Kindle or Dwindle

This morning at the Detention Center one of the Youth, Bobby, gave the lesson at Church. We hold worship services with the kids down there every Sunday. They choose whether or not to attend. Most choose to participate. Lately, three different young men have volunteered to teach the lesson. Each time, they've done marvelously. Their lessons have been heartfelt, insightful, correct and inspiring.

When we read about these "hoodlums" in the paper, we automatically think the worst. Consequently, I try to avoid reading about them in the paper. At the Center, I just see kids, good kids. I rarely have a clue what they've done. Going by the severity of their punishments, I'm not blind to the fact that they've committed, some of them, horrendous crimes. I would just rather deal with them without tainting my view with details.

My calling is to love them not to change them. I am not able to change them and would be foolish to try. This is a new experience for most of them though. Most of them have lived their entire lives with someone on their case; someone trying to change them; someone disapprovingly yelling at them. I get to love them just the way they are and I tell them so. The irony is, they change. Why is this? It's simple. When someone tries to change them they resist. They rebel. From there they decline into despair, bitterness, feelings of unworthiness. In contrast, when someone loves and accepts them just as they are, warts and all, they thrive. They feel hope and begin to see possibilities, opportunities and they change. They change themselves.

Who among us needs to be told what we're doing wrong? Don't we already know? Who among us wouldn't rather do better? Wouldn't we rather be helped to do better than punished for not?

So look at Bobby and Don and Chase. Kids in prison for serious crimes for which they are suffering the consequences - appropriately. Look at them again. Kids who delight in teaching the gospel and lifting the lives and hearts of their fellow men and women. What precipitated their bad behavior? What stimulated the good?

The Nephites often dwindled in unbelief. When I think of dwindle I think of a campfire at the end of the evening. Once roaring, hot, bright and delightful, it dwindles to nothing and we fade away to sleep in our bags. In the morning, a few sparks remain, a little tinder is added, fuel supplied, a few puffs and walla! Fire again blazes to our warmth and delight. People dwindle like fires. Deprived of fuel like love, inspiration and possibilities they dwindle and die. Instead of throwing the cold water of chastisement on such dwindling souls, why don't we kindle them back to life with the breath of love, the tinder of kindness and the fuel of opportunity and encouragement.

We, in our effort to help are often too quick to chastise the wayward. Recently, I attended the Baptist Church of my good friend Pastor Jim. In his sermon he taught a wonderful lesson that I shall always be grateful for. He was discoursing on Hebrews chapter 10 verse 25. He said that one of the values of meeting together was the need for good old fashioned exhortation. Now, before we go on, all my life I equated the term exhortation with chastisement. Chastise means to censure severely or castigate. Now, listen to what Pastor Jim taught. From the Greek, exhort, in this context, means to call near, or call alongside. In other words it means, "Come, join me, walk with me, feel of my love, put your arm around me and let me put mine around you. Let's do this together." Will we throw the cold water of chastisement or will we breathe the warm breath of exhortation.

The fire is in them, every one. Be they prisoners, or students, or neighbor kids or our own sons and daughters, they will dwindle if we don't kindle.

Babylon is Falling - Let Her Go

Yesterday a cherished friend stopped by. My friend is a man of great faith. But....he's been Hannitized, and so every time I see him, he is griping about the state of things in America. The result is constant, unproductive complaining, fault finding and criticism. My friend has become a pessimist.

I've spent some time since that meeting contemplating how to encourage my poor pessimistic friend. As I pondered a strong impression set my mind on an interesting course. Babylon is falling!

Babylon is falling. Do we want to prevent that? The "great and spacious building" is teetering. Are we trying to prop it up? Is our anxiousness, about the state of things, a corollary to our connection to Babylon? When it falls, which it surely will, will that hurt us? What is Babylon? Is the United States Babylon? Is not the US and her constitution worth saving? Worth fighting for? Is Wall Street Babylon? Is China? Hamas? Israel?

My morning walk was filled with such questions.

I think I have a few answers. First, Babylon is not a place. Babylon is a state of mind. A quality of character. Babylon is composed of her citizens and the way in which those citizens see the world. Babylon is not confined to America, Wall Street, China, Baghdad or any place else. Babylon is those who subscribe to her values. I recently reviewed a book on this blog called The Three Deceivers, by Richard Eyre. I think he hit the nail right on the head - Babylon is a paradigm of Control, Ownership and Independence. Those who subscribe to and put their trust in that paradigm are Babylon. Don't forget Babylon is falling.

Second, Babylon, as a paradigm, is not worth saving. Babylon cannot be saved. It is on a collision course with destiny and it will fall. The only course of action for her citizens is to cancel their subscription and flee to Zion. Remember, we are not speaking of a geographical place here. Fleeing to Zion can be done without taking a physical step. Fleeing to Zion can and should be done right where we are.

Third, there is no point in trying to destroy Babylon. It will destroy itself. The "large and spacious" building is condemned, abandon it. It will collapse of it's own accord.

Fourth, any pain we feel as a result of the fall of Babylon will be because of some grasp we still hold on the place (paradigm.) That and mourning for the souls who remain trapped in the rubble.

So, what is to be done? Flee to Zion! Abandon Babylon completely, if you are not there, it's fall will not hurt you. How is this done? Adopt a new paradigm. Hopefully, you'll soon read Eyre's book. I'll be spilling the beans a bit here. Give up the notions represented by Control, Ownership and Independence and choose to see the world through the lens of Serendipity, Stewardship and Synergicity. (You'll have to read the book to fully understand what that means.) For now, suffice it to say that this Zion paradigm is one in which God is in charge, possessions are gifts, and people are vital partners and fellow travelers in the journey of life. Zion is the pure in heart. Zion is full of faith. Zion doesn't cling to the material things of this world. Zion trusts in God rather than the arm of the flesh. Zion is redeemed through the Atonement of Jesus Christ.

If you find yourself fearing or even mourning the demise of Babylon, it is because to some degree you are still there. Babylon is falling, let her go. Come to Zion and rejoice in Babylon's prophesied destruction. Does this mean the end of the United States? Heavens no. Does this mean we quit standing up for correct principles and the Constitution, absolutely not. We don't have to be wreckers though, let's be builders. As we build Zion, we build, defend and protect all that is good around us. Every person who has adopted the Zion paradigm is one less person of the Babylon mind set. People are crossing the border all the time. Sadly, many, even in the church, remain in Babylon. You can hear the terror in their voices. Zion is not the church. Zion is the pure in heart. Come to Zion.

Sean Hannity is a nice man. I think much of what he is about is good. I often hear him say, "Let not your heart be troubled." He probably means it, but every one I talk to, who listens to his programs, seems to have a troubled heart, to be pessimistic. I think that's because they've got the wrong paradigm. They're trying to save Babylon and they're barking up the wrong tree. There is only one way to keep Christ's commandment to "let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid" and that's to come to Zion. Which is to be in the world but not of it; to stop clinging to what we think we deserve and start viewing life as a gift and a stewardship; to stop condemning those still in Babylon, but rather, inviting them to Zion, rejoicing. Babylon is about fear, fear of loss. Zion is about love and abundance.

Babylon is falling, let her go.

It's How You Play the Game

Last night I was enjoying a re-run of Northern Exposure. Holling Vincoeur got fed up with everyone's obsession with baseball on TV and declared it to be, "piddly, inconsequential goings on!"

I cheered!

I have been cross threaded with sports for most of my life. As a young man all we did at Mutual was play basketball and I sat the bench, even in practice. I was slight, uncoordinated, and just didn't get sports. I couldn't throw a baseball. I was afraid to catch one. The concept of risking and experiencing pain for the fun of sport was totally mystifying to me. The humiliation of my inevitably poor performance was as repulsive to me as crying in public might have been to my father, but he was totally blind to it.

I couldn't even stand to be a fan of sports. It boggled my mind that we who couldn't make the team were expected to show up and worship and encourage those who did. To me it was just "piddly, inconsequential goings on." I remember reminding a friend who was grieving a big BYU loss that, "a billion Chinese don't even care." And neither did I. It was absolutely no consolation to him.

My friend Bobby mellowed my disdain for sports a good deal. He called me one day and invited me to come watch his kids play ball at the Fort Duchesne gym. I took Aly with me and we drove over to spend a Saturday morning. I felt like Adrian Monk at a 49er's game. A fish flopping on the bank. I found Bobby and a seat right behind him. He shook my hand and I asked him who we were cheering for. He looked at me with the most puzzled look and answered, "Why, everyone, of course."

I have never enjoyed such basketball! Those Native American kids were having a blast! Their skills, enthusiasm, comaraderie, were awesome. I'd watched the occasional Jazz game. Those pro players looked jaded, even bored. Rarely, did they play with what I'd call joy and vivacity. They played more like machines. Their play seemed more like work. They played like they were chasing carrots.

Not so in Fort Duchesne. These kids played for the love of playing. Fouls were practically none existent. Deliberate fouls were unthinkable. It had nothing to do with winning or losing. Everything to do with having a good time. I still can't quite put my finger on the way they competed without being competetive.

I play volleyball most Wednesday nights with the next generation of those kids. It is still the same way. There is even room and fun for an old klutz like me. Perhaps it is a cultural thing with the indigenous Americans, who seem to intrinsically get that it is not whether you win or lose, but how you play the game. Perhaps it is for this reason we seldom see their talent on High School or College courts where it is no longer play and no longer a game. Perhaps it is for this reason that the best basketball I've ever watched is still I big secret kept tucked away in a little reservation town.

Another paradigm shift came when I became associated with Curg. Curg played strong safety for BYU and the Washington Redskins. I have no idea what a strong safety is. He remains a loyal BYU fan. Yet somehow, he is different. At first I thought it came of the confidence that having been an All American and a Pro afforded; he has nothing to prove. But I later could see that for Curg, sports was not the end all, be all of his life. He is humbly grateful for the experience. He sees sports as an opportunity, not a pedestal. He is not the rabid fan who cajoles and insults those who wear red. Nor is he that fan who rails against a player who stumbles on the field. His disappointments sigh over players who stumble in life.

For Bobby and Curg sports are hardly piddly or inconsequential; though they might be if they were only about superiority and final scores and money and arrogance and pride. It turns out that they are not merely about those things but can also be about fellowship and brotherhood and courage and commitment and development and motivation and opportunity and joy.

Manipulating God?

I am currently unemployed; have been for over a month. The RV Dealership I had been working for went out of business; a casualty of these tough economic times. This morning my optimistic view of things was faltering a bit. I went back and dug up a post I wrote in an abandoned blog. It strengthened and reinforced me. I thought I'd include it here as it was written a little over a year ago:

Recently I began a new career. I often, in this new setting, feel like a fish out of water. Because of the nature of this new occupation, I'm not guaranteed a steady income. It has been an enormous learning experience to encounter life with such uncertain parameters.

A couple of weeks ago, I found myself down to the final day of a pay period. Only one day to make enough money to make ends meet. I woke up early, worrying about it. I was concerned that I'd made a mistake in choosing this occupation. I worried that in order to succeed at a livable wage, I might have to compromise my principles. I feared that I just wasn't cut out to succeed at such work.

I concluded that for the immediate future, I had no recourse but to carry on - at least until I found another job. The pressing need was to close a deal in the next twelve hours. I decided to fast and pray to that end.

I knelt in prayer, initiated a sincere heartfelt fast and plead earnestly with the Lord to bring me success in my efforts. What happened next surprised me. It shouldn't have, but it did. I heard the Spirit whisper, "Would you manipulate God?" I was bewildered! Am I manipulating God? How? Then, in my heart I heard, "I thought fasting was an act of surrender, an expression of humility, a manifestation of your willingness to submit your will to that of your Heavenly Father. You seem to be using it, instead, to twist His arm into granting and sustaining your will."

A kind and loving Father had gently chastened me. He had kindly taught me a most wonderful principle. He had reminded me that, "His hand is stretched out" to me, would I take it and twist? Do I want things my way so badly, that I would attempt to manipulate God into granting my desires, even if they are contrary to His will?

I mentioned before that I should have known this, should have been sensitive to this manipulative tendency that I have. Years ago while reading Gandhi an autobiography, I encountered his description of an occasion that also involved fasting. Chapter 36 is called Fasting and Penance. Here Gandhi discovers that a couple of students in his Ashram have fallen into sin. He feels responsible to an, apparently large, degree. Gandhi decides to embark upon a lengthy fast, as penance for his failure. He says, "My penance pained everybody, but it cleared the atmosphere. Everyone came to realize what a terrible thing it was to be sinful, and the bond that bound me to the boys and girls became stronger and truer."

I do not doubt Gandhi's sincerity here. I am quite sure he did feel somehow responsible for the fall of the sinful ones. My concern is that his method, whether sincere or not, must surely have had the result of putting the students on a serious guilt trip. Had his penance been done in secret, God, "who seeth in secret," would indeed have rewarded him openly.

Putting folks on guilt trips is clearly manipulative and because of it's nature falls outside God's plan of agency. Manipulation is controlling and primarily done to the advantage of the manipulator. "I will redeem all mankind, that one soul shall not be lost, and surely I will do it: wherefore give me thine honor." Sound familiar?

I returned to my fast, with new intentions. "I will cheerfully submit to Thy will oh, Father." Then I proceeded into my day with no agenda other than to do His will and keep His commandments.

Friends, God is entirely predisposed in our favor. His doings are always with the intent to assist us in our journey home. If that calls for failure in my current venture, so be it. All I need to do is my best and He will gladly bring me home. It doesn't matter to me what course he leads me on, to that Heavenly end. In fact it is quite an adventure.

So, I quit twisting His arm, and just took his hand.... and.... everything worked out just fine.