How Can I Keep From Singing? (Psalms 100:1-5)

I haven't posted in a long time. Too long in fact. I now have heard rumors that I haven't posted because supposedly I "saw the light" and abandoned my "foolish Mormonism." Not so. If my Mormonism is my foolishness, I am more foolish than ever.

That said, the last 4 months have been an interesting emotional journey. I've learned a lot of critical lessons about managing my attractions and about the power and value of positive friendships in various forms. I cannot condense the last 4 months into a single post, so I won't even try. But I have been through one of the darkest periods of depression in my life to a current position of greater renewed faith than I have ever known. And I am happy. Very happy. I have seen the Hand of God very clearly in recent days and have now been blessed to have my eyes opened to see that Hand very evident throughout the events of this summer, even when I couldn't see it at the time.

Being humbled is hard. But worth it. That's what I learned this summer. I learned also above all to trust God above the opinions and half-truths of man. I'm always amazed at how gently and gracefully He can perform such intensive and delicate soul-surgery as He often does on us, eradicating the tumors of imperfection and personality flaw. I know I have many more such tumors to be worked out, but the schedule for the operations is always in His hands, not mine. Perfection requires patience and surrendering our time-tables to his.

When I heard that many were doubting my continued faithfulness, I could not sit back and fail to declare the truth: that I am still on the Lord's side and have to intent of leaving. For He has been so kind to me; so patient with me in my imperfections. I am filled with astonishment at His rich blessings. Two things come to mind: a psalm and a hymn.

First, the 100th Psalm:

1 Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all ye lands.

 2 Serve the Lord with gladness: come before his presence with singing.

 3 Know ye that the Lord he is God: it is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.

 4 Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise: be thankful unto him, and bless his name.

 5 For the Lord is good; his mercy is everlasting; and his truth endureth to all generations.

The third verse is my favorite. It is easy to fall into a trap of self-worship, patting ourselves on the back for all our own accomplishments. We forget that He is the One who made us, and who remakes us again and again, continually perfecting us. He is our shepherd, we are the sheep. Sometimes I'm not a very good sheep, but He doesn't decrease the efficacy of His shepherding towards me. In fact, He increases it in our behalf when we are the ones needing attention. 

One of the blessings I had over this summer was a set of stellar roommates. They were guys I knew before I moved in with them and they became wonderful friends. The one with whom I actually shared a room knew about my SSA before I even moved in and was always so supportive and kind. Then, a few weeks ago the security I had in those roommates got thrown in the air when I had to move unexpectedly due to a contract mix-up. I was thrown into a new apartments with unknown roommates. I was not excited about it at all, and in fact quite worried. But you know what? It has been fantastic. It is what the Lord knew I needed. My random set of roommates has been an unexpected blessing I not only didn't ask for, but even resisted. In fact, I felt prompted and comfortable telling the roommate I actually share my room with about my attractions on the fourth day I knew him. He was not weirded out at all. In fact, he was very understanding. This was a huge relief. Over the summer for the first time ever I grew accustom to having a roommate who knew about me who I could confide in and talk about things with. That roommate was a remarkable help to me. I was very worried about not having that support anymore after growing used to it. And so I was blessed to be given a great roommate who is equally understanding, and I was blessed to be able to discern it within the first week of knowing him. None of my other roommates know, but they are all fantastic, wonderful guys as well. I've also been blessed to not find myself becoming too attached to or infatuated with any of them despite the strong friendships we are all building and the fact that they all generally happen to be rather good looking. None of that has been even the slightest problem. 

Other parts of my life, including my new semester, etc. are also all falling into place and the direction of the Lord is very clear. I am amazed looking at all the blessings He is pouring on me, far more than I deserve. The world still has a lot of problems and I am not exempt. I still have trials I'm managing, and my attractions are still a consideration. But despite all the things I face, I am happy and amazed at God's love. That's where a great traditional Protestant hymn comes to mind that has always been one of my favorites. It is not found in our hymnal, but I wish it was. It is called, "How Can I Keep From Singing?" This is how I feel. The Lord has been so good amidst my trials, that I can't hold back from sharing that message. And that has brought me back my blog after my summer hiatus. (I guess you could say I am personally feeling like, "How Can I Keep from Blogging?"). Anyway, I'll leave you with the beautiful lyrics from that wonderful hymn:

My life flows on in endless song;

Above earth's lamentation,

I hear the sweet, tho' far-off hymn

That hails a new creation;

Thro' all the tumult and the strife

I hear the music ringing;

It finds an echo in my soul--

How can I keep from singing?

What tho' my joys and comforts die?

The Lord my Saviour liveth;

What tho' the darkness gather round?

Songs in the night he giveth.

No storm can shake my inmost calm

While to that refuge clinging;

Since Christ is Lord of heaven and earth,

How can I keep from singing?

I lift my eyes; the cloud grows thin;

I see the blue above it;

And day by day this pathway smooths,

Since first I learned to love it;

The peace of Christ makes fresh my heart,

A fountain ever springing;

All things are mine since I am his--

How can I keep from singing?

 

 

 

My best,

 

Obadiah

Prayer (Hymn 140)

In ancient days, the Jews generally regarded the psalms to be "lesser scripture," but scripture nonetheless. I think this is how I feel sometimes about our hymns. I sometimes learn profound things from them, as much as I sometimes do studying the scriptures. And so, as you can tell from my title, I've chosen to base my remarks tonight around a hymn rather than a scripture passage. The hymn is one you probably know, but which has really sunk into my mind lately. It's number 140: "Did You Think to Pray?"

The first verse says:

Ere you left your room this morning, Did you think to pray?
In the name of Christ, our Savior, Did you sue for loving favor As a shield today?


The first line is the least profound of the entire hymn, but there is still more to it than initially meets the eye. At first, it seems to merely suggest the duty of prayer--that prayer is something we are required to do with regularity. But then comes the second line, which unlocks the true intent of the first. The first line isn't there to rebuke us if we didn't pray, but to encourage us. It's not about guilt-tripping, but rather gladly inviting us to reap the rich benefits of prayer. The real sadness in not praying to begin the day is not that you didn't fulfill an obligation, but rather that you didn't reap an important blessing of heavenly protection. You hurt yourself far more than you could ever hurt God if you don't pray.

One thing I especially love about this hymn, is that it never asks, "Did you think to say your prayers?" Rather, it specifically enjoins PRAYING, which altogether a different matter than merely "saying prayers." This is one of the most important distinctions I've learned in my life. "Saying prayers" means to go through the motions and say prayer-like words addressed to God. Often repetitious. Praying, on the other hand, is a divine 2-way conversation. Prayer often transcends the pattern we learned in primary of addressing--thanking--asking--closing. That is a nice paradigm to teach children with, but eventually we must move beyond it. In fact, perhaps the most important part of effective prayer is LISTENING. Eventually, prayers start including basic conversation about how your day was and discussing the things in your life with the Creator. I've loved learning to stop praying FOR things (whether that means merely "thanking FOR" or "asking FOR") and rather praying ABOUT them instead. After all, our gratitude gains more meaning if we discuss WHY we are grateful for each blessing. And our petitions are improved when we first consult the Lord to see if we are even praying for the right thing in the first place! Just remember, when you pray, that He is listening and often willing to respond. Let Him. (That said, I have to add a brief reminder: God's voice, typically via the Spirit, coming in response strongly when you pray is a thing that waxes and wanes. Sometimes you'll feel it, other times you won't and that is NOT necessarily indicative of your worthiness! Don't condemn yourself just because He is sometimes silent. In fact, I've already written a whole post on that subject previously, called "Forsaken.")

Anyway, the next verse of the hymn goes:

When your heart was filled with anger, Did you think to pray?
Did you plead for grace, my brother, That you might forgive another Who had crossed your way?

Okay, I've sung this verse my entire life in countless sacrament services. But never until today did the full depth of it register with me. This is a profound message that could actually bring about World Peace if everybody followed its advice. We all will be angered by the actions of others at one time or another. And when that anger comes, this song recognizes our need for GRACE. At first it seems that the grace is needed to forgive us of the anger. That's probably true; we SHOULD pray for/about that. But the grace is for so much more than that. Grace transforms us into better people. As the song here suggests, we plead for the grace so that we can be filled with a more forgiving spirit. I've had some important prayers lately like this: asking God to help me become better. I have to put forth my efforts to improve, of course, but the grace steps in and enables the changes and allows me to make changes I couldn't on my own. We're currently working together on targeting selfishness. Still a work in progress, but I've felt the grace in action today.  (By the way, in my post a few days ago I promised a follow-up to my earlier post on Grace. That is still in the works and coming soon.)

Here's a challenge for you: You will feel hurt or angry some day soon. Maybe someone is making gay jokes again. Or mocking your religious beliefs. Maybe they've done something dishonest. Maybe they dropped something heavy on your head--by accident or intention! I don't know why you are going to have bad feelings for another person, but you will. When that moment comes, PRAY. Remember that Christ taught in the sermon on the mount that you should "pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you" (Matthew 5:44). This is great advice. I learned a while back that you can't sincerely pray for someone while hating them. To actually face your God and ask for good things for an individual basically grows love in your heart. You will immediately begin reconciling yourself with your enemies by praying for them sincerely, and for their happiness. But don't just pray for them; as the song recommends, pray for YOURSELF to become a better person through grace, for that will truly be even more key to resolving the dispute.

Okay, final verse:

When sore trials came upon you, Did you think to pray?
When your soul was full of sorrow, Balm of Gilead did you borrow At the gates of day?


While the first verse mentioned praying at specific times, such as when we rise, these latter two aren't as time-bound. The best time to pray about a trial is when it hits. You don't need to wait until that evening! Isn't that great? God's status is always set to "available." As with anger, sore trials are also just a guaranteed part of life. And hopefully they drive us pray. Don't foolishly try to face trials without God's grace! Balm of Gilead was ancient medicine. It was an aromatic plant that helped heal wounds and grew abundantly in Gilead. It was probably one of the most important medical discoveries of ancient times, as it was able to not only speed healing, but also kept infection at bay. Our wounds, both physical and spiritual, can be dressed with healing salve that is abundant and available for us through prayer.
 
I'll end this post with the hymn's straightforward but profound chorus, which speaks for itself:


Oh, how praying rests the weary! Prayer will change the night to day.
So, when life gets dark and dreary, Don't forget to pray.


My best,


Obadiah

Cogs in Zion (Moses 7:18)

I've been pondering a lot lately on the 2 fundamental contradictory desires that we as human beings experience relative to our social lives: On the one hand, we strive to fit in; nobody likes to be alone and we yearn for companionship of others and finding common ground. On the other hand, we desire to be unique; nobody wants to think that they are just a cookie-cutter clone of everyone else. And so we face these two dueling desires: the desire to be different vs. the desire to fit in with everyone else. The gospel and the world both make this dichotomy reconcilable, though in vastly different ways.

Let's talk first about the world's approach. The world's predominate philosophies and views have shifted significantly throughout time, but today's prevailing preoccupation with the modern secular humanist view over-emphasizes the individuality desire. Huge stock is placed in "being yourself" and telling each individual that their own needs are most important, far outweighing that of the collective. In fact, the modern superhero portrayed in film and art is viewed in a much more tragic light than yesteryear, given their unfortunate obligation to serve other. Take the popular song "Superman" by Five for Fighting as an example. In this song, Superman, who in the 1950's television show was very happy in fulfilling his role to society, now laments the tragedy it is that he has to focus so much on others instead of his own needs. He sings, "it's not easy to be me," despite the fact that he can fly, jump over buildings, stop bullets, see through walls, and shoot both heat and freezing rays from his eyes. And this song resonates with us because as a society we respect those who serve others, but don't envy them because we've been raised in a culture which emphasizes personal desire and advancement as the primary route to happiness. The idea that giving up our own desires to serve others is vastly foreign, and accompanied in films by a noble but tragic sense of respect for those poor individuals who have to sacrifice individuality in any measure.

By the world's standard in the 21st century, we fulfill the desire to "fit in" specifically by over-accentuating the individuality. Another friend of mine with SSA recently lamented to me that a gay activist he knows seems to adamantly insist that if a same-sex attracted individual isn't openly gay and living the "gay lifestyle," then that individual is actually committing a moral mistake and cannot be fully happy because he is "denying who he is." Thus, to be accepted by the mainstream philosophical bunch of our day, we have to over-indulge on the other desire. It is by trying to be absolutely unique that others can accept us, and if they think we aren't actually trying out hardest to be "ourselves" as they see us, they actually don't accept us! This seems to make sense to them as a reconciliation of the two desires.

Now let me present an alternative to the common views of the world today. Obviously not everyone ascribes to the secular humanist path, and that became evident to me through another contemporary song, "Helplessness Blues" by Fleet Foxes. The first verse of this profound song instantly throws the fundamental pillars of secular humanism to the wind. It goes:

I was raised up believing I was somehow unique,
A snowflake distinct among snowflakes, unique in each way you can see.
And now, after some thinking, I'd say I'd rather be
A functioning cog in some great machinery serving something beyond me.


Pretty profound stuff, eh? The first two lines paint the secular view we are so surrounded by: an abundant emphasis on our differences that make us unique like snowflakes. But the author then ponders and rejects this philosophy by saying that instead of a snowflake, he'd rather be a cog. That is an incredibly bold statement, because the very word "cog" in this secular world has developed a bit of a negative connotation. That people who allow themselves to be "cogs" are those who give in to the pressures of an over-bearing society and adopt authoritarian fascism. Nobody wants to be merely a cog when you can be a snowflake! And yet, which of the two is more lasting? The snowflake will be gone when the sun comes out. The cog will endure. The cog puts others first and learns that he is part of something greater than himself. And yet being a cog doesn't mean we have to sacrifice our individuality either! Indeed, each cog is separate and necessary for the machine to function properly: it is the very fact that each cog is different and fulfills a different space in the machine that allows it to operate.


The world will tell you to "be yourself;" I would say "be true to yourself" and God encourages you to become a better self. The world will tell you "you are fine just the way you are." That one's tricky, because in some ways it is true. But it also implies that you should STAY just they way you are, when we can all strive for improvement. God wants us ultimately to be better than the way we are, and offers the help we need to achieve that goal. The world tells us that if we sacrifice some desires to conform with the Church, we are actually in the wrong. "Conform" is word that has unfortunately gotten an even worse rap than "cog" even though it isn't always bad--it can actually represent a very noble choice. When we recognize something better for not only ourselves in the long-run, but especially for the sake of others both present and future, and sacrifice our own will to conform to that ideal, we are doing something remarkably good. And this means we will sometimes have to fight against the individuality desire that the world tells us to let loose without bounds. Some conformity may be required of us, but we should welcome it. And why not? After all, God cares about saving His people all together, not just as isolated individuals. That's why the Church exists. He wants the collective individual cogs to come together, and when they do, they form what He calls Zion. As we read in Moses 7:18,

"And the Lord called his people Zion, because they were of one heart and one mind, and dwelt in righteousness; and there was no poor among them."

That, my friends, is an ideal worth a little conformity. And remember, being a cog doesn't mean sacrificing individuality. Indeed, the Lord relies upon the fact that we will each have different strengths to offer as individuals in order for the machine to run properly. That we may all strive to be worthwhile cogs in the great machinery of Zion, and not merely fleeting snowflakes that will melt away tomorrow is my prayer.

My best,

Obadiah

P.S. Church today was amazing. I spoke in Church, actually, and largely adapted my earlier (and so-far favorite) post "Grace and Gasoline" into a talk. I felt really guided in how I delivered it and then afterwards had a fantastic conversation with my bishop about Grace. Our discussion gave me lots to chew on and I imagine I might write a follow-up/sequel post to that earlier post on grace not too long from now. :)

Grace and Gasoline (2 Nephi 25:23)

Before I dig into writing this post, I want to comment on the power of hymns. This morning I was having some of the strongest urges of attraction for a man that I've felt in a long time. I just started playing some hymns and the effect was almost instant. I felt my longing for companionship immediately filled by the companionship of the Holy Ghost reassuring me and helping things subside. I believe God is a musician. He gave us sacred music as one of the most fierce weapons in our arsenal.

Now onto today's post:

Have you ever pushed a car a quarter mile because it was out of gas? So have I. Last night at 1:00 AM. (Long story...) Anyway, I learned some great spiritual truths in the process that I'd like to share today, building upon other lessons I've learned in the past.

Think of life like a road trip from New York to San Diego (2 of my favorite cities!). I have likened my own life to this analogy many times. Bear in mind that San Diego here represents not just any end of the journey, but the one we most desire--it is like Eternal Life in the Celestial Kingdom. There are many detours we could take along the way that could prevent us from getting there and cause us to settle for a less-desired destination.

Now think of how the Atonement fits this scenario. For many years I thought that the Atonement was like the windshield wiper fluid of our journey: used to help us clean off the bugs and crud we collect along the way. Oh what a silly and simplistic analogy that is, I've learned! Honestly, the Atonement DOES actually fill the role of cleansing us, but it is so much more important than that as well! After all, if all it did was clean us when we got dirty, then it wouldn't do much to help those of us with SSA until after we made mistakes. I've learned that it helps much more than that along the way!

While on my mission for a while the car my companion and I had experienced problems with its power steering. Have you ever driven a car without power steering? It's something we all take for granted until it's gone. Turning a car going 45 mph without power steering is not an easy task! It was that experience that began to help me realize what GRACE is. Grace has been defined as "the enabling power of the Atonement." It gives us the power to do the right thing. Life truly is like a road trip, but on my mission I began to realize that the Atonement isn't merely like unto wiper fluid--it is power steering fluid! Try making that road trip from NY to SD without power steering. You'd be left to rely completely on your own strength to make each needed turn along the way. Technically we are capable of getting there on our own--that is, all have agency and COULD technically make all the right choices and turn to get to the end on our own, but without power steering it is made a lot more difficult.

Then last night I learned that even my power steering analogy was far to simplistic a model to describe the help of the Atonement in our lives. Power Steering is indeed much like the enabling power of grace, but even that still makes it much like a convenience than a need. Grace is more like gasoline. Let me explain by first quoting a favorite verse of Latter-day Saints from the Book of Mormon. From 2 Nephi 25:23 we read:

"For we labor diligently to persuade our children, and also our brethren, to believe in Christ and to be reconciled to God; for we know that it is by grace that we are saved after all we can do."

Unfortunately, the reason lots of latter-day saints love this verse is because of those last five words, "after all we can do." They read it with super emphasis on that phrase in order to both diminish the importance of grace in the passage and glorify the role of works. How many times have you heard this verse read, "it is by grace [this word is read softly and timidly, like it's some cuss word or something] that we are saved AFTER ALL WE CAN DO!!!!!!!!!" This is generally followed by some kind of raucous celebration about the doctrine of works. Brethren and sisters, these things ought not so to be! Indeed, in context of the chapter, I think we are reading that verse completely backwards. The entire chapter is about our dependence upon Christ. Look what happens when we switch the final phrases of the verse around:

"For we labor diligently to persuade our children, and also our brethren, to believe in Christ and to be reconciled to God; for we know that after all we can do, it is by grace that we are saved."

We haven't actually changed the meaning of the verse at all, merely the point of emphasis. That way we begin to see that even all those good things we do don't save us--grace does! Here's where everything ties together:

Last night pushing a car with no gas just a quarter mile to the Chevron, my mind went back to my good ol' road trip analogy and I realized that once again it was *technically* possible to get the car all the way from New York to San Diego without any gas. But doing so would kill me! (By the way--the car is essential to the trip and can't be abandoned or left behind mid-way in my analogy.) I even had the help of a benevolent stranger and it still wasn't fun or easy. The car suddenly became a symbol to me of the natural man and our bodies. We absolutely need them for eternal life, but unaided they actually become a hindrance that can prevent us from reaching our eternal goal. However, when we are able to control the vehicle it is actually just as essential to getting us there! Christ's grace is an enabling power that helps us not only clean the windows and steer the car, but also to move forward with strength far beyond our own.

Seeing the Atonement through that lens, it becomes incredibly applicable to SSA whether or not we fall into transgression. At the beginning of this post I mentioned an incredibly strong surge in attraction and lustful feelings I felt this morning. I of myself could not control that urge without incredible effort beyond what I will always be able to render. The gift of the Spirit though, available by the Grace of God, helped me immediately dispel those feelings. I definitely don't have the strength to push my car (literal or figurative) to San Diego! But with wiper fluid, power steering, and gasoline, I am enabled to present my vehicle clean and successfully driven to that great destination for final inspection before the Lord.

Perhaps my favorite part of this analogy is that while emphasizing the absolute necessity of grace, it doesn't undermind agency or works either. Even with unlimited gasoline and power steering, I must drive the car! I can still choose to squander those great endowments of grace and take forbidden paths or drive recklessly, risking an accident. Only by careful driving in the right direction by my own free will can I get there. Nonetheless, if left to myself with no gas I'll never get there.

Don't try pushing your car alone. It isn't fun and you'll never get there. Your struggles with the natural man are just too heavy! Rely on the Lord and He will enable you with His grace.

My best,

Obadiah