The Nature of God: Church Talk on May 21, 2023

This talk arose from a worry--that applies to any organization: namely, I fear sometimes that basic doctrines are getting lost in the pursuit of jargon. That is, people within an organization know what to say or what to object to or what to tell other people to think or do, not necessarily what they actually believe, their organization/church's belief system/theology. 

I didn't start my talk with the above passage. Rather, my talk was an attempt to address basic doctrines regarding beliefs about God. The more I worked on the talk, the more I appreciated why any theology basically starts here. The nature of God determines to a degree--though not absolutely--the nature of worship and belief. 

The statements in the talk are ones that I converted to in my early twenties--and my beliefs on that score haven't changed much, though, in truth, I slightly toned them down. And I didn't quote from C.S. Lewis this time around though I included the quote below. 

Talks in my church are typically 10-20 minutes. I was the final speaker, what my father calls the "accordion" speaker: the speaker who has to expand or contract to meet the time. In this role, I often have to either slow way down when I talk or desperately add in remarks. This time, I cut a great deal, including extra examples and the "Practical How" section (it is after all another talk). 

* * *

Introduction

The first Article of Faith states, “We believe in God, the Eternal Father and in his Son, Jesus Christ, and in the Holy Ghost.”

This talk will address God, the Eternal Father.

Human beings have thought and spoken and written about God for millennia. Two common approaches are to turn God into an abstract theory or to turn God into a series of rules. Neither approach is correct.

LDS doctrine teaches 4 truths about God.

Nature of God

1. God is a person.

Moses and Abraham both spoke to the Lord face-to-face. In Doctrine & Covenants 130, Joseph Smith states emphatically that both the Father and the Son can make personal appearances. In addition, “The Father has a [tangible] body of flesh and bone” (22), which the vision of Joseph Smith confirms. Joseph Smith saw the Father and the Son as two separate entities.

2. God loves us.

 Moses 1:39 states that God’s “work and glory is to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of [humans].”

 God’s work and glory is accomplished through the Plan of Salvation.

Overview—

1. In the pre-mortal existence, we were intelligences whom God organized to be spirits.
2. We wanted to be like God—that goal required a physical body.
3. God created the world through Jesus Christ, so we could become mortal and gain a physical form.
4. God also made possible an Atonement through Jesus Christ. The Atonement provides grace, and it provides for a universal resurrection. Grace gives us the ability to start over when we make mistakes. Resurrection reunites our spirits with our bodies. Everyone will be resurrected.
5. At death, we separate temporarily from our bodies and enter the spirit world.
6. Many will be resurrected, reunited with their bodies, at the first resurrection, which occurs before the Millennium at the time of Christ’s Second Coming.
7. The final resurrection takes place before the Final Judgment, which is God’s Judgment.
8. We then enter one of three kingdoms of glory.

We are not told anything beyond this point because it is not necessary for us to know. Mortal life is a time of preparation, specifically preparation for the Second Coming. But we should remember—

3. God is eternal.

In Doctrine & Covenants 19, Joseph Smith reveals that God’s justice is endless and eternal because Endless and Eternal are God’s names. 

Truth #3 leads to Truth #4—

4. God is more intelligent than us.

Isaiah 55:8-9 states, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts” (also Abraham 3:19).

The passage refers to intelligence. Intelligence in the scriptures is not learning or IQ—it is the “light of truth.” In Doctrine & Covenants 88, we are told this light “quickens our understanding.” It comes to us through God’s presence (88:11,12).

Doctrine & Covenants 88 also tells us that “God comprehendeth all things and…is above all things and in all things and is through all things” (41).

In mortality, we can only comprehend God in part. Moses saw the Lord face to face but stated, “[None] can behold all [His] glory [in mortality]” (Moses 4:5, my emphasis).

The hymn “If You Could Hie to Kolob” includes the following lines in verses 4 and 5 regarding the home of God: “There is no end to virtue/there is no end to might/there is no end to light/there is no end to union/there is no end to youth/there is no end to priesthood/there is no end to truth/there is no end to love/there is no end to being/there is no end to glory.”

God, Heavenly Father, is more than us. My favorite example of God’s majesty comes from the Book of Job. Job is irritated at the unfairness of his life and calls to the Lord for aid. In the end, the Lord arrives. He says to Job, “Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?” (Job 38:4). After a few more verses in which the Lord speaks of “things too wonderful…to know,” Job says, in sum, “Okay, okay. Sorry. I am unworthy. I beg pardon. Please listen to me” (Job 42:1-6). And the Lord listens and blesses him.

So how do we reach God, who is so far beyond us?

Reaching God through Love

Reaching God is a lifelong journey that can only be accomplished through the exercise of faith. In 1 Corinthians chapters 11-14, Paul warns against imagining that the gap between us and God can be bridged by a checklist. (As C.S. Lewis would say, “God is not a tamed lion.”)

Paul writes, “Whether there be prophecies, they shall fail. Whether there be tongues, they shall cease. Whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away…and now abideth faith, hope, charity but the greatest of these is charity” (13:8,13).

The word “charity” is a translation of the word agape, which is the highest love, specifically God’s love for us and our reciprocal love for Him.

Jesus stated, “And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart and with all thy soul and with all thy mind and with all thy strength: this is the first commandment” (Mark 12:29-30).

In the Book of Mormon, this love flows outwards from God through parents to their offspring: “Believe in God; believe that he is, and that he created all things, both in heaven and in earth; believe that he has all wisdom, and all power, both in heaven and in earth; believe that [humans] do not comprehend all the things which the Lord can comprehend…if ye have known of his goodness and have tasted of his love…if ye do this, ye shall always rejoice, and be filled with the love of God…And ye will not have a mind to injure one another, but to live peaceably, and to render to [all people] according to that which is their due” (Mosiah 4: 9-13).

So the best way to grow closer to God is to love God!

We can learn HOW to love God through Jesus Christ.

Jesus Christ, the Bridge

In the New Testament, the letters of Paul continually remind us that God loves us so much, he sent his Son, who is our bridge to God. Paul writes in 1 Corinthians, “For now, we see through a glass darkly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then, shall I know even as I also am known” (13:12).

I am known is the powerful message of the gospel. It is possible for God to know us and for us to grow closer to God—to love God more—because of Jesus Christ.

Understanding God Better Through the Example of Jesus Christ

First, Jesus Christ instructs us to pray. The template for prayer that he provides starts, “Our Father who art in Heaven.” The prayer expresses respect for God and forgiveness of others. It also includes petitions.

Remember Job. He continued to petition despite his awe of the Lord. Likewise, there are several parables that refer to people never giving up on their desires, such as the woman who searches for a coin and the widow who pleads with a judge. They cared so much, they didn’t give up. Likewise, we can demonstrate to God how much we care through continual prayer.

Jesus also models for us God’s character—after all, we came to Earth to learn to be like Him.

What Jesus models most is the value God gives each person.  

The New Testament is full of examples of Jesus Christ caring for an individual. One great example is Zacchaeus. Zacchaeus was a tax collector, not everyone’s favorite person. He was a short guy—I can relate!—who climbed into a tree to watch Jesus Christ pass. Jesus looked up into the tree and called, “Come down. I’m eating at your house today.”

Zacchaeus was thrilled. He climbed down and took Jesus and his apostles to his home. After feeding them, he promised to pay back any money he had collected improperly.

Jesus didn’t listen to what we moderns would refer to as Twittering. There were people at the time who muttered about Jesus eating with Zacchaeus because of who Zacchaeus was (his role or identity). They were very critical. He paid no heed. He reached out to Zacchaeus for Zacchaeus’s sake.

Other examples of Jesus focusing on the individual: The woman with health problems who touched Jesus’s robe in a crowded street. He immediately turned, spoke to her, and healed her. He also spoke to the woman at the well about her life circumstances and her beliefs. Many parables told by Jesus emphasize the rescue of an individual: individual sheep, the individual prodigal son, the individual saved by the Good Samaritan.

Practical “How”

At the day to day level, we can grow closer to God through prayer and valuing others. Both practices are more basic and more complex than they sound. Finding time to pray involves deliberately setting aside time and pondering what one needs to communicate. Valuing others involves patience and tolerance and many qualities that take time to master.

A good starting point is gratitude. Remembering what we have, the benefits that enhance our lives, the beauties that surround us can help us appreciate God’s blessings, the wonder of God, and God’s perspective [Note: I considered but would likely not have included recent studies that indicate that when people’s mental health improves, they are less likely to look at others in terms of “identity” but rather as layered individuals--the insight straddles the line between doctrine and my personal libertarian politics].

A great hymn about gratitude is “How Great Thou Art” (Hymn 86 in the LDS Hymnal, [the linked version falls into the category of "Go big or go home!!"]).   

Final Thoughts

Jesus Christ represents his Father. Like Jesus Christ, God cares for each of us individually. We can become closer to God by praying to Him in Christ’s name and by following Christ’s example to value the individual.

As we make the effort to grow closer to God, our souls will cleave to the light that emanates from (through) God and blessings will follow.

Hugh Woodbury Talk August 28, 2022

Good morning, Brothers and Sisters. It is good to be here with you and share some thoughts on the “Constant Exercise of Our Faith.”

I hope I can bring some aged wisdom for you and not just the ramblings of a very old man.

First, I'll point out that I am the “Accordion Speaker.” As the last speaker, I have to compress or expand my talk so our meeting will end at the right time. I will do the best I can to accomplish this.

Now about faith. Faith is described in Hebrews, Chapter 11:1. Using a modern translation, it reads, Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.

In thinking about this definition, I realized that faith has been with me all my life. In fact, I believe that faith is what got me to where I am now.

Furthermore, I believe that we all live daily by faith. We can plan, and we should plan, but we can’t perfectly predict and our plans can change very quickly. So, indeed, we show our faith constantly.

Unfortunately, there are people who have faith and hope in wrong and even bad things, but I won’t talk about that.

So, the real questions we should ask ourselves are, What do I have faith in? What do I hope for? What is the best track for me to be on now?

The short answer is that we should live the 10 commandments and have faith in ourselves, in the restored gospel, and as Christians, in our Lord, Savior, and Redeemer, Jesus Christ.

But I will now give a longer answer and speak about the track that I took starting a “long” time ago in the 1930s, which, at my age now, I call “ancient history.”

Each one of us has an unique story to tell. As we share our stories, we can strengthen each other’s faith. So as I talk about my story, think about how you got from there to here and how your faith played an essential role in your life.

This is my story.

I grew up in Southern California in a Los Angeles County district called Altadena. This is between the City of Pasadena and the San Gabriel Mountains. A wonderful place 80 years ago--but I must say that Maine is just as good. I love Maine.

My mother was extremely active in the Church, particularly in Relief Society, serving at one time as the Stake Relief Society President.

My father was never a member of the Church, and we had zero religious activity in our home. However, my father did say, "You should go to Church to find a good wife."

I consider my father as one of the most ethical men that I've known, and he supported my mother and us three boys in our Church activities and lived as a good example for his sons.

There were few children in our Ward, so few that I was 11 years old in 1939 when Primary was first organized in the Pasadena, California Ward. I memorized the 13 Articles of Faith to graduate at age 12.

The first meetings that I remember were in the Pasadena Odd Fellows Hall. Just before WWII started, the Ward had received a permit to build its own chapel, so the permit was still valid in spite of the war.

So, the question was whether we should use that permit to start building immediately or wait until after the war. This was discussed in a special priesthood meeting. The result was that we supported our Bishopric in starting the building immediately but in a limited way.

On the property that the Ward had bought, we built a recreational hall which initially also served as our chapel. And the house on the property was turned into classrooms. After WWII, we added a real chapel on the front grounds.

When I and my two brothers each reached the age of 12, we went to Priesthood meetings. At that time, these were held early Sunday morning, followed by a break so that the brethren could go home to bring their families to Sunday School.

My brothers and I took the local trolley car from Altadena (our home) to Priesthood meetings, which were held early Sunday mornings. Our mother would then drive us all back home after we had all attended Sunday School.

At that time, the Sacrament was passed during Sunday School and also during Sacrament meetings, which were held in the evening.

Later, our Ward was divided, so there was a Pasadena Ward and an East Pasadena Ward. The two Wards met in the same building with an overlapping time schedule that was used throughout the Church when two Wards used one chapel.

My family remained in the Pasadena Ward but nearly all the younger families that still had children at home were in the new East Pasadena Ward. Among other things, this resulted in there being only a few, very few like two or three, young single adults in my Ward. So, after I attended our Sacrament meetings in the late afternoon I stayed for the East Pasadena Ward Sacrament meetings in the early evening.

After those evening meetings, we, the young single adults, would have a “fireside” inviting someone in the Stake to speak in one of our homes and then socialize afterwards.

It was at one of these “firesides” that I first met Joyce Nicholes, my future wife. She had just graduated from BYU and was invited to come to California to stay with friends she met at BYU and who lived in the East Pasadena Ward.

I was immediately impressed with her, so much so that I called her that week and asked her for a date. This was actually my first one-on-one date!

I well-remember that when I went to pick her up, she invited me in and then excused herself and came back dressed differently. I thought that she was just changing her dress she had worn to work into something simpler.

But she told me much later that she thought I would be wearing something like I wore to Church, which was a really old suit handed down from my paternal grandfather. I guess it made me look very dignified.

Not so. I showed up wearing very common street clothes.

Joyce took an art class several evenings each week. To earn money, she ran a mimeograph for a company. In those days, the mimeographs were run completely by hand. She told me later that it was so boring that she would quietly sing hymns in the mimeograph corner, which amused the janitor.

After several more dates that summer, Joyce returned to her home in Provo, Utah to get a degree at BYU in teaching as her degree in art, by itself, did not provide a living. She later gained interesting stories about teaching art to high school football players on the one hand and young Primary School kids on the other.

Joyce and I then began sending newsy letters back and forth.

The following year, my mother, my younger brother’s girlfriend (and future wife), and I drove to the Colorado School of Mines for my brother’s graduation. I invited Joyce, and we picked her up in Provo.

On our return, we had supper with Joyce’s family. Both my mother and Joyce’s father were strong extroverts, and they carried on a delightful conversion. I felt this was a very good sign: My family was approved!

However, my mother was appalled at my “slow courting,” and I admit that it didn’t amount to much. But I didn’t know how. I grew up with two brothers, no sisters, and I always played with boys since there was only one girl my age in my neighborhood that was full of boys, and I did not read romance stories.

Another challenge for me was that I didn’t know how to dance, and I avoided all Church and school dances which we had in those days during the week. I and a male friend called dancing, “A waste of lost motions.” But we both eventually changed our minds.

So, very soon after I arrived in Schenectady, New York, I signed up for dancing lessons since I wanted to be able to take Joyce dancing if the occasion arose. I got pretty good and felt competent enough to take a girl to Church dances, which I did, but dancing for me was never a natural talent.

I finished my schooling, including college and post-graduate studies, all in Pasadena, and interviewed for jobs here in the East.

I chose the East as there were good jobs here in experimental physics which I enjoyed. I accepted one with the General Electric Research Laboratory in Schenectady, New York, and it did turn out to be an excellent job.

I was the last of three boys to leave home and the only one in my family to end up in the East! But I resolved to visit my Western family at least ever other year, which I did. I would save one week of vacation so I would have 3 weeks the next year when I went West.

My mother was very concerned that I might lose the Church in--what shall I call it?--the “Church-less” East.

But it was not so. When I arrived in Schenectady, I called the Church District President. (They didn’t have Stakes and Wards yet but rather Districts and Branches under the direction of the current Mission President.)

I inquired if there was a Church family that had an extra bedroom for rent. The answer was much better then I expected. There were four Church young men and an older widower renting an upstairs flat and it was just around the corner from where I was renting a bedroom. I found that “second floor flats” were very common here in the East, the owners living on the first floor and renting out the second floor which had bedrooms, a kitchen and a small living room. This was the first time I had heard of second floor flats.

So I walked over and, yes, there would be an empty bedroom at the end of the week, and they would gladly have me. This was in 1953.

My goodness, didn’t we six bachelors live cheaply as we were sharing the cost of the rent!

And The Bachelors is what we were called by the Branch members.

We were amused that we were counted as a zero family by the women’s Relief Society, as one family by the men’s Elders group, and as five families for the small Branch budget which they had in those days.

The way we worked our suppers was that I would set up the menu and buy the food. The one who got off work the earliest, which was 4:30 PM, would do the cooking and the others would do the cleanup.

We each made our own breakfasts and lunches or bought them. For me, very good cheap lunches were served at the G.E. Research Laboratory where I worked.

So for one and a half years, I lived with four other young bachelors and an older widower, and we were all seeking the same thing: A young lady to marry in the temple!

Schenectady Branch had zero possible wives available since the Church women were only there because they were all married to men who worked for General Electric. But nevertheless, we all succeeded in our goal.

Of course I had already picked out my wife, Joyce, but she didn’t know it at that time, and she also lived 2500 miles to the west in Provo, Utah. And we did get married in the Salt Lake City, Utah Temple in 1955, but that is another story.

Schenectady Branch was wonderful. At that time, all the families, except for one or two, were from the West with the men working for General Electric. Because of World War II, many of them did not have the experience of the Mutual Improvement Association referred to as MIA. MIA was the Church’s program for social activities for single adults 12 to 27 years of age and held Tuesday evenings.

Most of us in the Branch, married and unmarried, were very anxious now to make up for that lost activity. Among them we had a number of very talented members who were especially trained in drama. We had dances, outings, a choir and plays. The scripts for the plays were created annually by the Church for the MIA program.

I love acting. Just give me a script, I would say, and I would be going strong. I was often cast as someone like Scrooge, who was a bad character in the beginning but turned good in the end. And once I was cast as a nice old man who is called to his “heavenly home,” dying in the first scene. I moved slowly off the stage, leaving my stage family in shock and near tears. We did that part so well that the director had tears in her smiling eyes when I came out to the rear of the audience after “dying”.

And we had dances, and parties, and outings, and a choir. It was a new social experience for me and I had a wonderful time.

So how does this relate to faith? I answer with the following:

By staying close to good Church members and being active in serving in the Church, we can keep ourselves on the right track, which, while challenging at times, will lead us to true happiness.

The phrase Faith, Hope, and Charity contains a great truth. Having faith in good hopes followed by charity is indeed the true path.

In the name of our Lord, Savior, and Redeemer, Jesus Christ. Amen

Mother's Day Talk: May 2021

Debate is worth doing! But Lewis had the humility to see the danger.

I gave the following talk this past Mother's Day. I enjoyed getting feedback from my sisters and interviewing my mother for the talk's primary examples.

I also enjoyed the opportunity to discuss faith, a principle/concept that I believe has lost credence in modern society. The competition between political parties, institutions, sects, religions, pundits, chatrooms, Twitter threads, YouTube videos, cliques, and organizations over their ideological significance has resulted in a "win at all costs" attitude. Groups must be utterly and exhaustively (no loose threads) right or utterly and entirely and objectionably wrong. 

Flawed people/flawed systems that do the best they can, "line upon line," and "Lord, I believe--help thou my unbelief" are not favorable positions these days. Consequently, "know" is often conflated with "have faith in." Acts of hope, trial-and-error, and questioning are (temporarily) losing meaning and influence while the language of knowledge (facts, tests, empiricism) is being applied improperly to the most inconsequential and fleeting emotions, opinions, political debates, philosophies, and labels.

Since I believe in the rise and fall of civilizations, I believe the language of faith will return to discussions of belief while science will regain its necessary vocabulary.

The talk is mainly about women of faith in the New Testament, but I present my fears about the fading of faith--or rather my answer to those fears--throughout the talk.

* * *

Good morning!

I am Kate Woodbury, the youngest daughter and the youngest child of Joyce and Hugh Woodbury, who are also members of this congregation.

I am speaking today of women of faith in the New Testament. The choice of scriptures is especially fitting since the New Testament is my mother’s favorite book of scriptures. She impressed on me from my early years that many of the followers of Jesus were women. They found purpose and freedom in his teachings. They had faith in Him. 

I am going to talk about a few of these women. But first, I am going to address faith. Faith is a powerful principle. Although it is not exclusive to religion, it has an important role in religious practice.

Faith, states Hebrews 11:1, “is the substance or assurance of things hoped for but not seen.” We are encouraged in both the Bible and in The Book of Mormon to test faith, to try it out. But faith does not carry the same meaning or objective as proof or knowledge.

According to Joseph Smith and other church leaders, faith is a “cause” or motivator, not a conclusion. A passage in Lectures on Faith states, “Was it not the hope which you had, in consequence of your belief in the existence of unseen things, which stimulated you to action and faith, or belief, for the acquisition of all knowledge, wisdom and intelligence. [You would not act] unless you did believe that you could obtain them[.]”

Knowing stuff is a static, narrow state. Faith, on the other hand, encompasses largeness of heart, a way of seeing the world. It can be as small as a mustard seed. It can wax and wane yet remain powerful because it never wholly dies. It can handle seeming contradictions because it recognizes “the universe…that was framed by the word of God” (Hebrews 11:3). The language of faith resides in visions and dreams and poetry and parables.

The Parable of the Persistent Widow is a great example of faith in action. The parable tells of an unjust judge. A widow has a case, only she isn’t being heard by the unjust judge. Yet she refuses to give up. In modern-day parlance, she files a complaint and then motion after motion. She keeps going back to court. Finally, the judge throws up his hands and listens to her.

At the end of the parable, Jesus uses the reaction of the unjust judge to point out how much more readily than earthly authorities, Heavenly Father desires to respond to our cries for help.

The Parable of the Persistent Widow occurs in the New Testament. The next examples are women of the New Testament who followed Christ and helped support the early church.

I asked women in my immediate family for suggestions. My mother spoke of Elizabeth, the mother of John, and of Mary, the mother of Jesus. She pointed out that these women were well-read in the scriptures and were not afraid to discuss them. When Mary became pregnant with Jesus, she visited Elizabeth, who currently was pregnant with John the Baptist. When Mary neared, Elizabeth greeted her with joy: “For, lo, as soon as the voice of thy salutation sounded in mine ears, the babe leaped in my womb for joy. And blessed is she that believed” (Luke 1:44-45). Mary responded with the Song of Mary or the Magnificat in which she quoted Hannah from 1 Samuel: “My soul magnifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God, my Savior” (1 Samuel 2:1). Mary and Elizabeth were aware of the parts they were playing in their nation and in history.

At the end of our conversation, my mother added, “And I’ve always wondered—who cooked the Last Supper?”

My sister Beth highlighted the woman at the well and pointed out that she is “one of the first people to learn from Jesus’s own mouth that He is the Messiah.” Jesus encounters the woman at the well during his return to Galilee, early in his three-year ministry. Although it was unusual for a Samaritan woman to speak to a Jewish man, the woman at the well had a lengthy exchange with Jesus. She asked him questions. She even challenged him—Why are you speaking to me? She called him a prophet and asked that he give her “living water” (John 4:11). She shared her beliefs with him and declared, “[T]he Messiah is coming” (John 4:25). To her, Jesus stated, “I who speak unto thee am he [the Messiah]” (4:26). She rushed to tell others about her experience.

I selected Joanna. She was one of Jesus Christ’s disciples. Alongside other women, she supported his ministry. After Jesus’s crucifixion, she and other women accompanied Joseph of Arimathea to the sepulcher. Imagine the bravery that must have taken! She and the other women returned home to prepare spices and ointments for a more complete burial. They then returned to the sepulcher after the Sabbath to finish the funeral preparations. They found the stone in front of the tomb rolled away and the tomb empty. They also encountered “two men…in shining garments” who asked, “Why seek ye the living amongst the dead?” (Luke 24:4-5). Joanna and the other women ran to report what they had experienced.

Lydia

My sister Ann provided the names and details of many women who helped the early church survive and expand. For example, she wrote, “Priscilla…with her husband Aquila lived, worked, and traveled with the Apostle Paul. They are described as providing a presence that strengthened the early Christian churches.” Paul lived with Priscilla and her husband for a time and “was generous in his recognition and acknowledgement of his indebtedness to them.” Another of these early church leaders, Phoebe, bears the title of deaconess or minister. A woman from a Greek city, she performed a sacred commission for Paul and likely delivered his letter to the Romans. And Lydia, a working woman who dyed wool, opened her home to Paul and to fellow Christians. She was a “God-fearer,” one of many Gentiles who congregated around Jewish synagogues out of interest and sympathy with the truths offered by Judaism. She is often considered the “first ‘European’ Christian convert.”

All these women approached, served, and engaged with Jesus and the gospel in different ways. They studied. They considered. They acted. They helped. They testified. They informed. They instructed. They pondered. They asked questions. They welcomed. They shared. They showed love. Their faith was the faith that Joseph Smith describes. It is a power that keeps us aware and invested in each day’s endeavors.

Faith is so powerful, yet its power often gets lost in the modern world. Empiricism, proof, factual knowledge—all these things have their place. They are even necessary in various fields and disciplines.

Faith has distinct value and influence. It is a vital part of belief. It is transcendent. From Alma 32, which talks about faith, readers will encounter concepts such as hope, belief, heart, light, enlarge, enlighten, growth, fruit, feast. When we plant the seed of faith, we begin to see and, therefore, know how its growth affects us, to estimate its impact on us. The challenge is that during the examination of the self (how am I being impacted?), faith becomes temporarily dormant (Alma 32: 34). It needs to be reclaimed, and the search resumed.

Faith, therefore, is a never-ending process, a constant effort of “looking forward…to the fruit [of it]” (Alma 32:40). Can we ever truly totally understand God in this lifetime?

No. And that’s okay! Instead, each one of us can walk a path towards God every day. That path is formed by Christ. We walk it by faith.

The path we walk is one we each have to search for through our individual efforts. I mentioned the Persistent Widow. The Parable of the Lost Coin from the New Testament tells of a woman who searched and searched for one lost coin.

I’ve been there! I recently thought I’d lost my glasses and searched all over my house, retracing my steps until I found them in my pantry, of all places! Like the woman in the parable, I rejoiced (I also rolled my eyes at myself).

My experience reminded me of a story my mother told me when I was a teen. She had also lost something—her purse which had gotten “stacked” with chairs after a church activity. Praying, she told me, cleared her mind. When she returned to the church building—we lived right next door—she walked directly to where her purse was hidden.

Searching for something is such a relatable activity. We understand the anxiety, the need, and the peace that arrives when our need is fulfilled.

Jesus tells the parable of the woman’s search when his listeners question him. During his ministry, he accepted and ate with many people, even those deemed unworthy. Some of his listeners objected to Jesus’s behavior. In response, he told them the story of the lost sheep, lost son, and lost coin.

Just as we search for things we have lost, Jesus searches for the individual—he offers each one redemption.

Like the women of the parables, the historical women of the New Testament who anticipated Christ and supported Christ and witnessed of Christ are excellent examples of searching for and following that individual path through faith. In fact, there are many more such women: Anna, a prophetess; Rhoda; four daughters of Philip; Lois, Eunice, Susanne, Chloe, Claudia, Tabitha or Dorcas, Tryphena, Junia, Damaris, sisters Mary and Martha. 

These women from the New Testament can inspire all of us to take on the experiment of faith, to embrace the gospel or “good news” of Christ’s Atonement and Resurrection and enjoy the effects of that good news in our lives. To a woman he encountered during his travels, Jesus stated, “Daughter, be of good comfort; thy faith hath made thee whole” (Matthew 9:22). To a mother, another persistent woman, he declared, “O woman, great is thy faith: be it unto thee even as thou wilt” (Matthew 15:28). To the woman who anointed his feet, he assured, “Thy faith hath saved thee; go in peace” (Luke 7:43). 

Faith brought these women comfort and blessings and wholeness and peace. What Jesus offered to these women, he offers to us all.

Untrustworthy Arguments Used by Progressives--But Conservatives are Also Culpable

The political landscape in America is currently filled with distasteful arguments--many of those arguments come from the left. 

However, it would be incorrect to say that these arguments are exclusively "leftist." The various arguments below are ones that I not only hear now but that I heard growing up from conservative groups and in my (relatively) conservative church. 

I believe that conservatives, specifically religious conservatives, need to take responsibility for these arguments if they are to combat them.

Below are some common untrustworthy arguments. I present the arguments. I then discuss why religion, specifically, has some justification to use these arguments. I then explain why I feel that even religious institutions and individuals should question the use of such arguments. 

Untrustworthy Arguments

Doomsdaying

"The world is falling to pieces--it is so much worse than it has ever been." 

This argument demonstrates the capacity for humans to place themselves at the center of everything, including time. So many periods/eras have included upheavals, from the Reformation in England to the 1960s. And yet humans go right on insisting that "no one has ever seen times like this," emphasizing the self-centered notion that all of history has led up to now. There is often an accompanying inability to learn from the past--to comprehend, for example, that abstracted rage can have truly horrific outcomes in which members of the same party turn on each other (the French Revolution, for instance). 

When I was growing up, my parents did not use this argument. They wanted me to graduate from high school, go to college, earn a degree, get a job, and move out.  Doomsdaying would not have been conducive to that end. 

I did, however, encounter the argument at church. It was used to defend the need for religion in the face of a disintegrating world.

Body versus Spirit 

"The body is dangerous and dirty while the spirit is the pure 'real self.'"

It is easy to blame this argument on religion, but I hear it these days as much from academic theorists as from fundamentalists. In fact, it is so common an argument in current and historical literature/popular culture, I can only assume it is part of the human experience. The first time one hits one's "funny bone"--or has troubles in the bathroom--the thought, "My body is against me" will rear its head. 

Unfortunately, the distaste for the body is often accompanied by a 1950s (dare I say, Victorian) cliche: people ignoring or denying that their physical bodies have biological functions. The body v. spirit argument is also often accompanied by anti-science attitudes or, these days, science politicized to the point of meaninglessness. 

I did not encounter this argument at home. My religious beliefs state that the body is good, the physical experience is good, and the worst sins or temptations come from pride, a sin of the spirit. Furthermore, my father is a physicist while my mother is an artist. Praising the physical form was common in the household in which I was reared.  My parents embraced the theology of our church. 

Our church membership, however, is (still) largely culturally Protestant. The idea of bad body versus good spirit crops up now and again, usually in off-hand comments. When I was growing up, it was, unfortunately, also associated with a vaguely unsympathetic attitude toward science, namely, that science was the worldly enemy to spiritual belief.  

Conflation of Know and Believe

"I KNOW this is true." (But "this" is actually a belief.) 

The conflation of know and believe appears to occur when the pursuit of truth (scientific, aesthetic, religious) loses ground to relativism. The pursuit of truth assumes, as Mulder would say, The truth is out there, even if it cannot be pinned down. People may disagree about what that truth entails but ultimately they agree that it can be found (or parts of it can be found) if diligently hunted for. 

In comparison, relativism promotes the idea that truth is whatever the individual states it is. After all, people do experience life as individuals. And self-expression can produce impressive explosions of creativity in art and music and thought.

However, few institutions are willing to pursue relativism to its natural end: a bunch of iconoclastic individuals following their own intensely individual codes without reference to an accepted ethical belief system.

Rather than return to the pursuit of truth (an endeavor that takes discipline, effort, time, and a willingness to self-correct), many institutions fall back on rules, allegiance to the group, and promises of utopia. Their rules grow and grow, becoming increasingly rigid and demanding, especially as members of those institutions or cliques conflate belief with knowledge. In an effort to produce (easy) stability, the group becomes the holder of what-is-true. An abstract realization of one's experiences--the story I tell myself or the story the group tells me about me--becomes FACT. 

It isn't. 

Even organizations that prize the hunt for truth are influenced by the ideas and language around them. Claiming, "I know" appears (on the surface) safer than claiming, "I believe." Consequently, in the past few years, the number of people in my church who "know" the church is true rather than "believing/having faith in/hoping" has increased. 

As a result, not only is the language of knowledge under fire, the language of faith (regarding religion, art, poetry, literature, personal narratives, and humor) is being corrupted and lost. Rigid literalism is gaining sway in the very areas that the language of faith was meant to protect.

Lack of Context

"It doesn't matter what that text actually says any more than it matters what actually happened in the past. People who argue for context are ___________."

Not good, according to this argument. 

A hunt for context means asking, What does this text actually mean? Will it help if I understand the text as the author intended it be understood? What actually happened in the past? Will it help if I understand the people back then, including their mindsets and conditions? 

Those who pursue truth will answer, "Yes, it will help." 

Here's the snag: researching context takes time. It also involves humility--accepting that answers might change as new information gets uncovered. 

It is easier for those who eschew the pursuit of truth to fall back instead on name-calling: People who argue in favor of context are everything-phobic and everything-ist. 

Up through my 20s, people in my church occasionally accused me or members of my family of being "intellectual(ists)." It is a damaging accusation in many conservative circles since it raises the specter of the Ivory Tower academic who abstracts basic truths into nothingness (see above).

However, in this case, I and members of the family were not extolling abstract relativism. Quite the opposite! We were suggesting that learning more about a text, person, scripture, place, and time--its physical reality--could advance understanding. 

The accusers (sadly, ironically) were practicing a form of relativism (likely not to their knowledge): "All I have to do is read this scripture and ask what it means to me. Then I will have a spiritual experience which no one can gainsay since it is a form of 'knowledge.'" 

To put this another way, the accusers were relying on a very attractive intellectual theory to justify their name-calling. 

Utopia as an Immediate End Goal

"If you would only...then the world would be perfect." 

Life is messy and difficult. The pursuit of truth, as mentioned above, takes time and energy--and humility since it involves the ability to change as new information is revealed and tested. When people pursue truth, utopia is not possible (not in mortality). New information will change the so-called utopian society immediately. Goals will change. People will change. They will make mistakes. Beliefs will change. Mistakes will occur. A perfect society is something we can hope for (believe in) and maybe even strive for. But it cannot be guaranteed. Based on the vagaries of human nature, it is likely not even possible. 

Lots of politicians (from the beginning of time) have tried to guarantee it anyway. 

They are lying. 

Regarding religion: I have seen my church alter over the years from a church of preparation to a church that focuses on getting its members into heaven (utopia).

The church of preparation still exists--and the church that will get its members into heaven was always there: it may be impossible from a religious perspective to disentangle these two perspectives. Human beings being what they are, it may be equally impossible from a political perspective. Humans are fully capable of always imagining a different (better) future/life than the one we seem headed towards/inhabiting. 

However, when getting people into heaven (utopia) becomes the only narrative, blasphemy and legalism are not far behind. It is one thing to encourage people to do better, to prepare people (in religious terms) to meet Christ and/or God and/or... 

It is another to present a checklist (with acceptable vocabulary) toward achieving that better world. 

Most religions, I believe, fall somewhere between those two positions. They believe in a hereafter. They focus on helping people survive the here-and-now while giving them rituals and daily practices to pursue/build a relationship with deity. 

Many of these religions can also be pushed by outside pressures into providing guarantees/checklists/acceptable vocabulary, often in the fruitless wish to "compete" with more worldly institutions and political ideologies. After all, politicians love to guarantee outcomes when all they can truly do is present possible policies and programs that may help create good outcomes.

Why Religion Has Some Justification For These Arguments

Doomsdaying

End of times is a constant theme in most religions, from Ragnarök to the Second Coming. To an extent, it is the job of theology to tackle the big picture of what is to come.

Religions almost always present some solution or amelioration to this ending. It's coming--here's how to prepare/deal.

Politicians who rely solely on doomsdaying don't seem to be offering much. (Everything stinks! Vote for me anyway!) Religions should keep in mind that after awhile, doomsdaying pales and even becomes a little samey.

Body versus Spirit

As stated above, this split seems to be such a fundamentally human reaction (my "self" versus the uncooperative body I have that needs new eyeglasses), I'm not sure the dichotomy can be entirely removed from human perception. 

Many religions at least offer a way to deal with the uncooperative body. And many of them have also (to some degree) backed off the anti-science sentiments, as those sentiments have proved increasingly unhelpful for biological, mammalian beings experiencing life in the physical realm. 

Conflation of Know and Believe

There is no justification for this conflation. It confuses what constitutes knowledge with personal preference. It debases the language of belief. It creates untenable and increasingly abstracted approaches to everyday life. Religious individuals and groups need to cut it out. When politicians do it, it is "nails on the chalkboard" irritating (I am old enough to use that analogy).

Lack of Context

Lack of context is understandable in every facet of society. It is tremendously demanding and time-consuming to insist that people learn stuff. In addition, most religious groups see their members sporadically, especially now-a-days. Educating an entire membership may not even be possible.

And, let's be honest, relativism is to an extent unavoidable. We are all individuals who have to each separately deal with the stimuli of the world. "This is what this event/scripture means to me" is always going to be a factor. The personal conversion/testimony/internal change (that can lead to external changes) is often a seminal element of a religion's attraction/meaning. 

I advocate religious groups keep the focus on the individual but be less obnoxious about avoiding context. Getting more information is a good thing, not a scary thing. C.S. Lewis argued that a believer need never fear an argument based on logic or information. It was the demon Screwtape, writing to Wormwood, who suggested the use of labels as opposed to grounded reasons.

Utopia as an End Goal

Like body versus spirit, the desire for utopia seems to be built into the human condition. As Breasted said, "It is important that the modern world should realise that the Messianic vision had a history of more than a thousand years before the Hebrew nation was born. This supreme form of social idealism is our inheritance from the human past."

The historical evidence that pursuing utopia before all else almost always ends in mass executions, pogroms, holocausts, witch hunts, terminations, loss of income, and other destructive events is often, unfortunately, ignored. It shouldn't be.

However, it should also be acknowledged that human beings are not going to give up wondering, pondering, believing in utopia, either before or after death. The atheists/cynics are just going to have to deal.

I suggest that religious groups--and this includes both the progressive members within my own church and that church's leadership--should cease obsessing about who gets into heaven. Pondering utopia may be part of the human condition. Deciding who belongs there (and why other people are wrong or right about who belongs there) is an impulse that should be fought. 

When a religion is doing its job, I believe it focuses the individual on individual growth--as a person, as a member of society--in regards to God (whomever one understands God to be). It is preparation theology. It is aided by information and context but ultimately it accesses and speaks to the non-"know" part of the brain, the part of the brain that enjoys art and music and poetry and undefinable moments of joy and pleasure and even sorrow.

I personally believe that these moments ultimately translate into a transcendent physical reality. In the meantime, religion can--through story, through music, through art, through visions, through dreams, through scripture--help people contemplate those bigger, more numinous ideas and perhaps even produce story, music, art, visions, dreams, and texts of their own. (There is admittedly a social purpose to religion, which I would not by any means denigrate--that is, religion also helps people come together, raise their kids, follow basic civilized behaviors that in the long run keep them and society stable. An entirely valid purpose but one I will save for a later post.) 

Determining who gets into heaven is God's job, not the religion's job.

Why The Above Arguments Harm Even Religion

Hopefully, the reason is self-explanatory. Enticing people through fear, belittling the physical experience, mocking scientific research, ignoring the difference between information/facts and beliefs, shrugging off the past and those who lived in the past, all while promising a kind of country club access to utopia--none of these arguments/attitudes are (1) helpful; (2) compassionate; (3) necessary. 

And they feed similar arguments in other far less desirable and far less justifiable venues within our society.

Taking a Name in Vain

Contrary to common usage, "Thou Shalt Not Take the Lord's Name in Vain" does not refer to expletives. In sum--the arguments can get rather complex--it refers to promising something in God's name and not following through.

A person who drops the Son of God's name into daily conversation as a kind of placeholder rarely means it as an oath. In truth, I don't find it offensive though I do find it tacky.

Like most commandments, this one is aimed more at believers than non-believers (or even indifferent believers): those who are engaged in the act of belief.

Like with many things, there is a line between absolute faith/perfection and the everyday, normal vagaries and weirdnesses of human existence.

That is, some believers will argue against any usage of the Lord's name while others will argue that calling oneself Christian or belonging to a church that carries the name of Christ is not automatically blasphemous, even if such Christians most of the time behave imperfectly.

Since I believe in a merciful God with a sense of humor, I tend to side with the latter argument.

However, I do believe that a line exists between trying one's best to live up to a standard or role model or belief system (receiving) and taking advantage of that standard or role model or belief system for other purposes (using). When it comes to using behavior, there is a line between appropriate using and inappropriate using.

The terms--"receiving" and "using"--come from Experiment in Criticism by C.S. Lewis, in which he argues that a good reader will "receive" a text: allow the text to speak, try to understand the text and the author, be swept up by the text, come away enlarged, even fulfilled. 

"Using," he argues, is when a text becomes a source for some other agenda, whether personal or political.

Although Lewis is speaking specifically about fiction, I find his definitions reflective of my feelings on a number of subjects. That is, I'm not arguing from C.S. Lewis backwards. Rather, I find his terms mirror how I feel about many issues, including "Thou shalt not take the Lord's name in vain."  

Both Jesus Christ and Paul argue in the New Testament that the ultimate gift of God--namely, his Son--is there to be received after which individuals will (hopefully) feel a true desire to demonstrate thankfulness for that gift through emulation, kindliness, and a desire to love God in return for His love.

Jesus Christ, then Paul, speak strongly against using--that is, they speak against a state of affairs where God or Christ become labels, forms of arguments, ways of getting people into a particular set or group or clique in order to become winners (as defined by that set or group or clique).

That is, Jesus Christ, then Paul, draw the line at political uses.

I will acknowledge that the line here can be difficult to parse. Obvious in some cases--less obvious in others. Where does use to pay homage or to educate or to promote allegiance to something bigger (bigger ideas, bigger hopes and dreams) edge over into use that becomes its own end: allegiance to the group, the image, the legal outcome (winning at all costs), or the words (pronouns, anyone)? When does use become a form of identification, not only by outsiders but by insiders? When does it turn into a way to distinguish/mark the winners?  

A "Hosanna Shout," I believe, is entirely lovely and appropriate--as are rousing choruses (see above). Sincere, even humorous books and articles on the topic--also appropriate. Religious art--most of the time--also appropriate. (Yeah, even the tacky stuff.)

The Son of God used in marketing (and please take into consideration that I am a proponent of the free market system) is nevertheless, less appropriate, no matter how well-meant the marketing. And arguments in the name of Christ to ignore fair laws are plainly wrong.

About a year ago, my church included the name of the Son of God in its URL. I'm not listing the name of my church here because, frankly, a lot of churches do this. 

I had a visceral negative reaction. It came from the same place as my visceral negative reactions to things like running over squirrels and lying about time off to my employer.

I hoped I would get over it. I thought, in all honesty, that I would. I was surrounded by people who praised the decision, people who saw it as a religious call, people who saw it as no big deal, people who had, in truth, visceral positive reactions. And by people, I should add, who accepted it as a given based on who made the decision.

I still cannot type the URL and I likely never will. I don't even Bookmark it. I use keywords to find the church website through Google when I need to.

I cannot speak for anyone else and would never try. The truth is, my lines in regards to various other religious issues are probably far more flexible than the lines of members who would disagree with me on this issue--nobody ever agrees about everything. However, the line here, for me, is fairly clear. And recent decisions are not making things easier for me in this regard.

This particular sub-blog of mine is monitored. I will not be allowing through any comment that attacks anyone for any reason, even a post that attacks by agreeing with me. Spiritual exegesis, anthropological insights, and general ponderings will likely be allowed. 

Battling Rhetoric: Is the World Becoming Less Spiritual?

Overused rhetorical phrases are often symptomatic of ideology--that is overused rhetorical phrases are used not to detail behavior or communicate beliefs but to establish arguments: If X is true, then Y must also be true.

Unfortunately, a common rhetorical argument in today's society is, "The world is becoming more secular and therefore less spiritual; consequently, the world needs more religion."

The point about secularism is debatable. Spiritual beliefs are still a large factor in many people's lives in America--and in their politics on both the left and the right. 

A related argument centers on the assumption that a state-religion or a homogeneous culture by default produces more spiritually-minded people. While one could argue that "spirituality" is not automatically tied to "church attendance," for the purposes of this post, I will connect the two.

Does a state-religion or homogeneous culture result in more church attendance and/or more sincere belief?
 
No.

A substantial number of people in the past, including during the Middle Ages, did not go to church despite the expectations of the state. Even the Puritans suffered in this regard (and it is helpful to remember that the Puritans only required other Puritans to be faithful churchgoers; the Massachusetts Bay Colony was filled with non-Puritans who were not part of that covenant).

Fast-forward several hundred years. When Alexis de Tocqueville arrived in America in the 1800s to observe American culture, he was stunned by the number of churches and by the fact that people attended them: it was so different from home! He praised religion as a positive influence on American politics; he also clarified that the number of "sects" ensured that positive influence:

In the United States, if a politician attacks a sect, this may not prevent the partisans of that very sect from supporting him; but if he attacks all the sects together, everyone abandons him, and he remains alone.

[All the clergy I interviewed] attributed the peaceful dominion of religion in their country mainly to the separation of church and state. I do not hesitate to affirm that during my stay in America, I did not meet a single individual, of the clergy or the laity, who was not of the same opinion on this point. 

In Europe, de Tocqueveille argued, religion and politics marched in opposite directions. Discussing religion in general, he distinguished the "habit" of religion from sincere belief. When "habit" and politics mix, the result is less than positive:

As long as a religion rests only upon those sentiments which are the consolation of all affliction, it may attract the affections of all mankind. But if it be mixed up with the bitter passions of the world, it may be constrained to defend allies whom its interests, and not the principle of love, have given to it; or to repel as antagonists, men who are still attached to it, however opposed they may be to the powers with which it is allied. The church cannot share the temporal power of the state without being the object of a portion of that animosity which the latter excites.

Hence, de Tocqueville argued, the power--and proliferation--of religion in a democracy. To those who worried about declining religious commitment in Europe, specifically France, he pointed to American democracy as a solution.

To put this in the most basic terms: separation of church and state plus competition ensures that more people will go to church--and believe in a theology--not less.

The Gallup Poll and/or the Gallup Poll for the Baylor Religion Surveys back up this lack of spiritual decline in the U.S.: weekly church attendance in the United States from 1974 to 2014 held steady at approximately 40%. Church attendance in the U.S. in the 1940s was slightly lower while the 1950s was something of a fluke with attendance in the high 40s. 66% of Americans in 2005 declared that "religion [is] important in my daily life."

40% is higher than church attendance in most European countries, including Greece, but not higher than in Ireland or Italy. 66% is also higher than in most European countries except, interestingly enough, in Greece, Italy, and Portugal.

Japanese  Home Altar

For those wondering about the supposedly non-religious Japanese, although few go to church, 64% pray on certain occasions while 54% visit a temple regularly and 72% believe it is important to have spiritual beliefs.

The difficulty here is separating church attendance from spiritual belief and spiritual belief from a particular type of devotion/adherence.

In recent years, Americans expressing allegiance to specific denominations has decreased, prompting declarations of "decreasing spirituality"--however, atheism in America has remained steady (4% since 1944) and church attendance has not declined. The reason: Nondenominational Evangelical congregations have risen spectacularly (these are individual congregations that vary from liberal to conservative, tending more towards conservatism, under a broad Protestant umbrella).

Setting aside church attendance, in America in 2005, 74% of participants in the Gallup Poll said they believe God is directly involved in the world. The connection between church attendance and spirituality here again is iffy since I go to church regularly, have strong opinions about theology, and I'm not sure I would have answered yes to that question.

However, my limited experience backs up the claim that secular freedom aids in the growth of religious feeling and that spirituality is in fact increasing rather than decreasing. It is not simply that religion is discussed more in the political arena (a reality about which I have intense reservations), it is that I encounter more discussions of religion in my workplace and among my acquaintances than I did twenty years ago. Students discuss their local church services (see nondenominational congregations above); friends discuss wanting to belong to a religious community or belief system; co-workers sincerely reference God and prayers when discussing another co-worker's family difficulties. I would be remiss not to mention the growing number of immigrant Muslims and Christians who discuss faith in their essays and conversations in heartfelt and genuine ways.

Proclaiming that "secularism" is harming religion and the "world is getting less spiritual" is rhetoric, not truth. As Rodney Stark points out, it is rhetoric that originated in Ivory Tower academe, not in religious thought (although many religious people have adopted it). He points out, for instance, that in surveys about religion from the twentieth century, the academic survey planners did not include questions about the paranormal because they believed that modern people don't believe in the paranormal. When the surveys were revised by more objective scholars to include such questions, the results were astounding: "82 percent told Gallup in [2007], 'I am sometimes very conscious of the presence of God.'" 61% responded that they believe in angels, and 55% that they believe in guardian angels.

The solution regarding this piece of rhetoric is not to pour scorn on the latter part of the rhetorical argument--"therefore, the world needs more religion"--or argue that it is false (the world isn't going to give up religion, anyway). The solution is for religions (and, I should add, all institutions plus politicians) to abandon rhetorical devices that plead a "lack" in order to offer a "more."

This type of argument smacks of con-artistry. Besides, as both C.S. Lewis and Dieter F. Uchdorf point out, fear is a lousy way to bring people to a knowledge of God.

C.S. Lewis discussing joining a church: When you have reached your own room, be kind to those who have chosen different doors and to those who are still in the hall. If they are wrong, they need your prayers all the more; and if they are your enemies, then you are under orders to pray for them. That is one of the rules common to the whole house.

C.S. Lewis discussing tyranny: My contention is that good men (not bad men) consistently acting [to impose "the good"] would act as cruelly and unjustly as the greatest tyrants. They might in some respects act even worse. Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. (My emphasis.)

Dieter F. Uchdorf: It is true that fear can have a powerful influence over our actions and behavior. But that influence tends to be temporary and shallow. Fear rarely has the power to change our hearts, and it will never transform us into people who love what is right . . . People who are fearful may say and do the right things, but they do not feel the right things . . . Unfortunately, this misguided approach to life and leadership is not limited to the secular world.