From the Point of View of Sirius

Some of the early French existentialists were fond of talking about "the point of view of Sirius."  For example, Camus in the Myth of Sisyphus remarked that "from the point of view of Sirius", in ten thousand years all of Goethe's works would be dust and his name forgotten. I mention this because it's a shorthand expression for a worldview I have been struggling with for a long time.

I learned from Facebook this evening that a high-school classmate of mine died around 5 p.m. today.  Apparently she had been suffering from cancer and took her own life.  Now, I haven't seen or spoken with this person since my high-school days, which were long ago and far away.  The last I remember of her, she was a tall, gangly teenage red-head who was the center on our varsity girls' basketball team.  She was teased a lot for being so tall and for her freckles.  I think at times the teasing was actually severe enough to be cruel.  She was a nice girl and didn't deserve any of it, of course.

Since then, she has grown up, married, had children, and then grandchildren.  Who knows all of the struggles, heartaches, labors, challenges, achievements, joys, and sorrows she experienced in all those years that have passed since I knew her?  I certainly don't.  Those who were closest to her through it all perhaps know much of it, but no one really has any idea what it was like to be her, living her life, seeing the world through her eyes.  What was it all for?

I'm reading a book now by Neal A. Maxwell entitled, The Way Things Really Are.  It's a fine specimen of the self-assured, slightly sanctimonious, but "beefy" faith-literature that was much more prevalent 25 years ago than it is today.  Hey, just consider the title.  Here it is, boys and girls, THIS is the way it is.  It is this way because God has told us it is this way, via the scriptures, the Church, and the prophets.  End of discussion.  All we need to do is accept this worldview and follow the path laid out for us.  Obey and everything will be fine.  You will be safe.  Things will all work out, and after you die, great stuff will happen that will make up for all the "testing" we have to undergo here below.

Is this faith?  I'm not so sure.  Do those who say, "I know the Church is true" really know what they are saying?  For one thing, how can a church be "true"?  It's like saying you know that BYU is "true", or the state of Utah is "true."  But the real point here is that faith is not really "knowledge" in the way most of us understand "knowledge."  There is a teaching in Mormonism that faith can indeed lead one to a knowledge of spiritual realities, but only after much time and much practice. 

Often in fast and testimony meetings, small children march up to the lectern and say (in one version or another), "I know the church is true."  I don't understand why people think this is okay, beyond the mere fact that it's "cute."  

Right now all I can say is that I believe (i.e., hope and trust) that the gospel of Jesus Christ, of which the Church is a vehicle, is true.  If I "knew" that it was true, I wouldn't still get shivers when I think of "the point of view of Sirius." 

"Ask the Missionaries!"

Now that I'm firmly ensconced within the fold, the missionaries don't come a-callin' quite as often as they used to, but they stay in touch.  So I have a little scratchpad where I occasionally scribble down questions I have about the finer details of Mormon life that I'm not yet quite clear about.  Most of these questions are good-faith, I-really-want-to-now queries, but I will admit that sometimes I include a question that's more a matter of mischief-making.  You know, like, "Bwahahahahaha, let's see what the missionaries can do with THIS!" 

Well, they're stopping by tonight, and I have one question of each type for them.  See if you can guess which is which:

1.  Does reading the Ensign count as part of "daily scripture study"?

2.  Why do we go to all the trouble of trying to convert living people to the faith -- given all the hassle and expense -- when we can just wait for them to die and then do their temple work for them?

Anyway, I'm sure we'll have a good visit, we always do.  Salt of the earth, thems is.

Of Things Peculiar

I knew quite a lot about Mormon culture and Mormon history prior to my conversion.  When Mormons refer to themselves (with some degree of pride) as a "peculiar people", I understand a good deal of what that means.  And I like it.  Most non-members think the emphasis on genealogical research is pretty strange, but it makes perfect sense in the light of Mormon beliefs about the afterlife.  So that wasn't something that ever made me scratch my head.  But I must admit that there are a few other "peculiarities" that still occasionally cause me to wonder what I've gotten myself into.  So in the name of good, clean fun, here they are in all their peculiar glory:

Food storage.  I haven't actually gotten much of this in my ward yet.  We did have a lesson about how to put together a "72-hour kit" for emergency situations, but I know that doesn't really count.  Non-members understand the wisdom of having medical supplies, food, water, and fuel on hand for emergencies.  But having a one year supply of surplus food stored in your basement really is strange no matter how you cut it, and even stranger if you let it slip that it's sort of a religious obligation to have it on hand.

Jesus was born on April 6.  I had never heard of this AT ALL until Elder Bednar alluded to it at the last General Conference.  I chided the missionaries for never filling me in on this.  They acted like it was on par with not drinking coffee, i.e., something that everyone outside the Church just knows about Mormons.  "It's right there in section 20!" they told me.  So I checked out section 20, which I had read several times before, so how could I have missed it?  And, lo and behold, there it is, plain as day -- if you squint your eyes and blink a few times.

The Sunday "dress code."  I'm not talking about dressing up for church.  That's not peculiar.  What's peculiar to me is that the old guys (high priests) wear full-on suits and the younger dudes (EQ and Aaronic priesthood) wear white shirts and ties (no jackets).  It could have put me in a quandary fashion-wise because I'm an old guy but still in the lesser priesthood.  But I hate wearing white shirts.

Thee, thou, thy, etc.  I still have trouble with these archaic pronouns when I say prayers in meetings.  I have no objection to them in principle, but I just forget to use them.  Once I've mastered them, I will move on to stuff like "insomuch as" and "wresting." 

"Even."  Another linguistic quirk -- the word "even" is occasionally used to preface a redundancy, as in, "Our Lord and Savior, EVEN Jesus Christ."  Whenever I hear this, it makes me smile. 

I'm sure I'll be adding to this list later as other things occur to me.  What are YOUR favorites?

Congrats to Atheists!

Congratulations to all atheists who have come out of the closet in recent times, thanks to the fruitful labors of Richard Dawkins, Christopher Hitchens, Sam Harris, et. al.  Having been an atheist for several years myself, I am sincere in this sentiment.  You have nothing to be ashamed of, non-believers, and those who would shame or stigmatize you into silence or obscurity are thankfully becoming fewer and fewer in number.  It's all good.

Now that we've got that squared away, I have a question.  What now?

An acquaintance of mine is a very outspoken atheist.  Whenever the word "God" is mentioned, sometimes even when used in an oath, she blurts out, "I don't believe in god!"  or "There is no god!"  Now, this doesn't get much of a rise out of me personally, having been where she is for awhile, and I suspect it's less and less of an issue with most people.  At one time most would have considered it ballsy, but these days it's just seen as exhibitionism or simply regarded with indifference. 

So what I want to ask this person -- but of course I don't, because I want to be polite -- is something like, "Ummm.... okay ... why are you telling me this?  Because, really, it's OKAY with me that you don't believe in god(s).  So why do you keep repeating this like it's some kind of conditioned response to the god-word?" 

One answer COULD be that whether or not she is aware of it, she's preaching the gospel of non-belief.  She wants other people not to believe in God, because -- well, because atheism is a good thing and would make the world a better place?  Mmmm... debatable.   How about because you need to have your own unbelief validated?  I think that might be a big part of it.

I never argue with atheists, just as when I was an atheist, I never argued with believers.  It's too hard to precisely define your terms when you're discussing "god", and lacking a precise definition of terms, any sort of debate or dialectic is futile.   My stock answer, as an atheist, whenever anyone asked me if I believed in God, was, "Which one?"  Invariably, no one really knew.

But now I have a pretty good idea (conceptually) of what I mean by the word "god" when I profess faith in God.  I've struggled and fought to achieve clarity about this idea of God for most of my adult life.  I think I finally succeeded, at least to my own satisfaction.  Much of the appeal of Mormonism for me is that fact that its ideas about the Godhead fall so closely in line with those I had worked out for myself prior to seriously investigating the faith.

Hey, it's not just me! 

Anyway, if you haven't already, go read The God Who Weeps by Tyrell and Fiona Givens. 

The Book of Mormon Tells the Truth About Spiritual Things

The title of this post comes from an article I read recently from an old issue of Sunstone.  It was written by Peggy Fletcher Stack.  It's basically her testimony.  In it, she writes of the Book of  Mormon: "It won't do to say these are faith-promoting stories but not literal events."  But then later on, the most she can say about it is: "The Book of Mormon tells the truth about spiritual things."  This is something I'm always telling myself, too.  It's sort of my "minimalist testimony" of the Book of Mormon.  But it got me to thinking: What do I mean by that?

Well, one of the more obvious spiritual truths that saturates the Book of Mormon is something that I've heard called the "pride cycle."  Peggy Fletcher Stack calls it "cycles of righteousness and falling away."  The Book of Mormon emphasizes that there are two main sources of pride - wealth and intellectual attainment.

A society that develops a self-congratulatory mood because of its riches and technological superiority is headed for trouble.  There is something called "hard-heartedness."  If a heart becomes too hardened, it no longer looks to God for anything.  There is the illusion of self-sufficiency, a refusal to countenance dependency or weakness; no perceived lack, no sense of having fallen short or missed the target, and therefore no recognition of the need for repentance.  Hard-heartedness is a societal as well as an individual characteristic.

I detect hard-heartedness in the mocking tone that so many people use when talking about religion; in ways of relating to others dominated by sarcasm and belittlement; in the complete absence of empathy, mercy, and compassion toward those who are in prison (a glaring symptom, in my view).  Another prevalent sign of hard-heartedness is a strident demand for fairness and equity that seems to stem from a desire to knock everyone else down to one's own level of dissatisfaction and frustration.  Above all, and this is another feature the Book of Mormon identifies with societies in decline, there is an acceptance of contention and strife as the normal course of things.  In fact, our media culture seems to be based almost entirely on conflict and controversy.  It's what sells magazines and keeps people watching TV. 

Conversely, anything that threatens to soften one's heart is frequently rejected as sentimental, tagged as emotional self-indulgence, "magical thinking", or weakness.  A softening of one's heart can be a bit scary.  Many people fend it off with alcohol, food, drugs, or "business as usual."  No one wants to be vulnerable, because the way the carnal mind operates, vulnerability is often thought of as a prelude to being attacked.  But to experience a softening of one's heart, one's guard must be let down, at least for a little while.  The key is to experience one's weaknesses and fears full-on, and to then see how this is the common fate of all of us on this planet.  Then comes something akin to the opening up of awareness that Moses experienced on Mt. Sinai while conversing with God: Now, for this cause I know that man is nothing, which thing I never had supposed.  Mormon goes even further in the Book of Helaman: O how great is the nothingness of the children of men; yea, even they are less than the dust of the earth.

And yet ... to begin to understand that in spite of our nothingness, in spite of the apparent insignificance and contemptibleness of humans spinning around on this tiny speck in the endless void, we are somehow, at the same time, God's supreme concern:

For behold, this is my work and my glory -- to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man.

Faith is a Form of Denial

There is the world, and then there is the world of appearances.  Sometimes I think what "faith" is, in general, is the denial that these two are the same.

What the world of appearances offers us is typically not very encouraging.  I may have escaped slavery, war, poverty, hunger, grinding labor, loneliness, or the tedium that often accompanies material satisfactions, but  I will never escape the constant dangers of catastrophic accidents, the misery of illness, or the inevitability of death.  Plus the fact that I can only see what's in front of my eyes, or know what my feeble mind is capable of grasping.

What the world of appearances offers us is a brief flash of life, light, and intelligence -- just a nanosecond in an infinity of darkness -- and that is all.  There is a bleak pointlessness to it that overwhelms all of our little hopes, tragedies, and achievements.  Some people are comfortable with this, or at least say they are.  I am not.  It scares me.  It saddens me. 

Thus, the world of appearances.  My primal faith is that the world is not "really" this way.  In fact, I refuse to accept that it is.  I deny it.  The world of appearances is so discordant, so out of harmony with everything instinctive to the human spirit, that it simply cannot be the final word about the way things really are. 

This primal faith, this denial, goes out into the world and searches for something to justify it.  For the Christian, that something is the simple/bold/crazy/amazing declaration,  Jesus Christ rose from the dead. 

What Does It Mean to be a "Special Witness"?

The Quorum of the Twelve and the First Presidency are each referred to as "special witnesses", or "special witnesses of Christ."  In the most recent (2009) edition of Gospel Principles, this latter expression was revised from the previous (1997) edition to read, "special witnesses of the name of Christ", which is how it is phrased in scripture (D&C 107:23).  Why this change?  And what does this term "special witness" mean?  Does it mean that each of these men has actually seen and talked with Jesus Christ in the flesh?  Many members of the Church assume that this is the case, but is this specifically taught somewhere in official Church literature?  D&C 107 states that the Twelve are "traveling councilors" and are special witnesses of the name of Christ "in all the world."  This suggests to me that it has something to do with opening missions.  

Any clarification of this topic would be appreciated.

A Mother Lode of Pre-Correlated Mormon Goodness

A few weeks ago I received an email from our ward clerk that the meetinghouse library was weeding out all materials that had been deemed "not appropriate" for meetinghouse libraries.  The offending items would be on display in the cultural hall for anyone interested in taking possession of any of them.  Free books!  You don't have to tell me twice. 

So let me describe what I found that's no longer "appropriate" for a meetinghouse collection. 

Well, we'll start with old paperbacks from the 1970s about the Osmonds.  No surprise there. 

Then there were a few LDS-themed novels.  Okay, whatever.

Then came the good stuff.  What really caught my eye were the Sunday School manuals and church history textbooks from the 1950s and doctrinal treatises by Neal A. Maxwell and Mark E. Petersen.  I asked myself why these would no longer be "appropriate."  All I can figure is that anything that was published in "pre-correlation" days had to go. 

Anyway, I brought home a lot of this sort of stuff.  Included was An Introduction to the Gospel by Lowell L. Bennion, published in 1955 by the Deseret Sunday School Union Board.  I couldn't resist making a comparison between this and the latest edition of Gospel Principles, published by Intellectual Reserve, Inc., which I have been using in my Sunday School classes since day one as an investigator. 

A lot of people lately have been talking about the movement toward "uncorrelated" Mormonism.  If this is something that interests you, my advice is to talk to your meetinghouse librarian and see what might be available.  Unless it's already been purged. 

Easter 2014 - A Conversion Story

Easter may be the one day  of the year most appropriate to relate a conversion story.  So here is my conversion story.

It is not so much a conversion story, but rather, as Muslims believe that everyone is born a Muslim and may later in life, after having wandered, "revert" to Islam, this is a kind of "reversion" story.  Something you often hear from converts to the LDS faith is that when they first heard of the some of the unique doctrines of the Church, something "clicked."  Often you will hear a comment such as, "It sounded strangely familiar."  And so it begins.  Yes, that was my experience also.

I was raised in a Roman Catholic home, but religion in my family was a Sunday-only activity while the rest of the week was taken up by "real life." After I left home to attend college, I soon drifted away from Catholicism, but I seriously examined other faiths and often studied the Bible. I was looking for a path to follow to bring me closer to God but there were so many different religious institutions and leaders teaching so many different doctrines that I eventually came to believe that all faiths were nothing more than the "traditions of men" and that no one had any real knowledge of God.

In the meantime I got an education, entered the work force, married, and had a son. I filled up my spiritual emptiness with alcohol. I still read the Bible and occasionally went to Mass or visited various Protestant churches but didn't find whatever it was I was looking for. The years went by and as I grew older and reflected upon my life and the lives of most other people I knew, it was clear to me that if there was a purpose or meaning to life, I had utterly failed to discover it.

In the summer of 1993, I vacationed on Beaver Island in Lake Michigan. A Mormon colony had been established there in the 1850s by James Strang, one of several individuals who had claimed the leadership of the church after the death of Joseph Smith. I knew nothing about Mormonism but because of my interest in the Beaver Island colony, I began to read about the history of the Mormon people and eventually became acquainted with the doctrines and practices of the LDS church, many of which I felt greatly attracted to.  There was that unsettling feeling of familiarity.   But I dismissed the story of Joseph Smith and the Book of Mormon without bothering to learn much about it.

But my fascination with Mormonism continued unabated. I admired the Mormon people but considered myself totally dead to the sort of faith necessary to actually join any religious group. However, I truly envied anyone who had what I thought to be a “simple faith” and who found truth, hope, and meaning within it.

I thought that I was basically a good person, but I felt a desire to be more "Christ-like”. I was disappointed and discouraged by how far I fell short of this ideal. I wanted to be the kind of person Jesus was, at least in my imagination. But I wasn't very enthusiastic about trying to be more caring, generous, and humble. That was hard. And I when I tried, I failed again and again.

What was missing in my life was a true understanding of Jesus Christ -- not as a mere figure from the remote past who was exceptionally wise and brave and loving, but as a divine being who suffered, died, and rose from the dead, and who lives now so that I -- and all the people of the earth -- may put our complete trust and faith in Him and overcome our limitations and weaknesses and indeed become like Him.

My wife and I lived for many years in a house across the street from an apartment complex where the the LDS missionaries lived. I would see them walking around town now and then, and I promised myself that if they ever knocked on my door, I would sit down and have a talk with them. They came a few times, but I was never at home.

One day, after I got home from work, my wife said, "The missionaries were here. At first I thought they were Jehovah's Witnesses and I was going to send them away, but then I realized they were Mormons.  I told them about all the books you have about Mormonism and they got really excited. So I told them to come back tomorrow evening."

Well, I wanted to stay true to the promise I had made myself, so I made sure I was home the next evening when they arrived. I was expecting the usual pair of elders that I'd always seen walking around the neighborhood, but behold, there were three of them -- and they were sister missionaries!

I sat down with the sisters and we talked about faith. All along I had been expecting "faith" to just happen to me. The sisters taught me that faith is a decision that I must make every day. It can be nurtured and grown but this requires daily attention and effort. I read Alma 32 and my mind was enlightened. The sisters asked me to come to church, so I did.

These sister missionaries were examples to me of how to live a Christ-like life. They were simply amazing people -- so full of charity and the love of Christ, and totally devoted to proclaiming the Gospel. Later, when I related how my interest in Mormonism began with a vacation to a remote island in Lake Michigan in 1993, it was pointed out to me that all three of these sister missionaries had been born in 1993. I experienced many meaningful "coincidences" like that -- once noticed, they can't be ignored – and this encouraged me and gave me confidence that I was making the right decision in joining the Church.

In all my years of reading about the history and doctrines of the Restoration, I had never actually read the Book of Mormon.  Now, I read the Book of Mormon attentively, guided by the missionaries.  I was soon convinced that Joseph Smith couldn't have written it himself; and all the theories about other people writing it, or that it was plagiarized from existing manuscripts, seemed to me to be obvious hogwash. I now believe that regardless of the precise details of how the Book of Mormon was produced, it came to us through Joseph Smith from a divine realm.

I was praying to get a spiritual witness or testimony about the truth of the Book of Mormon, but it wasn't coming. This did not discourage me, however. I had a love for the doctrines of the Restoration and a love for my brothers and sisters in Christ. I watched the October 2013 General Conference, and Sister Oscarson, the Young Women's President, gave a talk about conversion, in which she stated that true conversion occurs over a long period of time, as we act upon the doctrines of the gospel and put them into daily practice. For me, it was the right message at the right time. 

As my baptismal date approached, I was still concerned that I didn’t have an adequate testimony, so I asked Heavenly Father very directly and insistently to provide me with some direction. That night I dreamed that I gave a priesthood blessing to one of my co-workers.  And so, even though my testimony was not what I imagined it should be, my hesitation about entering into my baptismal covenants vanished.  His sheep know His voice.

And now, because it's Easter, I will share a link.  I know many Saints have shared this link recently, so I'm just piling on, but this short video, Because of Him, is incredibly powerful and moving.  How can we not love Him, knowing what He has done for each and every one of us?

O death, where is thy sting?  O grave, where is thy victory? 

Hey! You're Not Supposed to be Drinking That!

Exactly how one interprets the Word of Wisdom when it comes to what one drinks is an interesting topic of conversation.  I'm amused that when non-members learn that I've recently joined the LDS church, they often tell me what I can and can't drink.  I'm surprised by how prevalent the belief is that "Mormons can't have any caffeine."  Non-members have observed me drinking Coke Zero at my workplace and have helpfully volunteered the information that Mormons aren't supposed to do this. 

Members of the church know exactly what to do in this situation.  That's right:  Share the gospel!  Or at least explain a little bit about the Word of Wisdom and the intent behind it.  The fact that it's not all black-and-white, and that there is space for individual judgment -- in other words, there is a "spirit" behind the "letter" of the law -- is a good thing for people to know.

Of course, there are varying cultural norms within Mormondom, and I'm very aware that Utah, being an entirely different planet, has an entirely different way of looking at certain things than those of us out here in the "mission field."  Thus, the joke, "What's the difference between a good Mormon and a bad Mormon?  The temperature of their caffeine!" 

 I love the description of the Word of Wisdom as given "not by commandment or constraint", but as "a principle with promise."  The promise is that as we obey the commandments of God, we will enjoy improved health, both spiritually and physically.  We will become whole. 

The best advice I've received about how to approach the caffeine conundrum is the simple "take it or leave it" test.  Is it really a big deal for me if I don't drink a can of Coke today?  Will it disturb my spiritual equilibrium if I do drink a can of Coke today?  If I can answer "yes" to either of those questions, then I need to re-evaluate how I'm interpreting the Word of Wisdom.  Maybe I should add Coke to the no-no list. 

What's the Deal with the Sacrament Prayers?

I recently performed my first actual "priestly" function as a recently-ordained member of the Aaronic Priesthood.  The EQP from the branch I originally attended before later moving into a new ward and then being baptized, invited me to visit the branch for sacrament meeting this past Sunday and perform the blessing over the bread.  I was grateful for the opportunity to do so and readily accepted his invitation. 

All went well, and I didn't flub the words and have to repeat the prayer.  Still, I wonder why the sacrament prayers are so often difficult to recite accurately, even when being read from a card?  There IS something about the diction that's rather clunky, and we're generally not used to verbalizing sentences with so many subordinate clauses.  But it just shouldn't be that big a deal to get through it error-free. 

A missionary told me that someone actually went inactive for awhile after messing up the sacrament prayer because he was so embarrassed.  I guess that's one advantage of being an older dude in this situation -- I've done so many embarrassing things in my life, having to re-do the sacrament prayer doesn't even warrant a tournament bid. 

It's Official -- "I'm a Mormon"!

I am now officially a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints!  Check out how I have mastered the proper hyphenation and capitalization of the official name of my Church.  Behold, it beginneth to be delicious to me.

So I decided to fire up this blog.  Years ago, before I became a member of the Church, I started up a Mormon-themed blog as an outlet for my fascination with all things LDS.  Suffice it to say that now, as a member, I have plenty of outlets.  I have home teaching assignments, a calling, family history research to do, the whole ball of wax!  

Frankly, I feel like I have a pretty lame testimony.  My most common responses when non-members ask me why I joined the Church are:

1.  I reached a point in my life when I felt that it was better to be a member than to not be a member.
2.  The flood is coming and it's time to get on the ark.
3.  I want to be good -- not just good, but someone who has a sincere desire to be good and no desire at all to be evil -- and Mormons seem like the best people to hang with to help me move in this direction.
4.  I'm not sure.

I have to tell you, dear readers, that it was not the Book of Mormon that got me into the Church.  I truly love the Book of Mormon, but it's a peculiar love, sort of like the love that people develop for especially quirky or weird friends and relatives.  You don't necessarily want to live under the same roof with them, but whenever you do see them, it's like experiencing a breath of fresh air, a tasty snack, and a few laughs all at once. 

The fact is that the Book of Mormon was not always the Big Enchilada of missionary work the way it has been for the past thirty years or so.  If President Benson is to be believed, and why wouldn't he be, we Mormons have only until very recently paid very much attention at all to the Book of Mormon.  This neglect, it seems, goes all the way back to the earliest days of the Church. 

I asked Sister Kane, a very witty and brilliant missionary, how many of her investigators actually ever read the Book of Mormon all the way through.  Her immediate answer was, "The ones who got baptized." 

And I believe this.  However, when you really get to know the Book of Mormon, there are a few things you come to realize about it that can be surprising, amusing, disconcerting, or puzzling, depending on where you are coming from.

First of all is how much of it is filler.  Seriously.  Like "junk DNA" -- if it serves any purpose at all, we haven't yet figured it out. 

Second, is how much of it is unintentionally (or intentionally) funny.  For example, objects of "curious workmanship" abound in the the Book of Mormon.  And who creates these objects of curious workmanship?  Why, curious workmen, of course!  And only in the Book of Mormon will you be told that in the umpteenth year of the reign of the judges, well, nothing much at all happened.  This is related to the basic principle that when one is short on ore (with which to create more plates), it's important to get as many of these non-eventful years covered in your history as possible. 

Third, there's the fact that Jesus is both the Father AND the Son.  I'm not going to delve into this at all, it's beyond me.  But there it is.  I used to think that the Book of Mormon was trinitarian, but no -- it's something else entirely, some theological beast from 20,000 fathoms, a fearsome creature spawned by a mixing together of elements that should never, in the natural course of things, be mixed together. 

Fourth, there's Third Nephi, Chapter Eight, in which Jesus goes all Armageddon on the Nephites in a big way.  Not exactly a meek-and-mild type guy we have here. 

But if one takes the Book of Mormon seriously -- and I do -- then one has to face the challenge of fitting all of this into one's spiritual worldview.

So I'm taking this new blog forward.  I'm not sure what I'll be doing with it, but I'll think of something.