Epistemology and my journal

I have not been very consistent in my journal writing in the past. What I have been regular at, however, is picking it up again after quitting for a time. I’m guessing I’m not alone in this. Some of my earliest journal entries bear highlights like sitting in the same pew as one of the larger men in the ward on Sunday, or being allowed to choose and name the new fish for our fish tank. Brother Corpany might have chuckled if he had read my entry for that day, and Zekey Z. Z. Z. (The fish) probably cared much more about how often I would be feeding her (I think I recall finding out that ol’ Zekey was a girl sometime later  -- a discovery that did not make it into my journal). 

Initially at least, when I looked back on and reread those entries, I was really embarrassed.  I was so juvenile in my thoughts, so distracted by my own handwriting or dramatic expressions. It was hard not to discount my underdeveloped self with all of my emotions, values, etc..

I got to thinking about this emotion as I wondered about crises of faith. They are generally of two sorts - from what I have heard. The first sort arises from  historical, doctrinal, or topical questions or concerns. The second type is epistemological though - having to do with the very definition of truth and how it is to be known. Elder Holland counseled those facing questions regarding things they do not know to “hold fast to the ground you have already won” and wait for additional knowledge to come. Essentially, remember the things that you have been given answers to in the face of the questions that still remain. Sometimes, however, is it possible that our questions may begin to be epistemological as we look back? If we look back at our past selves with embarrassment, criticism, or contempt we may feel like whatever we may have felt at that time was equally juvenile, and somehow not valid. Because the Lord “speaketh unto men according to their language, unto their understanding.” As that understanding changes over time, we may be tempted to discount the promptings of the past. This would be a sad mistake. The simplicity of my childhood testimony and the fire of my missionary zeal were as real a spiritual communication as any I received yesterday or today. May God grant us the wisdom to see that while the past is definitely different, it is not less real    

A diet of the mind

I am an experienced dieter. Not that kind though - I never had to worry about what I ate much — we’ll see how far that holds up into my 40s now. My experience includes: a strict diet of “Classical 89.1” on the radio in my room until after 8th grade, a 9 month media fast in the middle of my Senior year of high school, and most recently, exclusion of all sugary desserts and candies for the last 2 1/2 years. Being more exclusive - or purposeful about my thoughts seems to be more difficult though. Although it is the unobserved seedbed for my actions - it is unobserved by others, and perhaps to often myself also.  How much more effective and meaningful could my service be if my mind were constantly at work toward the aims I really care about? Some things have to work better than others though. What tools are there. A couple of things I intend to try were suggested by President Faust years ago. He said: "If not bridled, our thoughts can run wild. Our minds are a part of us that really require discipline and control. I believe reading the scriptures is the best washing machine for unclean or uncontrolled thoughts." He goes on to add, "For those who are eligible and worthy, the sanctity of the holy temple can lift our thoughts above the earthy" ("The Power of Self Mastery," Ensign, May 2000). Nephi's love for the scriptures leads him to constantly ponder them (2 Nephi 4:15). This week I will use the scriptures as reigns for my thoughts instead of just a place they go for my personal and family studies.

((FOcUs))

Sometimes when I kneel to pray it is a less than fulfilling experience. The problem isn’t on my Father in Heaven’s side of the equation though, it’s mine. It has to do with my thoughts. On those occasions, they seem to scatter like a bunch of cats to the many disparate topics that have left their fingerprints on my mind recently; conversations I have had, songs I have listened to, things I’ve imagined, things I’ve watched, the conversations of others, and even things I wished I had said myself. They jump and bounce and compete for precious air time in my consciousness.
Now and again, one of those scattering trains of thought is completely unsource-able and completely bazaar - almost as if my mind was mocking me for my lack of control over it - producing a short clip of myself as a nervous circus performer backstage before a production, or sitting outside by the waters edge at a French village cafe as an international spy. I’m embarrassed when this happens - embarrassed that I don’t have, or at least did not exhibit, a greater control of focus. At those times my mind seems to scream with an almost deafening chorus of noise.
It’s not only prayer either - lack of focus has made different things difficult too. Prayer is just the one I feel worst about - because it means the most to me. Is this strange? Is this ADD? Is it because I have simply not disciplined myself in matters of the mind? I have long believed the quote, “that which we persist in doing becomes easier to do...” because our capacity increases to match the demands of what we continually do. Training of any kind relies on this singular principle. It is a two-edged sword though, bad habits can become easier as well if we continue in them. It’s clear - I need to grow in my capacity for focus. What brought this to my attention was clarity - and the contrast it allowed me to see. As I waited for on the platform for the train to work this morning, I noticed...my mind was really quiet and unencumbered. Focus was easy and natural. It felt great, it felt beautifully serene and powerful. I yearned for such clarity to stay and began to plan my diet of the mind.

The Price of Empathy

I remember picturing a lone pair of running shoes in the middle of a lane of traffic when he told me about his dad. He had been hit and killed out on his morning run. My friend explained that the vehicle had literally knocked him right out of his shoes. It still seems like a moment frozen in time to me - an echo chamber of thoughts. It is hard to separate my memories from my thoughts during that time, and slow motion seems the most natural replay speed. I imagined how something like that would effect me. I was a runner too, and I knew the intersection where it happened well. On runs in subsequent months and years I watched oncoming traffic carefully and planned escape routes if...
I couldn’t imagine missing my dad though. Truth is, I knew it hurt, but I had no idea how or how bad. I really wanted to help — but I didn’t know what to say or do. I felt paralyzed to do anything because I didn’t know the right thing to do.
Fast forward 20 something years and only a couple miles separate my friend and I now. We had regrettably drifted slowly apart after that. Circumstances of our busy lives were probably as much to blame as anything. We’d moved apart and then back close together now. Each of us with our little families, jobs, callings, etc.. We are friends on Facebook though, and shortly after my 40 mile/40th birthday, and my wife’s post on Facebook about it, he commented that his dad had done the same thing when he turned 40. We passed a short time later in the hallway of the church building both our wards attend and I told him I really wanted to hear the story. I really do. I want to be able to talk to him about his amazing father. And if nothing else was accomplished by my run than to open that discussion and help me be a friend -- it will have been worth every step.
You see, when I dedicated that run to the Lord, in my anxiety and lack of training, I told Him I desired to gain empathy from it. I wanted to venture into my own vulnerability and learn about suffering — so I could know, just a little better, how to help, how to be there for others when they suffer.
Jesus suffered the pains, afflictions, and infirmities of all mankind “that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infirmities” (Alma 7:12). He paid the price to stand by us through it all — situations and circumstances that He would never have been in because He lived free from sin He willingly engaged for the opportunity to run to our aid in our times of need. Then the next verse reads, “Now the Spirit knoweth all things; nevertheless the Son of God suffereth according to the flesh that he might take upon him the sins of his people, that he might blot out their transgressions according to the power of his deliverance” (Alma 7:13). It seems kind of a strange place to put an acknowledgement of the omniscience of the Spirit of God at first glance. Yet because the Spirit knoweth all things, I think that means that Jesus could have known “how to succor His people according to their infirmities” without the literal and physical experience of them. This is something he could have known by the Spirit - yet He bore them. His stated purpose? “That he might blot out their transgressions.” So just how does Jesus taking upon himself not just my sins, but also my pains, sicknesses, and infirmities help Him blot out my transgressions? I’ll tell you what it does for me. Knowing His willingness to “descend below all things” - all my things - softens my heart and earns my trust.  It convinces me to turn to Him with my sins. He has, for me, gained the supreme position of empathy by His act. “Greater love hath no man than this” and surely “we love him because he first loved us.”
No wonder we covenant to always remember. No wonder we partake of broken bread in remembrance of His broken body and water in remembrance of the blood He shed for us. Has it had its full effect on me? Has the price he paid for perfect empathy and opportunity to help me turned my heart and and soul to Him as it should?
And then back to the original question — can my suffering draw me close to others in painful and difficult circumstances? Can the other side of suffering soften my heart too? Can it purchase precious empathy?

Teaching intolerance: fill in the blanks

"I don't see how anyone could like _______, do you?" That’s one way it could start. There are lots of options. Context would reveal that I obviously don’t like whatever it is,...and also (here’s the kicker) that anyone with a different taste is somehow deficient. A nice little wall.
It’s probably only banter, a way of yanking someone’s chain maybe - but it doesn’t happen in a vacuum.
This seemingly harmless phrase is only a half step away from labelling, demeaning, exclusion or bullying. Kids on the playground know that much. You hear it when something someone likes is different. Different from the preferences of the antagonist, and usually at least, the perceived majority of others. Young wrestlers, soccer players, and even very talented musicians, artists, or thespians could receive their first  intimations that different preferences might not be “ok” with others this way. Liking what they like, or pursuing their gift might have social costs.
Did kids learn this exclusive behavior from their parents? Could it have it’s roots in evolutionary biology even?  Diversity of interests among us seems like a very good thing - as we talk about it, but do we really believe it? Or is it easier just to pull for homogeneity? After all, sometimes it seems “everybody is doing it.” Behaviors in societies become contagious - is this ‘difference hazing’ only a natural part of the necessary mechanism? Or is it something - like a cancer - that as it grows threatens the health of the whole?
Now, there are times when norms aren’t merely opinions. Sometimes the norm (and sometimes the exception) carries moral weight and involves either righteousness or wickedness, obedience or disobedience to the laws of God. Then it absolutely matters. Yet even in such weighty matters, the way such influence is asserted should be different. A young Joseph Smith mused “if [his friends] supposed me to be deluded” then they should “have endeavored in a proper and affectionate manner to have reclaimed me,” rather than the persecution he faced to his dying day.
I digress - it’s those things that don’t carry a moral weight that I speak of though. Paul taught of the diversity of gifts and roles in the Kingdom of God saying, “the eye cannot say to the hand, I have no need of thee: nor again the head to the feet.” Exclusion in these scenarios would be literally crippling. Is it any less crippling to our society when we practice (and model) such intolerance upon (or for) the rising generation?

The Shadow of Suffering

It was Friday, April 26th, the day before my 40th birthday. Usually a day filled with joyful anticipation, this time I had a basketball sized knot in my stomach - and it was all because of my goal. I had decided months ago that because my 40th birthday fell on a Saturday, and I’m a little afraid of getting old, that I wanted to go big. I told my family and then my extended family that I was going to run 40 miles to commemorate my 40th birthday. It was fine, I had plenty of time to train.
As it grew closer though, clashes between my schedule and training goals allowed for a comfortable procrastination. I did run 20 miles out of the blue one Saturday - The last five of them were miserable enough that I nearly abandoned my goal right then. I concluded not to decide - then. “Weak and vulnerable moments are no time to be making plans for what you want for the future” I told myself. When my confidence returned I planned runs of 25, 30, and 35 miles on successive Saturdays, assuring myself that the jump from 12 to 20 was what caused my misery to be so profound. That was a month ago now, and none of that had happened. That 20 mile Saturday remained the zenith of my training. Not wanting to give up on my goal so easy though, I began to prepare myself for suffering. I strategized in my mind and began to think of the run as an exploration of my own vulnerability. There is so much suffering out there in the world - so many people going through rough things, perhaps this experience would help me react with more compassion, gain more insight, and appreciate the way that the Lord comes to us in our time of need. I had a cause, and a cause can be even better than training.
Then Alma came to mind. Alma had taught the people in Gideon about the Savior. He taught that Jesus Christ would, “go forth suffering pains and afflictions of every kind”...taking upon Himself “the pains and sicknesses of His people” - all so that He might “know according to the flesh how to succor His people according to their infirmities” (Alma 7:11-14). This is a big deal - and it’s something I had known for a long time. I also understood that sinning with repentance in mind was a terrible and damnable thing, because it is making a mockery of the sacrifice of the Savior and using His suffering recklessly - as a commodity. In short caring, more about one's opportunity to commit sin than the pain and suffering the Savior endured to offer them cleansing from it. Jesus suffered not only for our sins, but also our pains and infirmities. I wondered how He felt about those who willingly submitted themselves to pain and suffering - for recreational or competitive aims. I wondered about the “no pain no gain” and “embrace the grind” type of slogans and what I was to understand about these things from the Savior's perspective. Even He learned obedience through the things He suffered (Hebrews 5:8).  So suffering could be used as a teaching tool - I thought about the pride cycle and the purpose I had found in trails and afflictions that I had suffered. In His efforts not to spoil the child He had not spared the rod. From the scriptural record, I am also convinced that God is not a suffering minimalist. When and how is it authorized as a method though? Is it something man can impose upon himself purposefully and not come under condemnation? Are there specific purposes God would approve of for doing so? “Ye must not perform anything unto the Lord” I remembered reading from Nephi, “save in the first place ye shall pray unto the Father in the name of Christ, that he will consecrate thy performance unto thee, that thy performance may be for the welfare of thy soul” (2 Nephi 32:9). So I asked in prayer, and sought to consecrate the experience to Him - if He would have it. It surprised me a little that I felt He would. I was pleased though, and less nervous. With His sanction, I knew it wouldn’t make it less hard necessarily, but more meaningful and valuable. As I asked, I admitted my lack of training and asked for His help, I found myself promising to take none of the glory for it - I would point to Him.