence that people who talk to their plants have greener thumbs. I talk to my plants too sometimes and I commune with them on some level and they respond to my attention. I talk to my cats too and my cats purr back. The Buddhist in me, on occasion, likes to dwell on the interconnectedness of all things; mostly I dwell on the things around me, the things of which I am aware or conscious. Sometimes I’ll walk out into the desert night and look up into the heavens and talk to God and feel a moment of oneness with the cosmos. But I do not expect anything magical to result from my prayers. My prayers are more an expression of my gratitude and wonder for all the good things that I encounter in my life and I make this communion with God in the only way that I know how as a human being, by using words and my voice (or my thoughts), although other humans are known to use prayer wheels, candles, or other such symbols to express the same attitude.

The magic of prayer for me is not that I can make money fall from the sky or anything like that, but rather the magic is the effect that prayer has on me. Prayer helps me to align myself and my thinking with everything that is good in the universe.

I am of the opinion that monastic-style petitionary prayer that has the purpose of persuading the heavens to act differently than they were otherwise going to act, is probably a waste of time but perhaps there is something psychically powerful about prayers, something that exerts an influence outside of myself. I don’t know. Guys like Dean Radin are trying to answer that kind of question.

I have no objection to prayers in schools and in government meetings. Why not just observe a moment of silence like we do when someone dies? That never seems to be politically incorrect. During the period of silence persons would be able to offer their own silent prayers, or if they prefer, they could have a private moment of “gratitude.”

I was taught to pray in the Mormon tradition: 1. Address God, 2. Give thanks, 3. Ask for blessings, and 4. Close in the name of Jesus Christ. I realize that some feminists argue that it is sexist to suppose God is a male, nevertheless I was trained to address "Heavenly Father," and I confess that this issue has not concerned me much one way or the other. Mormons like to pray using the “language of prayer” which means, good-old King James style--thee, thou, thy, and thine. I am not concerned much about pronouns either.

In my family we kneel every morning and every night and say a family prayer. Pam is the most diligent in making sure that this custom does not become forgotten. We take turns each time. I think our custom of having family prayers is beautiful, meaningful, powerful, and useful. I want to preserve in writing a typical prayer that comes from my mouth on days when it is my turn. The following prayer is typical in both length and content:

Dear Heavenly Father,

We are kneeling in prayer to show reverence and to give thanks for all the blessings that we enjoy in our lives. We are thankful for our home in the country, and for the school bus that comes right to our door, and for good schools and jobs. We are thankful that Kristina is going to have a baby girl, and we pray that she will have the strength to keep up her busy schedule while she is pregnant. We are thankful that Shaun and Alison have found new jobs. Please bless Erik that he will be safe. And bless Grandpa Ted and Grandma Ellen that they will not be lonely. Please bless Natalie and Grant that they will learn as much as they can in school today and respect their teachers, and help them to remember to be kind to everyone they meet, and make good choices. Please help us all to be good people and to try to make the world a better place wherever we go.

In Jesus' name, Amen.

Passionate Atheistic Blow Back (The New Atheists)

Books such as these are blowback, or unintended consequences of careless and overreaching religious teachings and structure. There is much in these books that I agree with but I want to comment on a few things that concern me about them.

Technically, Bertrand Russell is not a "New Atheist" but I do want to mention his famous book wherein he endeavors to list all the major mistakes made by Christianity over the last 2000 years, I merely want to point out that a similar list also could be made of all the mistakes made by governments over the last 2000 years, but notwithstanding all the mistakes that governments have made, some form of government has always been needed and will continue to be needed. Likewise, some form of religion will always be needed. Just as government is an evolutionary emergent, so is religion. Both serve necessary purposes in the evolution of the world.

Libertarians like to think of a world without governments but their views are extreme and do not convince most people that libertarianism would not lead to anarchy. Libertarians make the ideological mistake of wanting to minimize the size of governments when the goal rather should be to optimize the size of governments. Passionate atheists, such as Richard Dawkins and Christopher Hitchins remind me of Libertarians in that these authors seem unconcerned about any resultant anarchy that no doubt would follow from a mass and rapid exodus of people from their traditional religious structures. So far Dawkins, Hitchins, and similar proselytizing atheists have not persuaded me that their brand of atheism would not also lead to some kind of anarchy (at least in the short run).

Dawkins wrote in his 1998 book, Unweaving the Rainbow:

Many of us saw religion as harmless nonsense. Beliefs might lack all supporting evidence but, we thought, if people needed a crutch for consolation, where's the harm? September 11th changed all that. Revealed faith is not harmless nonsense, it can be lethally dangerous nonsense. Dangerous because it gives people unshakeable confidence in their own righteousness. Dangerous because it gives them false courage to kill themselves, which automatically removes normal barriers to killing others. Dangerous because it teaches enmity to others labelled only by a difference of inherited tradition. And dangerous because we have all bought into a weird respect, which uniquely protects religion from normal criticism. Let's now stop being so damned respectful!

This statement by Dawkins reminds me of the time I served as a juror. After the trial was over, the jurors assembled in the jury room and almost immediately one confident man volunteered to be the jury foreman and was elected by the others. We then took a preliminary vote of guilty or not guilty. There were two that voted not guilty--then commenced a long effort to persuade these two holdouts to change their vote. For a while the ten jurors were patient but soon some of the more dominant jurors became frustrated and let the tone of their voices become sarcastic and derisive. Of course the two holdouts reacted to this disrespect by not wanting to agree with their “enemies.” Next the amazing part: after a long and tiresome deliberation process, the hitherto less outspoken jurors began to take their turns at persuading the two holdouts. The gentle jurors succeeded. Case closed. For days afterwards I kept pondering in my mind the power of gentle persuasion and I vowed that if I ever served as a juror again I would not show my cards too soon but would wait for the bullies to talk themselves out first.

Sometimes Dawkins and Hitchens are bullies.

Hitchens wrote:

Religion is man-made. Even the men who made it cannot agree on what their prophets or redeemers or gurus actually said or did. (p. 9)

I say, however, so what if religion is man made? So are governments, disposable diapers and the scientific method. Even if science ultimately replaces religion, it is not prepared to do so yet. I prefer Voltaire's logic when he wrote "If God did not exist, it would be necessary to invent him." And Einstein said, "Science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind.

There is still an important role for religion to play in the world which I hope to explore more fully in other posts.

Hitchens also wrote:

If religious instruction were not allowed until the child had attained the age of reason, we would be living in a quite different world. (p. 220)" He is right about that one but I am not sure that it would be a better world.

All three of these authors are superbly talented individuals whose arguments should be studied even though their books are not balanced. I highly recommend Russell’s, “A History of Western Philosophy” instead. Dawkins is superb when he talks about evolution. Hitchens can make me wince and laugh out loud by his belligerent sarcasm (but so can Howard Stearn whose style I find to be despicable, albeit captivating). I hope that all the creationists, Islamists, and all kinds of fundamentalist zealots will read these authors but to most people, my children included, I recommend being careful with this kind of book that can leave you feeling angry, because when you are angry your judgment is impaired. I recommend reading Rabbi Jonathon Sacks, Peter Hitchens, or Krista Tippett, for starters. (Listen to Tippett in audio. Her style and tone set the standard for seekers with a religious background.)


Postscript:

Five days after I wrote this post, al Qaeda-affiliated gunmen killed 52 Christians and Police inside of a Baghdad church in an attempt to empty Iraq of Christians. This kind of religious extremism makes me angry too and helps me to understand the rudeness of the above mentioned authors. Yet it would be an imprudent indulgence to lash back without calculating all the consequences.

So I say, exterminate the murderous religious extremists but leave the rest of religion to be enlightened by education and diplomacy. And do not make the mistake of shooting back at everything religious or spiritual.

The following authors are among the prime movers of the New Atheism movement: Sam Harris, Daniel C. Dennett, Richard Dawkins, Victor J. Stenger and Christopher Hitchens.

Religions are both True and False

Here is an internationally recognized symbol of an atom. I ask you, dear reader, if this symbol is true or false? Please answer this question in your mind before reading further.

In the first chapter of my economics textbook there is a page about conceptual models as they relate to economic theories. I teach my students that a model is an abstract and simplistic representation of a greater truth. A model is a simplistic way of thinking about something more complicated. A scientific theory is a model, a set of coherent logic that is useful in portraying a bigger reality. Such scientific models are imperfect, and subject to scrutiny and modification. There is typically much resistance to changing established models or theories but paradigm shifts do occur over time as more knowledge is obtained and as the most staunch and established proponents of obsolete models die off.

About this time I draw the symbol of an atom on the board and I tell my students that this is a model. Then I ask them if it is true. Pause. Is this really what an atom looks like? Has anyone ever seen an atom? No, and no. If no one has ever seen an atom then how can this be a true picture of an atom? Do scientists believe that electrons orbit the nucleus (planetary model of an atom)? No. Then why do scientists who know better still use this inaccurate symbol and model of an atom when teaching children about atoms?

The answer is simple. A teacher cannot very well begin to teach the concept of an atom by teaching quantum electrodynamics. Rather, the teacher must employ some pedagogical strategy that usually includes some historical background and a graspable visual picture, a model. Years of teaching experience have confirmed to educators that teaching something that is not exactly true or up to date, such as the planetary model of the atom, may indeed be the best way to teach a greater truth, if it is a stepping stone in the right direction. Then I talk about the usefulness of models in spite of their limitations. Of course models also may contain errors and need to be updated.

Now, to answer my first question, the planetary symbol of the atom is both true AND false. It is “true” in the sense that it is “useful” to teach this model first before continuing to more complex models. It is “false” because it is not exactly what an atom looks like (electrons do not orbit the nucleus on planes).

After the class is dismissed and I am alone I continue the lecture in my head. I say that religions are also models, both true and false. They are true inasmuch as they are useful and adequately capture the ineffable truths that science and philosophy have heretofore not been able to capture. For instance, philosophers have come up with existentialism, a philosophy that is obsessed with the themes of absurdity, anguish, void, dread, and despair but have not yet come up with its opposite; until that day there is a place for religion in this world.

Just as scientific models need to be updated as a matter of course, so also religious models need to be updated too, but it seems to be the propensity of religions to resist change which ironically leads to their becoming less relevant in the world.

Religions are their own worst enemy.

I Am a Seeker of Truth (Don't Label Me)

Would you dare label Derrida? Nor should you label me. Would you categorize Kant? Would you look at Sarte and objectify him? Nor should you do these things unto me.

On several occasions I have told my kids that my favorite clothing style is “invisible.” That is, whatever clothing draws the least attention to myself is what I like to wear. All this is not to say that I do not enjoy fashion. In fact, I can offer some good evidence of my love for fashion--I have watched all the seasons (eight so far) of Project Runway with my family. I would love to be more fashionable in my life but I am usually too preoccupied with other thoughts and as a result my desire for fashion is suppressed by my greater love of philosophy. I tell my kids that I do not want tattoos for the same reason; I don't want to be branded. I don’t want to be noticed (unless I want to be noticed). I do not want to be categorized. I don’t want to be looked at and objectified. And I do not want to be labeled.

I dislike “labeling” questions: Are you a Christian? Mormon? Republican? American? From California?

I dislike these questions because by answering a simple yes or no, then the questioner will make many assumptions about me that are not necessarily true. For instance, if someone were to ask me if I am a Mormon and I say yes, then that person would probably assume that I do not believe in evolution and that I take the stories in the scriptures as mostly literally true, among many other things. All this would be false.

If someone were to ask me if I am pro-union or anti-union, then of course I again would be immediately labeled in that person’s mind even though in my mind there are circumstances under which I would be pro-union and other circumstances under which I would be anti-union or ambivalent about unions. For instance, If I were living 100 years ago in a small town with one employer, say, a copper mine, then I would likely be more pro union than when there is a more perfect labor market. Sometimes unions themselves can be the abusers. So I am neither for nor against unions at all times but I am either for or against unions under different circumstances.

If when I am lecturing I perceive that my audience is to the right of the truth, I might try to move them to the left, closer to the truth and I would do just the opposite with a liberal audience.

I teach my students that it does not really matter if a person starts out as a Democrat or a Republican, male or female, or any particular ethnicity or religion. What matters most is that they should try to be objective seekers of the truth and the truth is above petty sub-groupings. What matters most, is not the opinions you have when you start thinking in life but that you steadily improve your opinions all throughout your life.

I am a registered Republican; I was born that way. I am also a male (also born that way). But just because I am a male republican does not mean that I am beholden to the Republican Party and chauvinistic. So even though one may label me as a WASP (white Anglo Saxon protestant) or a Mormon, or a white male, or whatever, does not mean that I am any of these things. These are all just labels that ignorant people may ascribe to me. When I was a child these labels were probably more accurate but now that I have grown up intellectually, there is no stereotype that accurately defines me.

So who am I? What am I? How should I be labeled?

I am a seeker of Truth (Period). Everything else about me is a footnote.

The truth is at the center and I am always willing to move towards it in any direction I need to get there.

Introduction to the Blog

I intentionally gave this blog a conspicuous name, hoping that when I die someone in my family will remember that I did write something down in a blog (for what it’s worth) and perhaps try to find it. This blog is something of a memoir and collection of life lessons, so the reader will indulge me, please, if I write something that is self-aggrandizing and boastful. I have many thoughts that I want to write down but I am in no hurry. I will write when I feel like it.

Any visitor to this blog may feel free to make comments on any post, not just current ones.

The other day Natalie (daughter) and I were alone in my bedroom (Fall 2010). She was looking at my bookshelves when she noticed I had gathered about 20 pink highlighters out of my books (I use them as bookmarks), and she asked me why I highlight my books. She said it would be nice if I would write down what I was thinking when I highlighted my books. I could sense that she understood that although she could not yet understand the books I read, someday she would want to read them and understand what I was thinking when I highlighted them. This blog is, in part, a response to Natalie and the rest of my family.

This blog is a means of sorting out my own position on issues and then purging them from my mind to free up some of my working memory.

In this blog I will make my little contribution toward answering the perennial question, “What is truth?”

Some blog postings will take up Mormon issues or else express a passing thought, but I have no intention of writing Mormon apologetics, nor insensitive criticism.

Some postings will be disconnected, random thoughts and memories.

In short, Spinoza [think of Todd Hansink with tongue in cheek] is not to be read, he is to be studied; you must approach him as you would approach Euclid, recognizing that in these brief... pages a man has written down his lifetime's thought with stoic sculptury of everything superfluous. Do not think to find its core by running over it rapidly; never in a work of philosophy was there so little that could be skipped without loss. Every part depends upon preceding parts; some obvious and apparently needless proposition turns out to be the cornerstone of an imposing development of logic. You will not understand any important section thoroughly till you have read and pondered the whole...

-Will Durant, The Story of Philosophy, p.218

The Anthropomorphism of God

A couple of weeks ago a Church leader gave a talk in Sacrament Meeting about the Resurrection (Easter was coming up). After the meeting this Brother took me aside and said he wanted to get my opinion on something. He asked, “Why do you think it is so important that we teach that God has a body?”

Since I had just heard his talk on the Resurrection of Jesus I had some idea of where he was coming from with this question but it was still a very big question. I paused for a moment and then said, “I think that we over teach it.”

He looked a little confused.

Then I said, “I think we over teach, or overemphasize, that God looks like a man in his prime. You said it yourself, that the resurrected Jesus could walk through walls and rise up from the ground and depart into the clouds (See Acts). So I am saying that it is a very narrow teaching to emphasize that God has flesh and bones and looks like a man. God is more than that. But of course if God wanted to communicate to a human being in a dream, or otherwise, He probably would not appear as a fish or as an electron. God would be astute enough to pick a more effective communication medium. He would appear as something we could grasp. We teach our children (I pointed at Natalie, age 12, who was standing close by) about a God that looks like a man because that is all they can grasp; but surely God is greater than what children can grasp. So that is why I say we over teach the idea of an anthropomorphic God, because God must be more than that. [We over teach this concept when we expect educated adults to literally believe the same things that we teach our children.]

The Brother didn’t seem to want to engage the topic further and he started moving away. I guessed my answer was nowhere close to what he had been wondering about.

Before he got away I said a little more, “It doesn’t really make any difference to me what kind of body God has. I can’t say that I literally believe in a God that sits on a throne tapping his fingers while having a symbiotic relationship with His intestinal flora and having nipples, though if He is omnipotent then I’m sure He could do that.”

He looked at me without knowing what to say.

Then I said, “Well you asked.” And I gave him a big smile.

Now another person at Church thinks I’m odd.

Anti-Darwinism in the Church

I was sitting in a combined Youth Sunday School meeting when the teacher started to say something like, “How could anyone believe in Darwin and believe that we came from apes? We are children of God!” Then one of the smart (sometimes smart-alecky) young boys asked a question, “So Darwin got it all wrong?” His question was not acknowledged.

I sat uncomfortably in my seat and knew that I had to say something quickly before the moment had passed. I raised my hand without knowing what I was going to say but I knew I had to say something. The teacher saw my hand and called on me. I took a breath and tried to speak with a calm voice.

I said slowly, “Without disrupting the rhythm of the lesson, may I humbly interject a point about Darwinism. The issues of evolution have been debated many times by good Latter-day Saints at BYU and the Church has decided that we are not required to disbelieve that all life including human beings could have evolved from simpler life forms. I only want to bring this up now because this is the third time in about the last six months where I have heard the idea taught in Church that we do not believe in Darwin. But the reality is that the Church does not have an official position on human evolution even though most of our parents, grandparents, and many Authorities in the Church have spoken out against Charles Darwin. We, in fact, are not required to be anti-Charles Darwin nor anti-human evolution. The reason I want to make this point clear is because I think there are some kids in this room who might study science in college and decide that there is good evidence to conclude that humans did indeed evolve from lower life forms. And I don’t want those individuals to have memories of being taught anti-Darwinism in Church and thus needlessly feel that they are at odds with the Church.”

The teacher looked at me with a blank face and then moved on.

Some days later I spoke to the teacher to make sure that she was not offended by my comments. She seemed to be okay but has now probably categorized me as being a little odd.

The first book that I recommend on this topic is, Evolution and Mormonism, by Trent D. Stephens and Jeffrey Meldrum. This book gently shows how the LDS Church is not officially creationist even though most members and leaders are.

My Alter Ego

Ken Wilber

http://www.amazon.com/Brief-History-Everything-Ken-Wilber/dp/1590304500/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1267805356&sr=8-3

http://www.amazon.com/Kosmic-Consciousness-Ken-Wilber/dp/1591791243/ref=sr_1_19?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1267805420&sr=8-19

I was first exposed to Ken Wilber when I found his book, A Brief History of Everything, on my Dad’s bookshelf. (I am always attracted to bookshelves.) My Dad didn’t have much to say about the book except that I could take it. He told me that it was a selection of the Mira Costa College book group that met monthly to discuss their selections and vote upon others.

The book sat on my shelf for a couple years while I attempted to start reading it four or five times. Finally I worked up enough momentum in the book that I started to make progress and then suddenly I was hooked. I studied it very carefully and started to really enjoy it. By the time I finished this book I knew I had to know more about this guy.

Ken Wilber is another one of those rare human beings that have had a significant impact in shaping the way I think. Although he seems new agey at first, seems narcissistic at times, and sometimes dresses funny, I still enjoy all his quirky oddness without feeling the need to emulate him in every way or become taken in by his “fan club-cum-cult.” He appears a bit eccentric but, hey, the guy is truly one of life’s originals and he is full of substantive ideas.

I highly recommend one of his books: A Brief History of Everything, and his audio set: Kosmic Consciousness which covers the same material in an interview format. The combination of book and CDs is most effective as each medium has its inherent strengths and weaknesses; together they best introduce Wilber’s worldview. Beyond these two recommended works of Ken Wilber I make no further recommendations though there are still many wonderful intellectual nuggets to find. I have purchased most of Wilber’s books but that is more a reflection of my way of sizing him up. I do the same thing with musical artists as well. I like to know the full catalogue even when I only like part of it. I like to understand the artist as well as his message.

One reason why I have formed an intellectual bond with Ken Wilber is because he was the one that I was reading when I had a few more of those “aha” moments. Wilber taught me a few new things that I really found enlightening. Granted, I could have had such moments while reading somebody else because most ideas are not exclusively original to any one human being, but the fact is I was taught by Wilber. He was the one who communicated many ideas in such a way that I was able to receive them, and they came at I time in life when I was mature enough to pay attention.

The first topic that impacted my thinking was emergence--everything is simultaneously a “whole” as well as a “part” of something bigger (holons). Subatomic particles are wholes, but also parts of Atoms. Atoms are discrete wholes yet they are parts of molecules. Molecules are wholes that form parts of proteins which become parts of tissues, then organs, then organisms, then the biosphere, then the noosphere (see Pierre Teilhard de Chardin). The “aha” was the realization that I am part of something bigger than myself. I was finally ready to trade up to this broader perspective by giving up my more egocentric worldview and it was not a frightening thought but, surprisingly, it was very comfortable. I kept repeating in my mind, “Love thy neighbor as thyself.” This seemed very logical. I started to think of other people as extensions of myself, or, even, myself. This may sound loony but I honestly started to sense a keener kinship to the world than I ever had before. This attitude came from Buddhism through Wilber to me.

After a while I found that I was experiencing a real change in myself. I started to feel a greater ability to detach myself from emotional issues and try to understand them more objectively while all the time believing that in the long run the “truth will out.”

Perhaps the most important idea that I got from Wilber is that I do not have to repudiate things that I transcend; I can transcend AND include.

Ken Wilber is another kindred soul because I see part of myself in him. He is a tireless quester of truth and is not afraid to read all of the world’s best books without waiting for them to be assigned. And although he is ahead of me and different in many ways, we are both questers.

Guy Murchie

The Seven Mysteries of Life: An Exploration of Science and Philosophy by Guy Murchie.

I can’t remember how I first heard of this book--it was probably from reading book reviews on Amazon.com. I must have been impressed with the reviews because I bought one but when I received my first copy I was disappointed to find that the copyright was dated 1978 and every third or fourth page was illustrated with detailed, hand-drawn sketches that reminded me of my high school Biology class where I made similar drawings of cells and plants. My first reaction was that the book was a little less than cutting-edge. Nevertheless it was a new book and I started to read it.

After several nights of reading the book in bed before falling asleep and I distinctly remember that one night I stopped reading, opened my eyes wider, looked at the cover of the book, and I said out loud slowly, “This is a good book.” The next night I said to myself, “Every single page of this book is full of interesting ideas. I could pick any page of this book at random and really enjoy reading each page.” There was no filler in the book at all. Every page, even every sentence was a work of art, thought provoking, and delicious. I reconsidered my opinion of the hand-made illustrations and instead of seeing them as low-tech productions I saw them as the careful drawings of a masterful philosopher, scientist, poet, or artist—I wasn’t sure which.

Guy Murchie began his book’s preface with these words: “When I undertook this work in the spring of 1961, I was quite aware that I would almost certainly be thought presumptuous in attempting to write about all of life in one book. But I have to go ahead in the faith that any such seemingly impossible, if not harebrained, project on such a universal theme could hardly help being worthwhile—largely because of its rarity.”

Rarity is an understatement. Murchie’s book is more densely packed with great ideas than anything I had ever read before. Unlike many popular science books that spend 300 pages restating the same three ideas, or unlike other science books that are impenetrable because of a masochistic writing style that heaps abuse upon any would-be reader, Murchie’s book is a sheer delight to read and constantly surprises the reader with insights about life, the universe, and what it all means—insights that are expressed so freshly that they seem new. Murchie took seventeen years to write this magnum opus and “averaged less than one finished sentence a day during all this time,” he said in his preface. He called his writing, “painstaking” which must be true because I can’t imagine any poet laboring more over word choices than Murchie obviously did. His writing flows, is enchanting and reveals a universe that is more beautiful, rational, and caring than anything I had ever heard from science before--although later I would discover similar joy from guys like Carl Sagan and Richard Feynman.

Unlike a magician who astounds by what he does not reveal, Guy Murchie astounds by what he does reveal that we have not been seeing but which has always been in plain sight. Murchie is, then, in this sense, a revelator.

Toward the end of his book, on page 614, Murchie wrote some kind words about the prophet Baha’u’llah. I immediately started to worry that the author of this great book that I had been falling in love with, would suddenly reveal himself to be yet another unbalanced screwball. I researched the Baha’i Faith religion that Baha’u’llah founded and encountered what seemed to be a peace-loving-enough community. After reading a list of their core beliefs (and after reading Murchie’s book), I honestly felt that I had never read a one-page list of beliefs written by someone else that I could agree with more than this one. Nevertheless, I knew that what looks good on paper may not necessarily be so beautiful when practiced as an institutional religion. So I haven’t attempted to learn much more about the Baha’is except to find out they conduct meetings in San Diego that I would like to attend once just to get an idea about how successful they have been at putting their wonderful ideas into the realm of organized religion. I wish them well.

I searched for “Guy Murchie” on the internet and learned that he was a tall man and just as gracious and charming, by others’ accounts, as I had imagined him to be. Although I would love to read a little biography about him, it is not really necessary for his writing sufficiently reveals the man Murchie to be one of my all-time favorite human beings whose hand I would be honored to shake while expressing a little gratitude for creating a work so beautiful that I can only describe it as art, an odd choice of words for the book that I would most like to take to a deserted island.

New Scoutmaster

[I never sent the following letter. Writing it was all I needed.]

Dear Scout Parents and anyone else involved with scouting,

I was recently asked to be the Scoutmaster in the El Centro 2nd Ward—a very odd choice indeed. I reluctantly agreed. Over the years I have known many Scoutmasters and there has not been a single one of them about which I haven’t heard someone complain about his performance.

Scouting is another religion, complete with its rules, oaths, laws, mantras, handshakes, ranks, uniforms, and even fundamentalist-type zealots. The job comes with detailed manuals and lots of different expectations from everybody. Frankly, I don’t see how it will be possible to administer the letter of the law and satisfy everybody so I will tell you upfront that I will not be the model Scoutmaster.

I achieved the rank of Eagle Scout largely through my individual efforts, and to make my parents happy. Achieving Eagle never really meant that much to me perhaps because I didn’t experience much group camaraderie in the process. I take very seriously, however, the idea that kids should honor their fathers and mothers, and if achieving Eagle is important to a mother then it should be important to a scout, even if only to make mother happy—that’s what I did. Unfortunately, in some geographic regions of the Church, mothers place much of their self-esteem on whether or not their sons achieve Eagle Scout. To some mothers Eagle Scout means success as a mother while anything less is failure. This was the mentality of LDS mothers when I was a scout.

The Boy Scouts of America was started almost 100 years ago and it used to be extremely popular with young men but today it seems stuck in a time warp and is seriously outmoded to the point of becoming irrelevant and unappealing to modern sensibilities. Someday the Church will probably scrap the scouting program or help revamp it since scouting is really just a transitory or temporal program in the big scheme of things. In the meantime there are usually a few men and women in a typical Stake that obeisantly idolize scouting rituals as some end in themselves instead of a means to an end. I am not one of these people. So, to be clear here, I want to say that I do not worship the structure of Scouting. For me, Scouting is a tool, a means, for reaching the boys and instilling in them the characters and values of the Scout Oath, Law, Motto, and Slogan, which, by the way, I believe with my whole heart.

I looked on the internet the other day to search out ideas that I could use as a scoutmaster. I quickly became immersed in the myriad discussions on how LDS scoutmasters usually do an inadequate job and LDS troops are usually “mediocre.” Interspersed among the diatribes of the scouting fundies are occasional success stories of men who have dedicated their whole lives to scouting—the heroes of scouting. I marveled at how all the good efforts of the “mediocre” scoutmasters could be dismissed with so little appreciation. Is it any wonder why I am apprehensive about entering the fray of scouting since I will probably be just another mediocre scoutmaster at best?

Since I received this call I have been thinking about what my goals should be. I decided that I don’t yet have sufficient background to set all my goals. They will gel in time. My first goal, however, gelled immediately. That is to have fun on Wednesday nights with the scouts. I think it is very important for kids to have fun so that they look forward to going to Scout Meetings (Young Men’s). I have often said, “You can’t teach them if you can’t reach them.” I realize that if I act like a wacked-out scouting Hitler then the boys will harbor their secret doubts about the whole program and their attendance will drop off. So first and foremost I want to have fun so the kids will keep coming back.

I want the kids to form life-long memories of good, clean fun at Church with Church friends and leaders. I want the kids to feel loved by their leaders and develop strong bonds of friendship with each other. I never want the kids to think that their leaders, and therefore the Church, are heavy and pharisaical. We will celebrate all achievements, not just Eagle. Often we will look to the merit badge pamphlets to find ideas for fun activities and we will consider the activity a success if we have fun, learn something, build character, and instill scout values, even if we do not complete the merit badge together. I will be very vigilant to ensure the safety of all boys at all times but I cannot guarantee that boys will not occasionally get hurt. I will at all times be safety minded. I will also be vigilant about bullying, cliquishness, or hurtful comments.

What about campouts? I don’t know how to answer this question yet. I don’t have a large vehicle or trailer that I can use for overnight campouts. With parental support we can probably have some fun times but I can’t do the campouts alone. I do want to do some quota of campouts per year but I have to give this some more thought and talk to the fathers of the boys to see how willing they are to go along. Regular camping with fathers is one of the best ways to make good memories. I remember the first time I took my oldest son, Erik, to Fathers-and-Sons Outing, I was surprised on the drive home when he said it was the “best day of my life”…and then he paused and said “almost as good as Disneyland.” At that moment I appreciated how much more fun kids have when camping than parents. Let’s take our boys camping!

If you have any advice for me I will appreciate it and seriously and respectfully consider it. I may, however, not always follow it.

If you want your son to become an Eagle Scout then I suggest you send him to Scout Camp.

I really want to do a good job as Scoutmaster (good job by my standards, mediocre by fundamentalist standards). I know that I will not follow the manuals with exactness--not even close. But I will pick some goals and accomplish them. I mean, come on, if I start passing out callings like commissary, historian, or bugler—jobs with bogus job descriptions—then scouts will soon recognize the hollowness of the structure and neglect their duties. However, I do believe in sharing the duties and delegating meaningful work yada yada yada.

I do have some good memories of scouting. I particularly loved cub scouts and webelows. I liked boy scouts too for a while. I think most kids grow tired of scouting as they start high school. I will try to remember the things that I liked most about scouting when I was a boy and emphasize those things as Scoutmaster.

Please take a minute to review the values of scouting that I copied and pasted below. I believe in these values and will try to instill them in the scouts. Please help me by, first of all, trying to get to know me better. Please go out of your way to greet me and make small talk with me as often as possible. I look forward to working with you, the parents, as well as with your scouting boys.

Sincerely,

Todd Hansink
New Scoutmaster
April 23, 2008

Tour de Tucson 2007

Tour de Tucson
November 17, 2007
Platinum 04:43:25


My plan for this year’s tour was to train minimally and efficiently for a platinum time. I did not care to set a personal best time but just to go with the flow of my training partners. Basically my training consisted of indoor intervals on Monday afternoons, solo medium long rides on Tuesday afternoons, fast group rides on Wednesdays mornings, rest on Thursdays, long group rides on Friday mornings, and miscellaneous recovery rides on Saturday’s (usually indoors). My program was to be about three months long (any longer would have produced mental burnout this year). Another thing that I tried to do was not think too much about cycling when I wasn’t training. Several of the key rides were low quality due to wind, rain, dental appointments, and whatever else but I adjusted my training to compensate somewhat.

My only preparation race was a climb up La Rumorosa in Mexicali three weeks before the Tour de Tucson. I felt okay the first half but great the second half. Each week I was getting stronger, then everything fell apart. On Tuesday, October 30, I skipped my workout and went to see Mom and Dad. Mom was dieing. She died on Friday morning. I was glad to be there. Her funeral service was Monday morning. The rest of the day was spent eating good food and visiting with family for hours; nobody wanted to say good bye. I was very happy with the quality of Mom’s funeral and all the words that were spoken. I went away thinking that the whole ordeal—the vigil, death, funeral preparations, funeral, familial socialization—was one of the great experiences of my life. In no way should the brevity of this account of Mom’s death and burial within this Tour de Tucson story be misunderstood as being of lesser importance than my training for Tucson.

On the Saturday after Mom died I went back to El Centro to get my family ready for the funeral. On the way I parked in Ocotillo and rode up the grade. It might seem a bit irreverent to ride a bicycle when I am supposed to be grieving but riding solo is psychologically relaxing. On the way up (near the bottom) I caught up to Larry Cowne. I was glad to see him because I really didn’t feel like riding the bike at all and I thought that a little companionship would distract my thoughts. I felt a bit euphoric when I told Larry, “My mother died yesterday.” He started to say a few compassionate words before I spared him the awkwardness by explaining that while I was feeling a little sadness I was mostly happy. Larry didn’t seem too talkative as we rode and after a couple times of his dropping off I decided to leave him to his thoughts and I climbed alone.

A week and a half before Tucson I joined the Wednesday morning group ride. Fred was not there because he was having back problems. Brian informed me that he would miss the Friday long ride because of more melanoma testing. I rode with the group but got dropped by Greg and Brian before the sprint. I couldn’t muster the strength to keep up. By Saturday I mentioned to Pam that I didn’t think I wanted to go to Tucson.

On Sunday I drove up with Dad, Matt, Pat and Emily to see where Mom was buried in Rose Hills. The freshly laid sod marked the spot. Perhaps it was morbid humor for me to ask Dad how he felt knowing that some day he was going to be buried right there, as I pointed to the grass next to where Mom lay. We stood around and talked, and looked at the grave markers of Trent, Grandpa Arland, Grandma Jean, Grandpa Layton, and Grandma Beryl. We went to the Soup Plantation before visiting Pat and Emily’s new house. It was another long but joyful day. When I got home I was exhausted. Monday was a holiday. I no longer wanted to go to Tucson so I spent the day pruning bushes. On Tuesday I cancelled the hotel reservations in Tucson. Fred called me after the Wednesday morning group ride (I did not ride) to wish me well in Tucson. I told him that I wasn’t going and he agreed that that was probably for the best. Pam and I were going to go on some make-shift date to take the place of the Tucson weekend.

After teaching my classes on Thursday I went home to prepare for the weekend when Pam persuaded me that we could still go to Tucson. I had no intention of going to Tucson but after several positive statements by Pam I started to entertain the idea again of going. I started to think what I could do to salvage my race. What should be my goal? Was I off the bike too much? Would I get over my cold by Saturday? Would it be worth it if I don’t get Platinum? I got on my bike and did a quick 20 mile ride to think it over. It was too late to train (only 36 hours before race time) but I needed to send a message to my legs that they should stop shutting down. After the ride Pam and I quickly packed up and drove to Tucson where we arrived late at night after loosing an hour.

We spent Friday at Bookman’s (used bookstore) and ate at Beyond Bread again. Sometime after 5:00 p.m. Pam and I sat in the third row and listened to Greg LeMond talk about drug use in professional cycling. It was an unanticipated treat to be so close to the guy that I have followed and admired since I first saw him on TV in the mid 80’s. The Platinum Meeting, 6:30 p.m., boring. I did not have any energy to spare on Friday but all the while my brain was preparing my body to give one big effort on Saturday morning.

On race morning I knew I was not at my best but I did have experience with this race and tried to race as smart as possible. The word that kept coming to my mind to describe the beginning of the race was “violence.” After the starting gun, pure violence! My heart raced. My legs filled with lactic acid as faster riders passed by me. I didn’t even try to count the riders that passed me or how many riders were ahead. I just rode my own pace without worrying about loosing positions. I was resigned to just give a steady effort but I was still flying to the first river crossing—last year at 25 mph but this year as much as 28 mph but I was still getting passed.

After about an hour my legs were starting to feel like they were on the verge of cramping. In my first Tour de Tucson I didn’t heed that feeling and I cramped so badly I had to stop. This time I went to the back of the large group that I was riding with and tried to ride a more steady pace. The group gapped me a little with each surge but I slowly pulled back without seriously loosing the draft. I had to balance my need to ride steady with my need to not loose the draft. I was successful. Down Houghton Avenue I recovered somewhat because the downhill was not too fast. At the bottom when we turned left I decided that if I had any ability to pass other riders that now was the most critical time to do it. So I tried as best as I could to work my way back up the group (about halfway up) before the bottleneck of the second river crossing. The second river crossing broke our group into several smaller groups. I rode steady up the steep climbs but had to use my granny gear. Up the long gentle hill of Oracle I found myself strong again. Going down Tangerine Avenue was a little odd this year because our pace seemed subdued compared to previous years. At the bottom of Tangerine Avenue (mile 85) we had a full two minute wait for a train. I had mixed emotions about loosing time but I knew at this point that I was on target to finish with a platinum time so I just enjoyed the break. I looked up Tangerine and saw about five cyclist that were going to catch us on account of the train. I took the opportunity of the stop to say to a rider next to me, “You represent the ‘big man’ well.” He thanked me for the compliment. He later told me that he weighed 225 pounds which is a lot for a cyclist. I weighed about 197 but I am a lot faster as I get closer to 190. In my dreams I weigh 180 and am finishing with the fastest riders.

With about 15 miles to go I started feeling fatigue in my bottom from sitting in the saddle. A little later someone was cheering on the side of the road, saying we only had 10 miles to go. I was really uncomfortable by this point. I could not find a comfortable way to sit and I could not stand up to relieve my bottom because my legs would cramp every time I tried. I was squirming on my bike as time seemed to slow. I drank six large bottles this year due to the heat. There was a very slight headwind on Silverbell Road but we maintained the fastest pace that I have ever done on this road (22.5mph). The last two miles were easy and I was happy to pick up the pace just to finish as soon as possible.

I finished with a platinum time again and I was very happy because of the unique challenge that this race presented. I had to dig deep to maintain the pace and for the last ten days since the race I have been coughing like I have emphysema. That can’t be good. The weather is getting cold and early morning group rides are not very alluring.

Pam was my support team and she knew from experience exactly where (and how) to park right next to the start/finish line, where to stand to take away my warm-up clothes before the start, and to take a picture at the end. Being a spectator at a bike race can’t be very exciting but Pam sees all the effort that goes into preparing for a platinum time and she is very supportive and somewhat amused.

I missed Fred and Brian (not to mention my mother) but at least I have a feeling of closure on this cycling season.

Todd Hansink
November 27, 2007

The Gospel according to my Mom (RIP)

Shortly after my 17th birthday I left home and went to Bolivia for one year as a foreign exchange student. Soon thereafter I left home again to be a missionary in Chile. Mom wrote me a minimum of two letters per week the entire time. Neither one of us imagined what this unusual correspondence-relationship would become. I was surprised to discover a new dimension of my mother through her letters. I was strengthened by them and never at any other time in my life have I felt so close to her. Through her letters she artfully groomed me for adulthood in ways that she may never have achieved if I had stayed close under her wings.

The purpose of this post is to express gratitude for my mother and honor her by assisting her in spreading her gospel, or rather, the gospel in her words, her words of wisdom.

The following five pages contain excerpts from letters that Mom sent to me while I was in Bolivia and Chile. While the letters were originally written to me, the excerpts are relevant to all her posterity and are scripture to them.

I invite all her grand children to fold up these pages, put them in their scriptures, and read them every once in a while. Read these words to remember what was most important to Grandma Connie. Study them to discover truths that can be applied to your lives.

-Todd Hansink



Excerpts From Letters to Todd in Bolivia


September 8, 1979
“My dear son, I’m wondering how you are today. The sun is out here. The same sun that is shining on you, only many miles away. One thing that is close—that’s our love. I feel it strong and distance has no part in that. Today I want you to know that I love my Heavenly Father and his son Jesus the Christ. I’m thankful that He loves and cares for me and that I can go to Him in prayer and know that if no one else understands or if I have a hard time explaining my thoughts or feelings, He can unscramble them and understand. There are no hidden meanings to be twisted around or held against me. I know that when I am in the pits I seem to listen for the answers more intently. I have had answers and revelations come to me as if I were talking to myself. They were not my idea. Twice I answered (that is, two different revelations) ‘Lord, you must be mistaken.’ And the message was repeated. There was no explanation telling me that He wasn’t mistaken but the message came exactly as before. Again I said, ‘Lord, you must be mistaken.” Again the message or instruction came--exact words--as before until I had been told three times. It didn’t dawn on me until about three years later what was really taking place those days. Here I was receiving revelation knowing it was from the Lord and telling Him he had made a mistake. Now tell me, does the Lord make mistakes? Who was I to say that to Him and yet as I look back it was a true reaction and now I get embarrassed about it. Judging the Lord is unreal. I also know He knows I genuinely was having a hard time really getting it in my mind. Fasting is another principle and privilege. It’s the time when you can train the weak flesh to conform to your mind and spirit. I say to myself sometimes, ‘Shut up body. I won’t let you run me. I am the master here,’ and as I do this my spiritual strength increases. I feel worthy to go to the Lord in Prayer. I feel He knows I’m serious and am not expecting Him to do it all but that I’ll do my part. In my next letter I’m going to tell you of an experience that I had that I have never told anyone except your Dad. I wouldn’t tell you but there is a lesson to be learned. [She never mentioned this subject in subsequent letters.] I love you with all my heart…I’m thankful for all my blessings especially for my family. Nothing else is eternal just the gospel and the family unit. Everything else turns to dust. Set Eternal goals my son and ask for your Father in Heaven’s help. I love you, Mother.”

Postmarked November 9, 1979
“Until then my sweet son learn discipline in all things and remember I love you dearly. I depend on you a lot. I’ll help you or give you anything in my power to give if you will seek first the Kingdom of God. God be with you always. Love, Mom”

Sunday Oct. 28 ? [1979]
“…Dad cut the Elm tree yesterday. The trash man hates us…I am thankful for the gospel and the purpose it gives to my life. I see the unhappiness that comes into people’s lives in the Church when they go astray and do their own thing. Oh the misery they bring on themselves and loved ones. They try to excuse and blame their problems on everyone but themselves when actually not one of them has been forced, but has made such decisions of their own free will. They want their freedom to choose but they don’t want the result or reward of their own decisions. My son, if you want happiness, be close to your Father in Heaven because Satan teaches only misery and destruction and is so very clever as to deceive you. You are in my prayers forever. I love you deeply. Be strong and faithful. Love, Mother”

Postmarked November 21, 1979
“My dear son, I am writing you from Grandma Nellie’s house. This is Wed Nov 14 or 15 I don’t know. It is [?] pm. I have just broken my fast. I have been fasting 4 days. My Dad had surgery today…Our life ticks away everyday. Don’t waste time it’s perishable (opportunity is perishable). Seek righteous living every moment of every day. May our Father in Heaven look at your deeds every day and say, ‘Well done.’ God bless you. I send my love, Mother”

Postmarked November 27, 1979
“Hi honey, I got home from Dad & Nellie’s house Sat morning. On the way home after I left Susan’s house the blue Volkswagen caught fire on the freeway…My father is regaining his strength. The breathing tubes are out of his mouth and in a couple of days his throat will feel less sore and he will start to have food like jello, soup, liquids, milk, etc. His spirits are good as they can be. I pray for him. I love him so much. My father has never done an unkind thing to me and I have never been mad or angry at my dad in my entire life.”

Postmarked December 7, 1979
“Dearest (Down in no man’s land) Todd, I don’t know how much you have heard of world situations but the Shah of Iran has been dethroned…Oh this world is truly ripe and ready to explode. Wars and rumors of wars. If we only knew how close we are and barely hanging on that thin thread. My son, pray and repent if necessary and be worthy to be counted among the righteous. This is your only protection no matter where you are. The Lord needs leaders, men of great character, self starters, self motivated to save this Promised Land and prepare for the millennium. He needs pure and honorable men and women to marry and bring this last of the spirits of our Heavenly Father to this earth to complete their mission. God bless you always. We await your homecoming. xoxo Mom”

January 8, 1980
“We are in a gradually worsening world situation. We are afraid Russia will take over Iran next and thereby control the world’s oil…Our only protection is our armor of righteousness and each person stands alone and is accountable. It is certainly comforting to know the Lord is on your side and on anyone else’s that will repent and come unto Him.”



Excerpts From Letters to Todd in Chile


Postmarked September 30, 1981
“Have I ever told you what happens and the peace of mind that comes to a person who keeps the commandments and serves the Lord? The quality of their life does not compare with those who don’t. There is a scripture, ‘Obey those who have rank over you for they watch for you soul.’ If we were only always willing to accept correction and learn from the experiences of others, how much smoother our lives would be? How much pain and misery could we avoid? You can have hardships and problems and still have peace of mind. Be on the Lords side and you can find comfort in everything when He is your companion. I am in harmony with all the Lord taught. I try everyday to perfect my life. I love your Dad more everyday. He is a good and righteous man that loves his family as I do. We have one desire and that is to return to our Father in Heaven as a family. Everything we do each day is with this in mind.”

Postmarked January 2, 1982
“Connie’s baby is darling, a full head of very dark hair…What a joy it is to have your posterity grow. I feel like I started out as only one in a family but we are building a wonderful family with many grandchildren…I love them all. I can’t believe I haven’t seen Matt’s youngest, Marie Elizabeth, as yet…The stores here are packed and overflowing—produce so plentiful that it spoils before we can eat it. Yet people all over the world are starving. This is a land of plenty but it won’t always be. However, the Lord will bless and preserve us if we love him and obey his laws. I’m thankful for my testimony of Jesus Christ and I’m thankful for the privilege of living in the great land of America.”

Postmarked January 26, 1982
“It’s so exciting having all these grand children. My folks would have gone crazy and just loved all their great grand children. It was only my Dad’s health that kept him from enjoying the kids to the max.”

Postmarked February 4, 1982
“Everything has a price and it’s usually hard work and guts that make the difference. Discipline opens up a whole new world of opportunities for people and puts you in a class above. I love the term ‘High Achievers’ or the ‘Upward Reach.’ They all denote rising above and that means seeking perfection and becoming closer to out Heavenly Father.”

Postmarked March 3, 1982
“February is a great month. Everything is coming out new. The green grass in the field, the leaves on the trees, and flowers. It’s the sign of a new beginning, a fresh start, new life. This world was meant to be beautiful and shared by all with freedom from fear and hunger. I pray that I will live my life worthy of all these great blessings I enjoy. I’m thankful to have been raised in a home where I could hear the gospel and understand the true purpose of life—free from the mixed up to the insane traditions and customs of people of the world. My mind is clear and I do see and understand. It’s so simple…Each decision has its reward. So it’s up to us. If you want something bad enough you must pay the price. It’s up to us if we fail or succeed. It all depends on that one next step. So think and evaluate and put each step firm so you won’t slide back. I love you. I’m thankful you are my son. I’m crazy about your Dad. He’s the best husband and Dad. Your family is with you in thought. All the time you are in our conversations. Love & kisses and all that mushy stuff. Mom”

Postmarked March 20, 1982
“There is nothing wrong with trying new things but it can’t be because you tire easy when success doesn’t happen bang bang over night. Your Dad was telling an interesting story last night. His grandfather from Norway was a sea man—3rd from the top; I think he said, of the whole ship. Not a very big man but smart as heck. He came to America on a voyage and decided that this was where he wanted his family to live so he bought land and started to build a house and when he ran out of money to build he went back to Norway. He brought his wife to America every time she was to have a baby so that the children could have American citizenship. Then after the birth they would return to Norway. After about 12 years they had enough money and the house was done so the whole family moved to America. Now this took a long time, a lot of planning, a lot of day by day work—but when you stick to your goals you get the reward. Dad says that its plain old guts that makes the difference between success and failure, not just intelligence. But it’s the person with self discipline to see the job to the end that makes the difference.”

Postmarked April 15, 1982
“Dear Todd, I am in shock about Susan moving to Utah…I cannot stand to have my grand children away from me. I haven’t even seen Marie, and Garrit was just getting to know me. He hasn’t even called me grandma yet. But home is where the husbands are. I would go anywhere with Dad because he is my life. Anywhere except Baja that is.” [She just returned from a motor home trip to Baja.]

Postmarked May 26, 1982
“I love the scriptures. I love the word of God and I want to obey all the commandments. I miss your Dad. Oh do I miss him. I couldn’t face eternity without him. I hold his love precious to me.”

Postmarked July 16, 1982
“Dearest Todd, The beauty of this area [Washington] is breath taking, much more beautiful than Hawaii. The trees in every direction as far as you can see and the ferns that are all over the ground. It reminds me, every time I look out the window, of God’s goodness and all things of nature that he has done to beautify this world. This is summer but it rained about four or five times yesterday. A small price for such beauty. I’m so thankful that I live in this beautiful country and that I know and believe the true gospel of Jesus Christ. My life centers around his teachings. Any happiness I have had has been the result of keeping and obeying the principles that Christ has set. I really can do very little to help my children but the Holy Spirit can do everything. My desire is to help my children live their lives so they will be worthy to receive the witness of the Holy Ghost. Believe me, that alone is overwhelming to me.”

Postmarked July 16, 1982 (different letter)
“I am so thankful for my temple marriage and for my wonderful husband. He tries to perceive things the way I see them and visa versa and we try to work out our differences and actually he usually gives in to me more than visa versa. Women kind of love to be spoiled. I know he rules over big things but he lets me rule over little things and it makes me happy. However, he would never deliberately me unhappy. He is very forgiving and doesn’t pout or carry a grudge, etc. He has a short mad memory and not like the elephant memory of a woman. I think I’ll keep him.”



Excerpt From Miscellaneous Letter to Todd


Summer 2003
“It’s too bad that teenage kids go through a certain stage that causes them to be brain dead. I can’t remember who said, ‘If only kids could learn from out mistakes and go on from there.’ I’ve thought of that many times in raising my children. Set the example. Pray always, and love them completely. In these things you do have control. Praise them, teach them, then praise them again with love, build confidence in them—positive teaching only. As a parent you can become discouraged many times. It’s not easy raising children with so many personalities...Speaking of gifts and blessings, I am so thankful for your Dad. Every year he becomes more perfect. He has taken the Priesthood lead in our family. He only uses his time in righteous endeavors. If the Lord called him he wouldn’t feel he had to hide himself for any reason. He is patient, thoughtful, kind, hard working and loving to me. I feel blessed to have him through eternity. We don’t agree on everything. It’s mostly boy and girl things. I like dolls, bows, dishes, things that aren’t broken. I could never be a pioneer. Those people weren’t human. I would be a lump on the ground on the side of the trail. But your Dad likes building forts, sweat running down his face, crawling in a dirty sleeping bag in the dirt, long bike rides with 27 flats. He would be in the lead wagon singing, ‘Come, Come Ye Saints.’ I am reading from this astrology booklet I got at Connie's. Read it if you get a minute. It makes you feel pretty small and unimportant. But if we are, then why could our Father in Heaven give up his only begotten son for me and you. I pray someday the mysteries of the heavens will be available to me. For now, I will try to do what is expected of me. Keep it simple, sincere, and do all things in love. Love, Mom”

My Reflections of Phaedo

[Note to the reader: This post probably reads a little cryptic but some readers might appreciate the parallels between Socrates' asceticism and cosmological myth and the Mormon temple experience which most Latter-day Saints take to be literally true while a minority take it as metaphor. I fall in the latter group. Most readers will understandably overlook this post but this one is dear to my heart.]


My Relections of Phaedo

I recently read Plato’s Phaedo, an account of the dialogues between Socrates and his friends just before Socrates was executed. This story has stayed with me for days and has stirred many spiritual thoughts within me. What follows are a few of my reflections.

Socrates said,

“For ‘many,’ as they say in the mysteries, ‘are the thyrsus-bearers, but few are the mystics,’—meaning, as I interpret the words, ‘the true philosophers.’”

I find it interesting that Socrates refers several times to the “mysteries” (see the Eleusinian, Orphic, Mithraic Mysteries, etc.) because I consider the LDS temple ceremony to be related to the traditions of such mysteries, at least somewhat in its style.

“Thyrsus-bearers” are scepter holders or, in LDS language, “priesthood holders.” The “mystics” are “true philosophers” who “care not for the “pleasures of eating, drinking,…love,… the acquisition of costly raiment(see Matt. 6:25),…or other adornments of the body…he is entirely concerned with the soul and not with the body…he would like, as far as he can, to get away from the body and to turn to the soul…the real philosopher has reason to be of good cheer when he is about to die, and that after death he may hope to obtain the greatest good in the other world.”

(It appears, at least from my 21st century perspective, that Platonic philosophy was the channel through which eastern asceticism exerted its influence in the western Judeo Christian religions as well as Islam.)

Now to restate Socrates more succinctly: “For many are the thyrsus-bearers, but few are the mystics.” In other words, “For many are the scepter-holders, but few the philosophers.” The concept can also be found in Hinduism, for many quest for moksha, but few find liberation from samsara and find nirvana. In Matthew 22:14, “For many are called, but few are chosen.”

Joseph Smith put it this way in D&C 121:34-35:

34 Behold, there are many called, but few are chosen. And why are they not chosen?
35 Because their hearts are set so much upon the things of this world, and aspire to the honors of men, that they do not learn this one lesson…”
36 That the rights of the priesthood are inseparably connected with the powers of heaven, and that the powers of heaven cannot be controlled nor handled only upon the principles of righteousness.

Joseph Smith’s version agrees with Plato but has a more Latter-day appeal.

In other paragraphs Socrates mentioned, the “spirit of prophecy,” “light of truth,” and seeing “through a glass darkly” (I Corinthians 13:12). All three of these terms should be familiar to scripture readers.

It appears that Socrates was influenced by eastern philosophy, that Matthew and Paul read Plato, and that Joseph Smith read Matthew.

Socrates points out that the “rest of the world are of the opinion that to him who has no sense of pleasure and no part in bodily pleasure, life is not worth having; and that he who is indifferent about them is as good as dead.” But the reason for such denial is to disentangle the body from the soul “because each pleasure and pain is a sort of nail which nails and rivets the soul to the body.” Therefore the nails of “fear or pleasure or pain” need to be purged by “temperance, and justice, and courage, and wisdom.” (Reminds me of Gnostic asceticism.)

Socrates makes reference again to the “founders of the mysteries” and regarding their rites “were not talking nonsense when they intimated in a figure long ago that he who passes unsanctified and uninitiated into the world below will lie in a slough, but that he who arrives there after initiation and purification will dwell with the gods.” (Reminds me of LDS endowment ceremony.)

Socrates called such “sanctification” and “initiation,” purification, “And what is purification but the separation of the soul from the body.” The souls who fail to completely disentangle themselves from their bodies take on a ghostly appearance and may haunt tombs. They are “compelled to wander about such places in payment of the penalty of their former evil way of life; and they continue to wander until through the craving after the corporeal which never leaves them, they are imprisoned finally in another body…” (Gnosticism, spirit prison, reincarnation)

The prisons are animal bodies such as asses, wolves, and hawks for the gluttonous, wanton, and drunkard. Better souls can hope for a relatively happy communal existence as a bee, wasp, ant, or human. (Think about the deemphasized doctrine of valiancy in the preexistence.)

“No one who has not studied philosophy and who is not entirely pure at the time of his departure is allowed to enter the company of the gods, but the lover of knowledge only. And this is the reason…why the true votaries of philosophy abstain from all fleshly lusts.” (Gods plural, Greek Pantheon of Gods)

Socrates believed the body to be mortal and the soul to be immortal although he could not prove to himself that the soul could never die. He worried that the soul might grow “weary in the labours of successive births, and may at last succumb in one of her deaths and utterly perish.”

Socrates looked forward to his death with rejoicing because he was anxious to attain that which has been the pursuit of his life. “And therefore I go on my way rejoicing, and not I only, but every other man who believes that his mind has been made ready and the he is in a manner purified.” (Evangelical zeal)

The story took a turn when Socrates started to recount a cosmological myth that enthralled his listeners and filled them with inexplicable joy and hope. On the bottom of eight pages I wrote, “WOW!!!” to describe my reaction to Socrates story. I was equally caught up, quite unexpectedly, by the grandeur of this myth. (Creation myth)

Socrates explained that he had something like a daydream wherein he imagined that he was speaking with Anaxagoras who had all the answers that Socrates desired to know. Socrates imagined that he would first ask Anaxagoras “whether the earth is flat or round.” Then Socrates would next ask about the nature of what is known today as biology, physics, geology, and astronomy. “These hopes [knowledge] I would not have sold for a large sum of money, and I seized the books and read them as fast as I could in my eagerness to know the better and the worse.” Socrates’ hunger for knowledge resonates with me and I reflect that much, but not all, of what Socrates desired to know is available to me in this modern age and I share Socrates’ desire to learn these same things and I have diligently pursued them, in my own way, my entire life.

Socrates described in captivating detail the four principal rivers that circulate oceans above and beneath the earth as they are pushed about by the winds that act like pumps in a manner similar to respiration. There are lakes where souls congregate. There are also lava flows and lava lakes. Souls journey about the underworld—some guided, some unguided. After death all souls who need to be reborn will need to make a journey to a particular lake that serves as a staging are for souls waiting to be reborn. The good souls need a guide to this lake because the path is not well trodden. The bad souls get no such guide and that is why it takes them longer to get back to the staging area.

Socrates calls this process of being “born again from the dead” an ancient doctrine. It is impossible not to see the similarities to the Hindu ideas of samsara, reincarnation, and karma. (Resurrection)

Wow!!!

Imagine the stone silence of Socrates’ friends as they listened enthralled. Then Socrates broke the spell of the myth and bore humble testimony that even though the myth was not literally true, the truth had to be something like it. Socrates’ own words are worthy of being quoted at length but I realize that a person without my background may not get nearly the same impact from them. The following quotes really spoke to me:

“A man of sense ought not to say, nor will I be very confident, that the description which I have given of the soul and her mansions is exactly true. But I do say…that something of the kind is true. The venture is a glorious one, and he ought to comfort himself with words like these, which is the reason why I lengthen out the tale. Wherefore, I say, let a man be of good cheer about his soul.”

“In the number of the [true philosophers] whom, during my whole life, I have been seeking, according to my ability, to find a place:--whether I have sought in a right way or not, and whether I have succeeded or not, I shall truly know in a little while, if God will, when I myself arrive in the other world—such is my belief…for I believe that I shall equally find good masters and friends in another world.”

“…the soul is in the very likeness of the divine,…”

“…and for ever dwells, as they say of the initiated, in company with the gods.”

Then Socrates warns his intellectual followers about becoming cynical, although he couldn’t have used that word yet as the cynics hadn’t been established. I will quote Socrates again at length because his words resonate with me in ways that I have not yet been able to articulate adequately.

“…when a simple man who has no skill in dialectics believes an argument to be true which he afterwards imagines to be false, whether really false or not, and then another, and then another, he has not longer any faith left, and great disputers, as you know, come to think at last that they have grown to be the wisest of mankind; for they alone perceive the utter unsoundness and instability of all arguments, or indeed, of all things, which, like the currents in the Euripus, are going up and down in never-ceasing ebb and flow.”

…and how melancholy, if there be such a thing as truth or certainty or possibility of knowledge—that a man should have lighted upon some argument or other which at first seemed true and then turned out to be false, and instead of blaming himself and his own want of wit, because he is annoyed, should at last be too glad to transfer the blame from himself to arguments in general: and for ever afterwards should hate and revile them, and lose truth and the knowledge of realities.

“…but if there be nothing after death, still, during the short time that remains, I shall not distress my friends with lamentations, and my ignorance will not last, but will die with me, and therefore no harm will be done.

“…that I may not deceive you as well as myself in my enthusiasm, and like the bee, leave my sting in you before I die.”

The End.

Marriage

[Kristina's hand.] Somewhere in my childhood I was taught to look forward to a temple marriage, a celestial marriage, a “marriage for time and all eternity.” I was taught to keep myself morally clean and faithful to my future wife throughout all the intervening years before I should ever meet her. Like all young people I suffered the struggles of loneliness and premature desire. I prayed to Heavenly Father and told Him that I wanted a good wife someday.

Pam and I got married December 17, 1983 and I have been saying ever since that that was the best day of my life. Our wedding and two receptions were relatively modest and I don’t remember much about the guests that attended but never before and never since have people gathered in my honor, bearing gifts, to wish me well. The very best gift of all was my beautiful bride that I unwrapped on our honeymoon night. We both stood naked, side by side, looking at ourselves in the full-length mirror. Adam and Eve.

For our honeymoon we drove from Provo to my parents’ house in Carlsbad. We planned a daytrip to see the Queen Mary in Long Beach but when we got there we thought the ticket prices were too expensive and so we gazed a few minutes at the ship from the dock and then left. Looking back I realize how poor we were then but we never felt poor because we always had hope and a plan to better ourselves and our financial situation.

Now, some 20 plus years later, my older kids are entering the age of relationships which causes me to reflect on the hazards of young people—so uninformed, so naïve, so unrealistic, so foolish, so impulsive—looking for love and companionship. I see a large segment of society has lost hope in traditional marriage yet I think most people still root for a love story with a happy ending. Worse, I see the moral attitudes of young people to be self-destructive and not leading to lasting happiness. Letting sexual impulses rule one’s life seems to be no different than letting hard drugs rule one’s life. While on TV we sometimes see advertisements that send a warning message, “Just Say NO to Drugs,” society has not yet reached the point where it can articulate the downside of misguided sexuality.

Some months ago I was reading a philosophy book by Will Durant, an atheist. Towards the end of the book Durant wrote about youth and love. Much to my surprise his words resonated with me in a way that “churchy” voices rarely do any more. I felt moved as I read his words and I felt an inner confirmation that the path that I had chosen was correct and still the best path to teach to my children.

“Youth, if it were wise, would cherish love beyond all things else, keeping body and soul clean for its coming, lengthening its days with months of betrothal, sanctioning it with a marriage of solemn ritual, making all things subordinate to it resolutely. Wisdom, if it were young, would cherish love, nursing it with devotion, deepening it with sacrifice, vitalizing it with parentage, making all things subordinate to it till the end. Even though it consumes us in its service and overwhelms us with tragedy, even though it breaks us down with its passing and weighs us down with separations, let it be first.”

-Will Durant, The Pleasures of Philosophy, Page 401