How Much Does it Cost?

I just watched The Patriot with a few friends and a family. The feeling I had by the end was rather hard to describe. The movie produces a flood of diverse emotions. I have a rough draft of a poem; I was trying to articulate my thoughts, but I think perhaps many of my thoughts and feelings were lost in transit. Here is the draft. Please read it slowly.

How much does it cost?

How many men, and how many women?

How many have fought in the front lines?

How many have died on the cusp of an overflowing cup,

Two or more mouths slurping for something in it?

Land. Wealth. Power.

How many have perished by fire and ball?

By powder and bullet?

How many have lost their lives, protecting those they loved?

The freedom they loved.

The country they loved.

How many nations have been caught in the cup,

And consumed in the greedy slurp for something?

And how many men, women, children, have died in an assault?

Be it revolutionary,

civil,

international,

Or worldwide,

Never mind their nationality.

How many have died?

What have we lost in war?

I have seen a man as he healed his enemy,

Bound up his bullet wounds and fed him.

And I have seen men surrender

Only be cut down by the sword and the bayonet.

There is goodness in our race.

It is small.

It is frail.

But it exists. Even in the midst of war, it exists.

And in a nation without war, it still exists in frailty.

So what is lost in war?

What is gained?

Let us consider the price.

Please consider the price. Please take the time at least to remember our fallen troops. And the fallen troops of the nations we have fought. What has been gained in war? I'm sure some will say that we have gained our freedom, and we have gained our independence, and we have gained democracy for others, and we have gained safety. I completely agree. These things we have gained, and we should be grateful for them.

But what have we lost? How many lives have been spent? Young men in our earlier years; boys; teenagers. They could have built families. They could have lived out their lives had they lived on. Alas, they did not get the chance. Husbands and fathers as well, their families lost them. Their children had to live without. And now, today, husbands, wives, fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, sons and daughters go to war and they give their lives.

I wish there had been another way; without the loss of so many. But our history dictates the tragedy as it happened. History is the way which was taken. Now what will you do? We have a country with freedom, and justice, and goodness.

I know others who will disagree with me. They will say that our current state is not the way it should be perhaps our leaders are not the ones we would like. Perhaps our laws are not aligned with our desires, and perhaps there are factors which, as we see it, are not in agreement with the governing principles of this nation, and we have some changing to do. To you I say, yes. We do indeed have progress to make. We have good things to earn and bad things to expel from this country. But I ask you to stop, and look for a moment not at the future, but at the past and the present. Just for a moment. Consider what has been lost and what has been gained. What was the price for what we earned? When you work harder to gain something, you consider it more valuable. Many of us were born into this country. We do not have a clear understanding or respect for our freedom. But we must. So much has been lost for the amount gained. We need to remember our fallen; the men, women, and children, whose lives have been lost in the horror of war, and the men and women who have fought to give us something. On all sides. Every nation. Let's remember them, and respect their sacrifice; their contribution to our nation.

The Good Samaritan

So I said I'd do a post every Sunday on what I taught in Primary. Here it is. We talked about the Parable of the Good Samaritan today. I showed this clip I had seen a few months ago (bottom of the web page in the link). It's a rather interesting representation of the parable.
So, what did we talk about? I'd first like to point out that much of this is nothing more than my personal interpretation. There is a possibility that it is correct, but I didn't get it from an General Authority's talk or anything.


What we talked about: As you probably know, in every one of Jesus' parables there is what seems to be just a story on the surface. But as you look deeper, you find layers of symbolism which mean so much more. That is why it is a parable. The parable of the Good Samaritan, if you have never read it or would like to read it again, can be found here. In any case, in my university religion classes, my teacher(s) have often said that sometimes we think that we are the good guys in the parable (the father in the Prodigal Son, the samaritan in the Good Samaritan, and so on), when really, we are often the ones who are worst off (The Prodigal Son in the parable by the same name, the Jewish man in the Good Samaritan). So when I read the parable in preparation I started there:


Jewish Man = Us.


Those teachers have also emphasized that the savior (or the 'good guys' I have mentioned) in the parables is the Savior.


Good Samaritan = Savior
Jewish Man = Us


That was really about as far as I got beforehand. Which is a reflection on how unprepared I often am. I am grateful that the spirit was there, and he made up the difference. I am also grateful for my class. They are brilliant. They directed the discussion exactly where I was thinking it should go (hopefully that was where it was supposed to go). I put the characters in the parable up on the board, and asked them (after we read the parable and showed the video) who was representative of who. They got the first question (Who is the Jewish man?) in a heartbeat. And with a little prodding, they identified the Samaritan as the Savior. Then we moved on. I decided to sort of ignore for a moment the Priest, Levite, and thieves in the story, and just focus on the Samaritan, the Jewish Man, and the Host of the Inn. I asked them, about the Inn and the Host and what they thought they were. One of them said the host was the prophet. I thought that was an interesting observation. I imagined the Inn and Host to be the church as a whole, not a single person. And I think that the Host could be a Bishop or Stake President as well. The Savior finds someone in need of help, and he brings them to the church, and a Bishop helps them work through their difficulties personally. But I think that the identification of the Host as the prophet is interesting. The Savior brings a person in need of repentance to the church, wherein he can learn from the words of the current prophet and president of the church, and be healed be following those words; the words which the Savior has commanded him to speak.
The other things I felt I should point out were the actions of the Samaritan. It says in the parable:

33But a certain ^aSamaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was: and when he saw him, he had ^bcompassion on him,

 34And went to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine, and set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took ^acare of him.

 35And on the morrow when he departed, he took out two pence, and gave them to the ^ahost, and said unto him, Take care of him; and whatsoever thou spendest more, when I come again, I will repay thee.

How can these events be compared to what the Savior does for us in our own lives?

We compared the binding of the wounds to the way Christ heals us when we have sinned. I would compare paying the Host to the Atonement. Christ has paid for what we need. There are three things the Samaritan does which I don’t think really need to be scrutinized for symbolism: Christ has compassion on us. He comes to us, and He takes care of us.

After putting the parable in this light, I suggested (and I’m not entirely sure about interpreting it this way), that we are supposed to become like the Samaritan. We are commanded in the scriptures, “Therefore I would that ye should be ^aperfect even as I, or your Father who is in heaven is perfect.” (3 Nephi 12:48. Also Matthew 5:48), and “Wherefore, my beloved brethren, pray unto the Father with all the energy of heart, that ye may be filled with this love, which he hath bestowed upon all who are true followers of his Son, Jesus Christ; that ye may become the sons of God; that when he shall appear we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is; that we may have this hope; that we may be purified even as he is pure. Amen.” (Moroni 7:48) Additional scriptures: 3 Nephi 27:21, 27

Our goal is to become like Christ. If the Samaritan in the story symbolizes Christ, then isn’t that where we should desire to be in the parable? We should be bringing the wounded to the church, helping them to heal, and whether or not others pass by them, we need to make an effort to lift and help them. I testify that the Book of Mormon is true. I know that the Savior lives and loves me, and that Heavenly Father and the Holy Ghost also live. They are separate beings, but are united in purpose, and play the most significant of roles in our lives. If you are not a member of the church, I invite you to PLEASE investigate it. Read the Book of Mormon. You don’t even need to buy a copy; the church will give you one for free. Read it, and then take Moroni 10:4-5 seriously and ask about it. You will find an answer as to the truth of the church.

Memorizing Shakespeare Soliloquys

I had a fun little experience a week or so ago (perhaps two weeks) when I was walking into the Taylor building going to one of my classes. In the hall, I spotted an acquaintance of mine helping another student memorize a soliloquy for Shakespeare’s Macbeth. Now, I had read Macbeth in my Jr. Honors English class in High School, and we were asked to memorize that soliloquy. My teacher told us NOT to memorize it to a tune or anything, and I think that her reason was that it wasn’t an effective form of memorization or something. My friend and I promptly proceeded to memorize it to the popular LDS primary tune, “Popcorn Popping on the Apricot Tree.” And I am proud to say that, 2 or 3 years later, I still have it completely memorized.

Now, I love Mrs. Madsen, she was a great teacher, and I felt sad to see her retire: other students who came after me would not be able to have her as a teacher. She did a great job, and I think others share my sentiments. But if her reasons for having us try to memorize the soliloquy without a song were that it was not effective, I am here to tell you that it was.

As I passed this student whom I did not know, and as she struggled with the final line, “full of sound and fury…” I said, almost conversationally, “signifying nothing,” and walked on. My acquaintance said something to the effect of, “Gabe, you’re so cool,” as I left, and I felt pretty awesome about it. Like I’m fitting into an English niche, which is my aim.

But, hey, it’s not me. It’s memorization to a tune. So anyone can be so awesome. :)

            Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day to the last syllable of recorded time. And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to a dusty death. Out! Out, brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow; a poor player who struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury signifying nothing.

It's an effective mode of memorization, people. And it sticks with you.

Stake Conference

Let me just start by saying that it's REALLY IMPORTANT to have the ability and the skill to articulate your feelings accurately. This is not something I think I have. It's hard for me to finish a gathering or something and even to know myself exactly what I'm feeling. And that's not necessarily in a good context. What I'm feeling at this moment is not the spirit. I'm feeling anger and confusion and loss. If these are things which you would prefer not to read about, please feel free to navigate your cursor up to that little x that closes the tab in which this blog resides and promptly click your mouse.
Let's start THIS portion of the blog, now that most of you have left, by letting me admit that I have a Pride problem. I have a pride problem. There. I said it. With that in mind, you are allowed to continue reading.
I started Stake Conference listening to the youth Choir practicing the pieces they were going to sing for the meeting. It pained me a little that I wasn't up there, supporting them with my voice as well. But I didn't go to the practices, and I make the excuse that I've been busy with college, which is a true statement. During the time when I was listening to the choir, I wrote in my little planner some thoughts I was having. I've been wondering if I have been prepared for the receipt of the Melchizedek Priesthood, for which I was sustained today (and if you think I'm being self-righteous by writing this in my blog, you go ahead and think that), and I asked myself the questions of, "Why do I do what I do?" and, "Why do I believe what I believe?" Recently my family and I have discussed a quote by C. S. Lewis, which involves the analogy of rats in a cellar. It is as follows:
“We begin to notice, besides our particular sinful acts, our sinfulness; begin to be alarmed not only about what we do, but about what we are. This may sound rather difficult, so I will try to make it clear from my own case. When I come to my evening prayers and try to reckon up the sins of the day, nine times out of ten the most obvious one is  some sin against charity; I have sulked or snapped or sneered or snubbed or stormed.  And the excuse  that immediately springs to my mind is that the provocation was so sudden and unexpected: I was caught off my guard, I had not time to collect myself.  Now that may be an extenuating circumstance as regards those particular  acts: they would obviously be worse if they had been deliberate and premeditated.  On the other hand, surely what a man does when he is taken off his guard is the best evidence for what sort of a man he is? Surely what pops out before the man has time to put on a disguise is the truth? If there are rats in a cellar you are most likely to see them if you go in very suddenly.  But the suddenness does not create the rats:  it only prevents them from hiding. In the same way the suddenness of the provocation does not make me an ill-tempered man:  it only shows me what an ill-tempered man I am.  The rats are  always there  in the cellar, but if you go in shouting and noisily they will have taken cover before you switch on the light."
I've got rats in my cellar, people. This post will probably indicate that. In any case, I asked myself what those rats were? Why did I do what I did? What are the reasons for my actions, at their very core? I concluded that the only reason I am ever polite or well-dressed or clean is because I want to impress people and not to offend them. And the only reason I do that is because I want people to like me. I asked myself other questions including, "Why am I a member of the church...in all seriousness?" and, "Why am I going on a mission?" There were rats. I asked myself, "Under different social circumstances, would I act/believe differently? Do I have a testimony? Do I really love the Lord so much that I want to serve him [which should be the reason anyone goes on a mission, in my opinion]? Or is it something else?" I don't know the answer. I'm not sure why I do things. Then my pride problem stepped in. If any of you people who I am about to mention read my blog, please just know that this is how I was feeling:
I had been the only guy sitting in the row where I was sitting, and the only other guy who I knew was being sustained was on the stand with the choir members (I continued to feel like dirt). Then, several young men, one or two at a time, began to sit in my row. As I recognized them, I thought to myself, "Are these guys really worthy of what they are about to be sustained for?"
Pride problem.
You see, I deem the majority of jocks as being jerks, and the majority of the people who were in my high school in the same category. At least, most of the guys, anyway. I just feel like they don't live their lives the way they ought to. So I looked at these guys, who I identified in such light, and wondered if they were really worthy. If they had worked as hard as I had to receive the Priesthood.
And then I looked at myself, after a time. Had I worked hard? I have not received my Duty to God award, or my Eagle Scout award. Had these guys gotten them? Had they earned them the way the were supposed to? How important are these things to becoming an Elder? Were they asked by their bishop after they earned these awards to come in and be interviewed? I had to ask my bishop when I could start my mission papers. Did he ask them when they could come into his office so he could talk to them about being Elders? During the actual sustaining, the name of one of the members of my Priest's quorum was called, and he stood. I had not realized that he was being sustained an Elder. He is only just about to graduate this week. I know he had earned both the aforementioned rewards. Did the bishop call him in (he was really the one who triggered that line of questioning)? What took so long for me to receive the Priesthood? When I think now, I suppose that he did call me in and I requested extra time so I could earn my Duty to God award. But I didn't earn it. Are those who did more worthy than I? If I had just accepted the opportunity then, could I have been of more use? What took me so long?
So, here I was, having all these thoughts and asking questions, to which I still do not know the answer. There were a few other things that made my conference experience rather negative, but perhaps it was just the way that I reacted to them.
On a more positive note, I did feel like there were things in Stake Conference that definitely pertained to me, and which I wrote down. Hope they help me to improve. And I hope this post wasn't just toally depressing to all of you who stuck around to read it.
So, bottom line: Am I worthy to be receiving the Melchizedek Priesthood? Probably not as worthy as those other young men whom I was actively judging and criticizing.

The Parables of the Lost Sheep, the Lost Coin, and the Prodigal Son, and other things

So, I had the idea recently that I should just post every Sunday on the lesson that I taught or participated in for my primary class (I teach primary; the 11-year-old boys with another brother in the ward, Mike Tatum). So the lesson today was on the Parables of the Lost Sheep, the Lost Coin, and the Prodigal Son. There were some interesting insights had in the class. I will talk about those in the following paragraph. There are some other things I've been considering blogging about, and things I have been thinking about: namely, Thor, my cat's life and death, and... other stuff. I can't remember, I just remember there were things I wanted to blog about. But if you feel like anticipating posts, those topics are, I suppose, to be anticipated. In any case:
The parables we talked about in class today can be found in Luke 15 in the Bible.
For those of you who don't know, or who don't really feel like reading them, I can give a summary of these parables:
In the parable of the Lost Sheep, Jesus asks who, in the crowd he is teaching, or of all men, if he has a hundred sheep and loses one, will leave the ninety and nine to go find the one, and when he finds it will celebrate and bring his friends together and ask them to celebrate with him that he has found the sheep. The parable of the Lost Coin is sort of the same story, but with a woman who has 10 coins and loses one. Will she not look all over the house to find it, and when she finds it, bring her friends together and ask them to rejoice with her? I assume you have all heard the parable of the Prodigal Son, and if you haven't you should really just read it, and you should probably just read the others anyway.
One way I was able to apply this story to my own knowledge involved the boy being willing to eat the feed he was giving the pigs. I have a family that runs a sheep farm on the outskirts of the county. I was helping my cousin dig out some metal during the winter on the side of one of the buildings, and we found a bucket, the contents of which were rotten sheep milk. It was solid by this point; probably had the consistency of ice cream. They had been considering buying a pig, and my cousin said he would probably just feed that to the pigs when they got it. How hungry or desperate would you have to be to be willing to eat that? I might not eat it at all. In any case, from what I know of pigs, they'll eat anything. For the son to be willing to just eat what the pigs were eating is kind of incredible.
Another thought which came to me about these parables was that every parable includes a celebration at the discovery of that which was lost, but that is where the first two parables stop. In the third, there is another side story: the story of the elder brother and how he reacts to the celebration and welcome  because of the son's return. In each parable, there are three main characters or groups, but only in the third parable does the third character/group react. The characters are:
The Savior, who celebrates at the discovery of the lost: The shepherd, the woman, and the father.
The Lost, who comes back into the fold: The lost sheep, the lost coin, and the prodigal son.
and The Ones not Lost: The 99 sheep, the 9 coins, and the elder brother.
In the parable of the Prodigal Son, the brother reacts. It says that he is working in the field, and then when he comes back to the house, he hears and sees signs of a celebration, and asks someone what's going on. And the person says that the man's brother is back, and the father has killed the fatted calf, and everyone is celebrating. The brother is immediately resentful. We hope the problem is resolved when he speaks with his father later.
As I began to relate the story to myself and my students, it was established in my mind that we were the Lost and that we could take the position of the ones not lost. We are always the lost. None of us is perfect, and we all make mistakes. But I think sometimes we see ourselves, as members of the church, as being the Ones not Lost, and, though I've never been in a situation where one who was lost comes back and is celebrated, I do think that I have a tendency to condemn those who are lost, and I don't think I would jump to celebrate someone who returned. So though that has not been manifested or proved to myself in my life, I don't think I would do it.
I also, as I was speaking, looked over at my fellow teacher, brother Tatum, and realized that we can also be the father of the story, as we grow and have responsibility over people. As a parent, we are exactly in the situation of the Prodigal Son's father every time our children make decisions. I don't know what that's like yet, but I can see how that can be symbolic of us.
So there's my blog for the day. Maybe I'll write another one on another topic if I have time today.

In Memoriam

Our beloved cat, Mendelssohn, died this afternoon. He contracted some sort of bone cancer, and we did not know what the problem was for several weeks. We were advised to put him down, and we did that. Fortunately, we were able to say goodbye to him before he left. We know he's in a better place now. It's been said that Joseph Smith expected to have his favorite horse in eternity. Our religion suggests that animals also have spirits just as we do, and will be resurrected along with us. We are sad to see our cat go, and it hurts us, but we know he is in a better place, and we anticipate the time when we can see him again.

Mendelssohn
Found July 2004 - Died May 13, 2011
Rest in Peace, little buddy. We love you.

Quick Apology

I apologize, I have said that I would try to post every week but this last one was a little hectic. I'll get in a post or two by the end of this one. Though I'm not sure that those of you who read my blog are waiting on the edge of your seats or anything. :)

PHIL 110

So, I've been feeling like my philosophy class has been wearing on me a little bit. On my beliefs. And I go to a school funded by and completely ingrained with the beliefs of my church. I've been feeling some ambiguity toward the teacher, though, and having some questions about what he's trying to accomplish by asking us certain questions or saying certain things. Is he just trying to fire us up so we'll go after the questions he's asking and object reasonably? I wouldn't put it past him. So I considered objecting to his overall apparent stance in a philosophical way, and then I felt like that was to drop down a level to fight (the level I'm at being stubborn statement of testimony), like going from civilized conversation to a brawl. Au contraire. Though I don't know what level philosophical reasoning is at, compared to stubborn testimony, it's definitely not below it. We were told in class that we might be seriously examining our beliefs, and I was anxious about that. In any case, I felt as though I should begin fighting on a philosophical level. How in the world is anyone going to accept what I believe if I don't have something of their standard to back it with? While I was working yesterday, I began reasoning with myself why I believed in God. Now, if you are still reading this, I WANT COMMENTS. I am confident that I'll be able to think about any objections and consider them and come to a meaningful conclusion. A second opinion is always helpful. If you have questions, objections, or even comments in assent, please post them.
I decided to start with "Why do I believe in God?" or, perhaps, "What would be good reasons to believe in God?" I concluded that a good reason to believe in God could be that a lot of people do (though that isn't very solid, don't worry, give me a couple of sentences). Then I wondered, "Why do they believe in God?" and, "From where does a belief in God (or the idea of a supreme being) stem?" So I came up with two origins of a belief in God:
A. God communicated directly with man in some way, and word of that communication passed down through the generations, and so people, who trusted the word and testimony of their ancestors, believed in a Supreme Being.
B. The idea of a presiding male authority 'clicked' with some people, the father being the usual leader of a household, and they decided that perhaps that was a good idea, and began believing in a God, and looking for evidence to back that belief, eventually concluding that God existed via things like the creations all around us, the organization of things, etc.
If you guys can think of anything else, let me know.
As I've thought about it, I've been kind of biased. But right now, I will try to think out loud in an unbiased way:
Let's examine option A. To have a witness of a God from ancestors, relations, or acquaintances would introduce you to the concept of a Supreme Being. However, your belief in Him probably wouldn't come just because someone told you about him. For example, let's say that someone told you that there was a 10-foot-long candy bar in Paris. You wouldn't believe them just because they told you. On the other hand, the concept of a 10-foot-long candy bar would then be in your mind. You could conceptualize that candy bar, and wonder if such a thing existed.
Now let's look at option B. Again, if you guys have any other theories of how belief in God or in a Supreme Being was originated, please don't hesitate to present them at the end when you read this. My option B isn't very strong because...
1. I, think it's possible to have an aversion towards your father. To not appreciate a disciplinarian figure. Though, to someone who had a kind and loving father I can see how having a father figure watching over you would be comforting. I suppose it all depends on what kind of a God they were looking for. According to Wikipedia (yes, I know, I should do more legitimate research) the Aztecs believed that if they did not make sacrifices to the Gods, that either the Gods would not send gifts, or they would send punishments. If they did not make sacrifices to Huehueteotl, the fire god, a big fire would "strike their city."If they did not make sacrifices to Tiáloc, the god of rain, then they would not have rain and would be unable to feed their crops. Also according to Wikipedia, in Hinduism, the concept of God is that he does not inherently have any attributes, but that he takes different forms, which represent different ideas. "For example when one is depressed and sees the form of God Strong and Powerful, the seeker feels the moral boost that God would definitely be the support for the right thing." (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/God_in_Hinduism) So I suppose it would depend on what kind of a God you were looking for.
2. The following, however, debunks option B, in my opinion. If you come up with the concept of a Supreme Being, what's keeping you believing in it? You know full well that YOU had the idea. You know for a fact that the being was the fabrication of YOUR imagination. Even if you were to find stimuli outside of your mind to help you believe in that being, you still came up with it on your own.
Therefore, I tend to favor option A: that man had real communication with a Supreme Being. Then, at least the man who had direct communication would know such a being existed. He wouldn't have any choice. If I TOOK you to Paris and showed you that 10 foot candy bar, and you looked at it and felt it yourself, you wouldn't really have any other choice but to believe that it's real. But really, that's not what I'm looking for this discussion to be about. I'm trying to establish proof that there is a God, by showing that the surfacing of the idea of a God wouldn't have been able to stick any other way. And I don't think man would've been creative enough to come up with the idea of a being which was all-powerful and all-knowledgable and all-seeing. Even if they could, why would they want to believe in it?
Thus ends my ramblings. If you guys have any refutations, please feel free to write them in the comment box below.