Comments on "Philosophy at the Field's Edge"

Before Thanksgiving last month, I had the opportunity to listen to a lecture about philosophy given by an ASU alumnus, Stephen Pluhacek, in regards to the thesis of his newest book, Philosophy at the Field's Edge, which he was promoting on my campus. He cited lots of esoteric, philosophical ideas unfamiliar to me: Epimethius, Heidegger's works, the Nihilism of Nietzsche, etc. But, in his speech, I was able to gather some of his intent. He posited that, perhaps, if human development had taken another turn 10,000 years ago, at the beginning of agriculture and domestication, that we might be a happier species. This is why he uses the metaphor of "the field."

Before agriculture, towards the end of the last ice-age, human beings were mostly hunter-gatherers, living in the stone age. It was with agriculture, that cities arose, and our paradigm of civilization was born. This is considered the "great leap forward" in human history: the beginning of philosophy, science, politics, religion, culture, etc. This happening has been held almost sacred by historians, and few thinkers have ever questioned the importance of it, or its causality to our current status as the most successful, and intelligent species on earth. His book is an exception.

It is popularly held that agriculture gave way to leisure, which provided the time and energy necessary for deep thought, experimentation, and refinement of existing technologies and art, as well as the invention of new types. So, as I listened to this philosopher talk about the philosophical life in the absence of agriculture, it seemed to me that he was forgetting this premise for his own art: biting the hand that feeds him, so to speak. However, I was reminded that many of the Native North American groups I have studied were hunter-gatherers right up until European contact, and some of them had very profound thoughts about the world around them, very refined art, and impressive technology. The influence of possible contact with Native Central Americans, who did practice agriculture, cannot be ignored in these cases, though. I never heard him reference Native Americans directly, but his lecture brought them to my mind time and again, which made me ask myself, "are we [western cultures] better off because we know the 'truth' about the world around us?"

Too bad we can't simply do as the eye doctor, when, after trying all different thicknesses and shapes of lenses, asks, "which is better: with, or without?" It is difficult to make a prediction about happiness and quality of life, without all the baggage associated with modernity, in a self-imposed stone age. Would we be better off? How could we tell? Is it possible to satisfy our needs, live in peace and equilibrium with nature, and retain and nurture our humanity? Interesting question. My answer would be a conditional "yes," conditional on the direction we want our species to go: if we wish to continue to progress toward an inter-stellar, extraterrestrial, super intelligent species, then I would say "no;" however, if we wish to work in the matrix of the natural world for which nature has fashioned us, my answer is "yes." The former is destination-oriented, the latter, while not void of goals (happiness, peace, etc.), is less concerned with progress, and more with perfection.

Before moving on, let me set something straight: I am a western man, a budding scientist, and I like it that way. If you heard romanticism in my voice during the last paragraph, it was not intentional. I am not inclined to believe the human race was happier during the stone age than we are now. Perhaps the world was more simple, instincts and emotions were more important to our survival, but I believe, as Hobbes did, that life in prehistory was "nasty, brutish, and short." I would like to believe in the noble savage, but my knowledge of human history wont allow it.

I think the reason why such romantic notions as the noble savage appeal to us, is because of the amoral, meaningless nature of our society at present: Nietzsche's nihilism. We yearn for the childhood of our existence, because the teen years are void of the imagined securities of infancy. I am currently experiencing this personally. Perhaps I should have gone through this years ago, when I was a teenager, but I've always been a late-bloomer. Even though I didn't know what "nihilism" was until recently, I have been experiencing it for some time. Nietzsche did not, however, encourage the advent of nihilism for its own sake, but to hasten its departure: the sooner we went through that phase, the sooner we could be done with it. He predicted that after this time of amorality and meaninglessness, we would find something higher and more meaningful to live for, and would finally mature as a species.

Dr. Pluhacek contended against Nietzsche by insisting that his philosophy, along with that of nearly all philosophers, is locked in our current paradigm of civilization dependent on agriculture and city life: philosophy in the field, and that nihilism would not be necessary to our happiness and maturity in a philosophy at the fields edge, or beyond the field. He didn't elaborate on this point, but once again I was reminded of the animistic worldview of pre-contact Native Americans, who found "meaning" in everything around them: incorrect meaning, of course, but meaning all the same.

Aside from being overly romantic, and playing to the "good old days" fallacy, my other criticism of his presentation is what I saw as the complete disregard for the biological side of human development (ie. evolution), emotion, and well-being. Granted, he is a philosopher, not a biologist, but he mentioned nothing about the biological causes of human motivation (our evolutionary drives), which we know to be mostly responsible for our sense of well-being and happiness. In my opinion, any philosophy which proposes to make mankind happier, must not be so naive as to presume this can be achieved in the absence of the biological sciences.

In response to the question I posed toward the beginning, I believe we are better off because we know the truth about the material world, and our place in it. I don't think we made a mistake by learning to cultivate the earth, and domesticate other animals (and ourselves). In fact, I believe it is part of our place in the world. I agree, however, that life in the city is not the lifestyle most conducive to human happiness. In a perfect world, I think we would see a return to the field, and not abandonment of it. In other words, people should divide their time between social life in the city, and living close to nature (growing their own food, taking care of domestic animals, and observing other animals in the wild, etc.).

In all, it was a stimulating argument, which provided me with much food for thought, but I don't think I'll buy his book.

Of short transfers, and other frustrations

This post is about my mission. To see previous posts, click on the mission tab under "labels."

As is any long-term and worth-while endeavor, my mission was full of frustrations and hardships, and even peppered with some regrets. Two of the hardest times in my mission were my two single transfers in one area (Biguacu, and Lisboa [Sao Jose]), when I was only there for 6 weeks, each time, and didn't have much measureable success. I have written only briefly about my time in Biguacu, but those short 6 weeks there with Elder Anderson had a great impact on me, and I still think about the people I knew there, and wonder how they are doing.

Another hard time in my mission were the 6 weeks right after I was transferred from Lisboa, so I was having it pretty rough for about 3 months there. My companion in Lisboa, Elder Zach Seeley from Utah, decided along with the mission president, to return home early, for health reasons, and President was sending me to Tubarao to be a zone leader along with Elder Michael Martinez from Texas (who came from a Mexican-American family). So, Lisboa would be "white-washed" (a term used in mission lingo to mean a complete change of missionaries).

President decided to put a companionship of sister missionaries there in our place, which was great news for the branch, but terrible news for the previous occupants of the apartment. Since I was the only one healthy enough to do the manual labor necessary to clean our pig stye, I worked while my companion packed his things and rested. Sister Leticia Rechi took our place, and during her first transfer there, I think she trained a new sister (a verdinha) as well.

(Sister Rechi, if you're reading this, I apolagize for leaving nothing to eat in the apartment. I thought a half a loaf of bread, some margarine, a little milk, and some flour and sugar would be enough to last you until you could go shopping, but Sister Dansie didn't think so, and I caught a whipping for it ![apanhei muito por isso] If it's any consolation, I really admire you for surviving that first transfer in Lisboa, you're a superwoman. )

Because my companion was sick, we really didn't do much that whole transfer. There was one week, when we only taught about 2 or 3 lessons. It was miserable, for both of us. I was reading several books before I went to Lisboa, but while holed-up there, I managed to finish 4 or 5 of them (including Jesus the Christ, A Marvelous Work and a Wonder, The Articles of Faith, and others), and I was able to listen to dozens of famous conference talks and BYU devotionals I had been given on MP3 disks by one of my mission buddies. So, it wasn't a complete waste of time because I learned a lot. But mostly, I look back at my time in Lisboa with sadness. Part of that has to do with the fact that Elder Seeley and I did not part well, and I haven't had the chance to speak with him since.

So I left Sao Jose, and went straight to Floripa for the monthly zone leader training held by President Dansie. Besides being my first training, this one was special because we had a visiting general authority from the 2nd Quorum of the Seventy (who was also the President of the Brazil south area of the church), Elder Mervyn B. Arnold.


In Brazil, they say when someone is really animated and passionate, that they have 'fire in their bones' (fogo nos ossos). Well, that certainly describes Elder Arnold. They say (and by "they" I mean the young missionaries who have made the myth surrounding this man) that he has a very weak heart, and could die at any minute, and that once he had a near-death experience, and saw first hand what the missionary effort in the Spirit World was like: fast and furious. They say that when he came to, he was a changed man, and has been 'on fire' like that ever since.

Since my encounter with Elder Arnold was actually a highlight of my mission, I will defer writing about it until a later time, but I will get back to it.


My first transfer in Tubarao was really tough. I had just come from six weeks of sedentary sulking, and was thrown into a higher-geared work schedule with higher expectations than ever before in my mission. As a zone leader, you are expected to be an example of diligence, obedience, and success. Which means, you're supposed to achieve more, in less time, and with a better attitude than all of the other missionaries under your stewardship. I had never been very good at making street contacts: where you just approach someone on the street, or in the grocery store, or wherever, and initiate contact with them, share a message, get a phone number/address, and mark an appointment. I am somewhat shy, and self-conscious. My companion, however, insisted that my first week there, and every week, that we make at least 100 of them, each!


Elder Martinez was in his very last transfer, and it was his responsibility to teach me the ropes for the whole zone (a HUGE geographical area that took 4 hours to cross by bus), and help me to achieve higher success rates, before going home. The pressure was intense, and it was one of the most difficult areas I served in; however, it was the first, and only, area I ever served in with a ward,and not just a branch of the church. That made a big difference.

The city of Tubarao lies on both sides of the river Tubarao, which drains into the Atlantic about 1 hour inland from the sea-side city of Laguna. There are two wards, one on each side of the river, and our area covered the Sao Joao ward on the north side, which was more residential and rural than the south. Yet, there were still lots of businesses and, to me, it looked like a very industrial, unfriendly town. A main thoroughfare in Brazil (the BR 101 which is roughly equivalent to our I-5 that runs the length of the Pacific coast) bisected our area, and we had to run across it everyday, sometimes 2-3 times a day. At first it scared me really bad, but I got used to it. There was also a University (Unisul) in our area, and a footbridge that crossed the river in front of it. The first time we crossed it, I thought I was going to die! My companion had a good laugh. Sometimes, at night usually, we would see capybaras by the river, and that was always an adventure.

It happened that Mothers' Day fell in my first transfer in Tubarao, one of only two days in the mission where elders and sisters can call home and talk to their families. Several nights before that, I remember being up late on my knees, praying for help through the tough time I was having, and seeing a bright white light come in to the room and onto my bed. It was so bright that I noticed it even with my eyes closed. I stopped praying and saw that it was the Moon, bigger and brighter than I have ever seen it before, or since. And it comforted me, somehow. On Mothers' Day, my Mom told me that she had been impressed to pray extra hard for me a few nights earlier, and asked if everything was alright. I immediately thought of my experience with the moonlight, and told her about it. We discovered it was that night that she had prayed for me, and I had been comforted. That was a sweet and special experience, one I shall never forget.

I was trying to think of something profound to say, to sum up my trials and give a moral to all of this, but that's probably not necessary. I think you know what I'm trying to say.

A response to "Prophets or Evolution"

As my readers already know, this is not a blog about current events or people. It's a blog about ideas, memories, and aspirations. So, I'm a little hesitant to begin my next post, and you will see why. There is someone out there for whom, I have something to say.


There is a man in Kansas,who claims that Einstein, Darwin, and most every other scientist since the turn of the 19th century, is a fool. This man, of course, is NOT a scientist, himself. He has two degrees: one in mathematics, and the other in accounting; yet, he claims to be an expert in physics, medicine, and the life sciences. In fact, he has even proposed alternative hypotheses to Einstein's theory of general, and special relativity, the origins of and "cure" for cancer, and the unifying theory of life science, evolution. What's more, all of these "theories" work conveniently well with the creationist world view. It would seem that Isaac Newton has been reborn, and brought back "natural theology" to the modern world! But, as you know, looks can be deceiving, and in this case they certainly are.


What we have here is no inspired genius, no scientific revolution, no evidence, no workable, peer reviewed, tested hypothesis for anything useful. No, what we have here is a self-styled "intellectual," who understands just enough about science to be dangerous-- the kind of person you wouldn't want to be chemistry partners with. He knows just enough about science to misconstrue it, and mislead those who know even less than he does. A true quack.

That said, you may ask, "why do I care? I mean, if this guy is just another quack, then he's harmless, right? Let him quack away!" I wish it were that simple. You see, this man, R. Webster Kehr, happens to be a member of my church, and he publishes his works with the line "An LDS Perspective" in the title, as if he speaks not only for the church as a whole, but even to the church as a whole. He's one of those people I spoke about before, who want to draw battle lines between science and religion, even if those lines should put members of his own church on the outside.

I have not read these works in detail, nor do I encourage it. I don't intend to meticulously debunk his "theories," as Ken Miller does the assertions of Intelligent Design in his books. To do so, I would need the experience and resources of a real scientists, which I am not, yet. And I will not pretend that I am, as does this man. But, in my short time as a student of these sciences, I have learned enough about the method employed by scientists, and the scientific community, to know that if it can't be reproduced; if it can't be supported by evidence; if it can't be tested; if it lies in the face of other accepted and supported hypotheses, and makes not attempt to reconcile and explain these disparities, then it is not science: it is speculation. Men are free to speculate, but science is not like politics or religion: science need not give equal time and consideration to the musings and whims of anybody and everybody.

This man claims that the reason why his ideas remain in obscurity, is because the scientific community is biased and narrow-minded, and will not seriously consider his claims. To me, this is like a mediocre high school athlete whining that the NFL or the Olympics won't let him in, because there are 'qualifications' he doesn't meet. How bureaucratic and pedantic of them!

Boo hoo, poor you.


In response to the inclusion if "An LDS Perspective," in the title of his pseudo scientific/theological ramblings, I must exercise a little more self-restraint. Honestly, this infuriates me. I would like tell him many things; however, I do not wish simply to react, but to offer a heart-felt, and measured reply. After all, religion is different from science, as I said before, and the same standards of peer-review and empiricism cannot be applied to it. The realm of religion depends upon the supernatural to provide the truth, in the form of revelation and inspiration. And we are not enemies, but brothers of the same faith, and I have no desire for that to change.

Brother Kehr,

When you imply that as members of the church, we are faced with the ultimatum of choosing between the fruits of human reason, or faith in revealed truth, uttered by modern prophets, I wonder if you have considered the consequences of such a demand, or if you have the power to make it. Our Heavenly Father is not a God of confusion; His mysteries do not hide in the darkness that lies beyond human comprehension, but in the light of understanding. God wants us to understand that light, and He wants us to use all our faculties in doing so. He did not create a universe which "seems" to have had a beginning, or a world which "seems" to have been shaped by eons of natural processes, or life which "seems" to have evolved from a common ancestor. If He did, then it would "seem" that God is trying to pull the wool over our eyes. And that, my brother, is ridiculous.

Ask yourself, "Do I really wish that all the members of the church who believe in evolution [or the other sciences you have attacked] would leave?" Do you expect those of us who have found in science a meaningful, useful, and enlightening world view, to abandon it, because you say so? Or because Heber J. Grant said so 100 years ago (before the modern synthesis I might add)? Or because, occasionally, one of the apostles will make a remark in passing about their own views on the subject? Let me remind you that none of the presidents of the church, have said that the natural sciences are incompatible with the teachings of the Restored Gospel. Believing in evolution and science is not wrong, and is not a sin. We are not asked if we disbelieve Darwin, in order to get a temple recommend or take the sacrament.

Science tells us nothing about morality, and to blame science for immoral behavior is non-sequitur. People justify their actions with faulty reasoning all the time. Almost every decision people make is influenced by their subjective feelings, and not by logic and reason. Evolution has made us that way, and most of the time it works quite well; as evolution selects against making decisions that are bad for the individual and the species. However, I know that when I sin, it is not because I believe in evolution, or disbelieve in the words of the prophets. It is because I am human: weak, selfish, imperfect, mostly irrational, and driven by carnal desire and pride. But that is not all I am.

Evolution has made me this way, but it has also endowed me with the ability to think, to feel, to love, and to learn. All of these things give me an advantage as a human being. It has also given me the ability to contemplate the very existence of God, and my relationship with Him. If you throw out evolution, you had better have some way to account for my motivation, my relative fitness, and "seeming" relatedness to all other life forms on this planet, and it had better be good. More than simply "God made it that way." As we know, an argument that answers everything, answers nothing.

I ask you, please, do not alienate God's children from his family and kingdom over something so trivial as the origin of man, and the universe. Yes, trivial. Trivial because the existence and power of God is in no way related to His direct arbition to their origins. God exists whether or not He personally created the world, or breathed life into a ready-made Adam; whether or not the universe is 10 billion years old, or 7 thousand; whether or not we are apes, or angels incarnate. He has the power to save us whether or not He personally made us. The power and existence of God are not limited by the reach of science, or the extent of natural law over the universe. We who believe in God, need not fear what science can do to Him, or to our faith. Fear is the opposite of faith.

If you really care about my salvation, and that of your brothers and sisters, bring out the things that unite us, and not those that divide us. With charity, love, and the proper priesthood authority, tend to your own family, those under your charge, and if you feel you must address the church as a whole, stick to what you know: faith, repentance, baptism, confirmation, endure to the end... You know, the basics.

And if you really feel that you've got something new to offer the scientific community, then bite the bullet and submit your stuff to some real scientists who can test it, and stop crying about the system being unfair. Who knows? Maybe you'll be vindicated, but I doubt it.

Utopia: the Elusive Ideal

In a previous post I mentioned that I was reading Thomas More's Utopia, and that I would write a review once I had finished. Well, I finished reading it months ago, but it left me with so many questions and new ideas that I simply haven't decided yet what to think of it. I've done a little more research into the history and politics of Utopian experiments and mythology, and-- I hate to say it-- I'm not impressed. The tract record for Utopian experiments is dismal, the mythology is contradictory, and the feasibility... well, there is none.

The modern state of Iran is a great example: during the Revolution in 1979, the Ayatollah and his supporters promised an Islamic, Utopian society. I don't think I need to convince anyone that it didn't work. The Taliban invoked the same ideal in Afghanistan, and the result was even worse! Stalin, Mao Zedong, Castro, Chauchesku, Kim Il Sung... Yup, you guessed it: All failures. Worse than failures-- Monsters! And I didn't even mention the multitudes of religious and cult leaders who have done the same thing through the ages. So how do these men end up at the helm of a populist revolution, and pervert it into pseudo-theocratic dictatorship?

I also recently read Animal Farm, by George Orwell. Okay, Okay, I didn't read it, per se. I listened to an unabridged version of it. That's better than just watching the movie, right? Anyway, it had a real impact on me. Orwell has a way of doing that. I can see why some people refer to him as a "prophet," although he would probably object to being labeled that way, being an atheist and all. It also gave some insight into my question about why utopias fail.

It's discouraging that so many good causes, founded by intelligent and inspirational people who love the human race, have been hijacked by selfish, egotistical, power-hungry, brutal people (mostly men), and turned into a byword and a curse. And I'm convinced that this is the reason why Zion will never exist on earth until there is an immortal, perfected, all-knowing, and ever-compassionate being to oversee it. And if that never happens, I think we can abandon any hope that the ideal society will ever exist. Call me eschatological and fatalistic, but human beings have yet to prove that they can do it on their own very well, or for very long.

The scientist in me says: "We can do it! Science and the scientific method can be applied (already have been in fact) to human behavior, culture, and motivation; to government and society; to agriculture and industry; to energy and the environment; to evolution and the future of mankind! We can take our destiny into our own hands and make it brilliant! We can live peacefully and happily on this planet forever." But then reality sets in, and I remember that over the course of the earth's natural history, there have been half a dozen mass extinctions, and that we are on the brink of another, man-made one. Nothing on this earth, or in this universe, was made to last forever.

It occurs to me-- at times like this-- that most of us really are just doing the best we can, as we always have. It also occurs to me that when a theory, however convincing, takes on a life of its own, and becomes the justification for a mass-societal experiment, that we are on dangerous ground. This is why I am still a conservative, and always will be. I know that life is unfair: that the decisions of a few, powerful, wealthy people affect the lives and livelihoods of billions around the globe, and they (the rich and powerful) give little or no thought to those billions, or the planet they live on. And it infuriates me! But what is the alternative? Socialism, Communism, Anarchy? Thomas Jefferson's "Aristocracy of Everyone?" In theory, it sounds nice. In practice, it's Hell, or it's impossible.

I think about 1984: the scene where Winston is being tortured by O'Brien, and he protests that no matter how tightly the party holds the people in subjection (ie. how hard the boot stomps the human face), eventually the spirit of humanity will triumph over cruelty, and free itself. I know the book didn't end well, neither does Animal Farm, but I don't think Orwell believed that resistance was futile (no reference to "the Borg" intended). It seems to me that, at all times, a system of government should be a skillfully crafted compromise between the people and their leaders, and that it should be a dynamic interaction. I think any theory of government, however well thought-out, must be flexible enough (and humble enough) to admit fault, imperfection, and the need for constant change and adaptation. A system that is absolutely rigid, and assumed to be perfect, can only end badly for the people (like the donkey Benjamin's assertion in Animal Farm, that, "Life will go on as it has always gone on, that is, badly...").

I think reading Orwell, and More's Utopia, has given me an answer to my search for truth, and helped me formulate some sort of political philosophy: that there is no "correct" political philosophy, not yet anyway. There are correct principles: cooperation, compassion, respect for human dignity, respect for the environment, hard/honest work, justice, autonomy, etc. For any government to be effective and praiseworthy, it must honor these principles, and others. As always, the Devil is in the details.

Just as the process of evolution has yet to produce a perfect organic creature, human beings have yet to create an ideal state. But evolution has produced us: a creature intelligent enough to understand the process that created it. We are not perfect, by any means, but we have the necessary tools to survive, thrive, and even be happy on this indifferent world, in this indifferent universe. I think we would do well to be less ideological, and more pragmatic as concerning politics: to have our principles and cater to them, but to remember that we don't have all the answers, and we're in this together. I think I'll give up dreaming about utopia, and start thinking more about my family, and my neighbor.

50 Things I love about Shauni

These are in no particular order, and they don't come near to an exhaustive list of reasons why I love Shauni, but after reading just 50 of them, I'm sure you'll come to love her, too. Or at least think she's awesome, like I do.

1. She's beautiful and elegant


2. She's smart and witty


3. She graduated from college


4. She's a good mom, and loves being one


5. She loves beautiful, inspiring things


6. She's interesting


7. She's fun to talk to


8. She's creative in the kitchen


9. She's warm and loving


10. She likes adventure


11. She also enjoys simple pleasures and simple joys


12. She has good fashion sense


13. She's very practical


14. Her kisses are sweet


15. She likes it when I hug her tightly


16. She listens and empathizes


17. She's very polite


18. She's very loyal


19. She appreciates good counsel and advice


20. She's a good swimmer, and loves the water


21. She is very musical: can play and appreciate it


22. She likes, and is very good with children


23. She's very healthy, and encourages me to be


24. She gets satisfaction and happiness watching our little boy, Jaren, develop


25. She's a hard worker, and very diligent


26. She serves others often


27. She likes cleanliness and order


28. She is a very good, wholesome, and clean person


29. She's into saving money


30. She can balance being frugal, while raising our standard of living at the same time


31. She has strong faith and trust in God


32. She is totally devoted to our marriage and family (no matter what!)


33. She dreams big, but is realistic, too


34. She is patient with me, and Jaren


35. She is helpful


36. She smiles and laughs easily


37. She has a beautiful smile!


38. She compliments frequently and says "Thank you"


39. She expresses gratitude for all good things in our life, and even lots of our challenges


40. She is strong, but sensitive, and very feminine


41. She tells me she loves me often


42. She has high expectations of me, but doesn't nag; she's very encouraging


43. She doesn't yell or get irrational when upset, but works it out with me, and forgives


44. She's quick to say "I'm sorry" when she makes a mistake


45. She's the best wife a man could ask for!


46. She actively tries to look past my faults, and my family's idiosyncrasies, and to love and accept


47. She sees good things in everybody


48. She has an open, inquisitive mind: looks at both sides of everything


49. She stands for the right, always


50. She makes me want to be a better man
    

I love my wife!

"One Lord, One Faith, One Baptism"

So far during my short trial as a blogger, I have tried to avoid topics that I felt were overly controversial, naive, or cliche. I must admit that I do not feel entirely capable of defending my next statement as well as I would like to, especially since this notion has come to be so ridiculed by our progressive, pluralistic culture. I would like to explore the belief in one true religion, and ultimate truth.

I'm sure we've all heard the saying "there are many paths to heaven," or something similar. Newsweek magazine recently featured an article on the subject, titled "We're all Hindus now" (a reference to the core Hindu belief in a multiplicity of paths to salvation), which cited a study the Pew Forum, reporting that a majority of Protestant Americans now believe that people of other faiths can achieve salvation (this group is traditionally the least inclined to believe thus). This pluralistic, and even pantheistic, approach to religion can be attributed to many factors, which I will not attempt to exhaustively categorize here (collective sigh); however, undoubtedly, a few of these factors include society's emphasis on religious/cultural tolerance and relativism, as our society becomes more secular, and I believe it can also be attributed to general spiritual laziness.

Lately I have experienced a "cooling" of my own religious fervor, as most of my time and mental energy has been funneled into work, school, and preparation for my professional and adult life. I have to work weekend nights in order to go to school full-time, and so this leaves me almost comatose on Sunday mornings, when we go to church. Couple this with the tidal wave of secular thought and argument I encounter daily in academia, and it results in a 'perfect storm' of doubt, nearly capsizing my small vessel of faith. As a returned-missionary, I am able to recognize the pattern, even in myself, of a testimony wavering under fire. I am ashamed that I, too, am capable (or incapable, I should say) of such a thing: being tempted, having doubts, second-guessing, and sinking into skepticism.

I like to think that this is just a transitional time in my life-- a time that will redefine me, for the better-- and that these feelings of doubt, and explorations of other possibilities, are healthy (albeit uncomfortable) and necessary phenomena, ultimately leading me to a stronger, more defensible position of faith. I like to think so, but I'm not so sure.

Two of my favorite religious/philosophical authors, C.S. Lewis & Stephen E. Robinson, have written convergently about the level of dedication and faithfulness required for acceptance into the Kingdom of God, based on scripture: that our devotion must be a conscious and complete willingness to accept and keep the covenant He has proposed for our salvation --knowing that we could be wrong, but choosing this course 'come what may.' It is as a marriage, in which we promise to be faithful, no matter what, trusting that God will never abuse us. They argue that this level of faithfulness alone, and nothing less, that will satisfy our end of the covenant.

Extrapolating this into everyday application can be difficult, but a pertinent example for me is this: to make up my mind now that I will always follow the teachings of the gospel, keep the commandments and the covenants I have made, and when I make mistakes or struggle with doubt, that I will do my best to repent and to reconcile myself to the church, and to God. This would require more than simple activity in church meetings and practices, as this can be done by passively 'running through the motions.' This requires an active awareness of to what it is I am promising, and an unwavering commitment henceforth. And what's more, this should not be a burden, but a liberation (or, in other words, I should be happy about it).

Einstein once said: "He who joyfully marches to music rank and file, has already earned my contempt. He has been given a large brain by mistake, since for him the spinal cord would surely suffice. This disgrace to civilization should be done away with at once." And I have heard other important literary figures suggest that some of the greatest tragedies in the world's history were committed by simple people who had committed themselves to some cause or other, in like fashion. By pure irony, terrible wars have been waged, and countless other atrocities committed, which could have been avoided if people had stopped to think for themselves, and question the authority and inspiration of their leaders.

And so, we begin to get a sense of just what God is asking of us: in the face of knowing that we run this risk (of committing ourselves to a cause we cannot be sure of), me must do it, trusting that this one is the real thing-- the one sure hope for salvation. We must use the brain we have been given, all of it, and still decide to follow him, even blindly, if need be. That is a lot to ask, and for me, it requires a level of trust that I am barely capable of, if at all.

I think, as an attempt to reconcile these conflicting points of view, our society is beginning to popularize this new, open-minded approach toward religion, with the hope that this will curb fundamentalism and extremism, foster diversity, and encourage dialogue between old rivals and xenophobes. Unfortunately, there are unforeseen, undesirable consequences to this strategy, or perhaps they are foreseen, in which case we should worry. One of these consequences is the cheapening of the role of religion in our lives and culture: making its various beliefs and practices nothing more than items to select and mismatch, as if at a buffet, literally making morality and faith a matter of taste, persuasion, and opinion.

I am not a conspiracy theorist. I laugh at, and get furious with the likes of Glenn Beck, Michael Savage, Ann Coulter, Bill O'Reily, Rush Limbaugh, etc., when they prey upon the fears of ignorant people, by insisting that there is some secret, secular New World Order who wants to abolish religion and control our lives; however, I am aware that there are many prominent people (writers, journalists, actors, musicians, politicians, corporate executives, etc.) who do want the public interface of society to be atheistic, and who lobby for such an end. But I don't believe they have some unified 'master plan' to take over the world --they enjoy their freedom just as much as we do.

On the issue of the one, real truth, I believe it must exist. Physicists search for their "theory of everything," which encompasses the labyrinth of quantum mechanics, chemistry, and life itself, and explains these in the language of mathematics. This is a noble search: it will bring us closer to understanding the universe, and ourselves, but it will not complete our understanding, it will not bring the self-actualizing singularity promised by post-humanists, or help us to transcend our mortality and our humble place in the universe. For these are metaphysical quests-- these are the reasons why we are spiritual beings. I think those who put their "faith" in science alone, and advocate that all should follow suit, are doing themselves an injustice, and us as well.

To say it plainly, I believe that there is one true God, and one way to Eternal Life. There may be many paths, but there is only one path that is most direct, and there is only one entrance at the final destination. There is only one ultimate truth, and it is true for everyone. I believe this, and I believe that while some people may be fortunate enough to find it in life, those who do not will be given the opportunity after death, or else God would be a partial being: unjust and unmerciful. I feel that we should search for the truth, and not be content until we are confident we have found it. And if one is not sure ones religion or church is true, why continue to follow it? Why give up the search? We had better believe we are near the truth, or I believe we will have to answer for our negligence in searching it out.

Mission Memories (part 4)

This post is about my mission. To see other simillar post, click on the mission tab under "labels."

I arrived in Pato Branco in August, which down there was near the end of winter. Elder Melo and I braved the cold winds and rain with holes in our shoes, and broken umbrellas. It was shortly after arriving in Pato that we were invited by a less-active couple, Irmao Tobias and his very small wife (both of whom had a very interesting story), to come have lunch with them where they lived, in a small town, several miles west of Pato Branco, called Mariopolis. While there, they introduced us to a woman named Rosa, and her daughter. They had been talking to lots of people in the town about the church, including preachers of other faiths, some of whom even came to General Conference with us in October! I guess they were trying to get a group going there so they didn't have to travel so far to go to church.

This woman, Rosa, had already known other sets of missionaries when she and her family had lived in Pato Branco several years past, but they had moved away and lost contact with them, and the church. She was very happy to see us, and invited us to come to her house and teach her whole family. We visited their "house," which was nothing more than a small shanty with some furniture, a stove, and 4 children. I had never seen such poverty. The children worked with their parents as seasonal field-hands, hand-picking beans or grapes on a plantation, for which they earned a small pittance-- barely enough to survive on.

It was shortly after this October General Conference that Elder Melo was transferred to another area, to become a senior companion, and I was asked to be a trainer to a new missionary. His name was Elder I. Sousa, from Rio de Janeiro: a carioca! So, I was going to have a filho, but, once again, he was older than me by a few years. We had a difficult time at first: he had been a paralegal in Rio, living alone, and working in the business district of the city, before he came to the mission. He was very particular about his things, and sometimes, just for fun, I would re-arrange them for him! He would flip whenever I did that. We soon got to be very good friends.

He was very outgoing and friendly with everyone we met and taught. Sometimes this was something of a problem, as our investigators began to see us as just friends, rather than teachers. Several months went by without much success. We were teaching lots of people, including Rosa's family, but were not able to commit any of them to baptism. We began searching out the less active members, teaching them, and asking them to refer us to their friends. One family we found, that of Irmao Jose, lived in a distant neighborhood from the city center where the church was. They began coming back, and they introduced us to a wonderful young couple with two small children, whom we began to teach all together! By doing this, we were able to help re-activate a family, and bring another one with them that already had friends and a support system! That was one of the best experiences of my mission.

It was the week before I left Pato Branco that we finally had baptisms, 5 of them: Irma Rosa, and her 4 children! The Branch was able to help them find a small, but clean and very sturdy house, in Pato Branco, so they could all come to church without much ado. They were very happy to finally be able to become members of the church. Their baptisms were a witness to me of the power of prayer and fasting, and the fulfillment of a promise that I received by the Spirit. By the end of my time in that city I had come to love the members of that Branch so deeply, that I wept to leave it. I had gained the confidence and friendship of Presidente Rufato and his whole family, especially his parents, with whom we had spent Christmas (my only Christmas away from home), and used their phone to talk to our families. I also got to talk to Shauni on the phone that day for a few minutes, because she went over to my parents' house. That was a great surprise!

There are so many other things I can think of, it would take 4 more posts just about Pato Branco to tell them all, but I'll spare you. When, after 7 1/2 months, I was finally transferred, I knew I would never forget the time I spent in the city of White Duck.

Ditat Deus

For those not from Arizona, or not familiar with Latin, that's Arizona's state motto, it means, "God Enriches." That sums up, better than anything, the way I feel right now. I wrote a little earlier that I was feeling a little down, frustrated, and worried about the future. Well, in the past week some exciting, unforeseen things have happened that have helped change that.

I recently had the opportunity to request a transfer for work to a nicer facility, and one nearer my house, and it looks like it's going to happen! I've been there before, and I like the night crew that I'll be working with. It's on the campus of the Mayo Clinic in Scottsdale, and it lives up to their high standards and reputation. I'm truly excited, even though it's pretty busy at night, and I'll definitely be "earning my keep" by working there. The only down side is, it's full-time or not at all. So, looks like I'll be working full-time and going to school full-time for a while to come. However, I will not be tutoring, so I'll still have two days during the week to do homework, spend time with my family, and relax.

So that's work, now on to school. This will be a busy semester: I'll be taking 3 sciences (Organic Chemistry, Organic Evolution, and Animal Physiology), and I'll be a research assistant to my Physics and Genetics professors, working on a project studying yeast! No really, it's a cool project. I went in to speak to my advisor a few days ago, and she reassured me immensely, and gave me hope and confidence that I'm on the right path towards getting into medical school. If all goes well, I should be able to graduate from ASU in May of 2011, and, hopefully, enter med school that August.

I was thinking that I would either have to find part-time work, or Shauni would have to, this semester in order to make enough to cover our expenses. But just yesterday, my financial aid refund came in the mail, and it was three times as much as I was expecting! It was like pennies from Heaven! Don't get me wrong, I know where it came from, but I had checked my status just a day or two before the dispersal, and there had been no change; then, all-of-a-sudden, and in our hour of need, we got this huge, unexpected help. Once again, our needs have been provided for, and Shauni will still be able to stay home with our boy, like she wants to, and I will be able to focus on 1 job, and on school. I feel very grateful for all these things, excited about this coming semester, and renewed vigor to pursue my dreams.

A Poem

I used to be a pretty avid poet, but I haven't written anything for over a year. The other night I was at work, watching a man with what we call "terminal restlessness," who kept trying to crawl out of bed. I had to hover over him like that because he had already succeeded once, a few days earlier, and nearly broke his neck! His family had expressed how they wished he would just move on, and some of the staff as well. I was thinking about this as I watched him, and these words just sort of came to me. Hope you like it, if not, let me know. Either way, feedback will be appreciated.

Wanderlust

Please, go quietly into your goodnight.
If you've spent it well, or ill, it's spent.
Your youth, your prime, your time is over,
We, the living, though we loved you,
Do not wish to love much longer.

As our patience passes away, you delay.
A moment of concerted effort only
Is all we can spare from our busy day;
For, the present is our master, lonely.

And though we would heal, forgive past offenses,
Make amends, tie-up loose ends,
And part with you on good terms, with sweet tears,
We must content ourselves with the bitter:
There are bills to pay, and appearances to make.

Perhaps there's a reason why old, oriental men
Leave home to wander, beg, pray, and die
Without a ceremony-- To spend their last day
Under the gaze of strangers, or, nobody.

Maybe this is why you are anxious, confused, restless:
Because this is no longer your world?
You belong to the woodlands, to the wilderness,
To the deserted temples and wastelands.
They call to you, to come add your bones to theirs'.

I would let you go, but for my guilt and fear,
And there are laws against that sort of thing here.

So I plead, go quickly, do not tarry;
For, life no longer makes you happy.
When you're gone, we'll think better of you.
Legacy is the key, and it lives after life.

The Prince and his Rose. (Part 1)

I apologize to those who may have already heard this story from Shauni, but maybe in my retelling you may have the chance to enjoy it again, from another perspective.

Shauni and I go way back. We have been friends since I was a sophomore in High School, she a junior, and we were acquaintances for a year before we became friends. Shauni doesn't remember this, but I remember the first time I saw her: it was in the Lakeside LDS Seminary building, off the campus of Blue Ridge High, one afternoon when I came in during lunch to talk to Brother Moon, the much-loved, and greatly-missed Seminary teacher, who later became my bishop. I remember seeing Shauni, I think she was holding her viola, standing over by the piano in the classroom. I was there with a friend, and I didn't know her name, so we didn't really meet then, but when I looked at her, she gave me a huge, beautiful smile.

Over the next few years, Shauni and I went on at least 5 group dates to the school dances together, but never as a couple. I had been over to her house, a popular hang-out spot, and got to know her sisters, and little brother, Dallin. Then, in the fall of 2002, we really got to know each other. We sat next to one another in Seminary, and worked together during the many group discussions and activities that Brother Moon had us do. I was a junior, Shauni was a Senior. Shauni told me later that it was around this time she started feeling like she might be in love with me, but I was thick, and either ignored her signs, or didn't notice them.

One day we got to the building early, and it was cold outside. I rode the bus to school, walked over to the building, and was standing outside shivering, when Shauni pulled up, and offered to let me sit with her in the warm car. How could I refuse? We started talking about her plans to go to college after she graduated, and I mentioned how I would be moving at the end of the school year. Then we started, well, flirting, and joking around about a possible future together, when Shauni surprised us both by saying, "then you'll move back to Arizona, and we'll get married!" I laughed and blushed, she was embarrassed, and we didn't say much after that. But it left me with a sweet feeling, it was the closest thing to a real "I love you" that anyone had ever said to me.

The next semester passed, and being the insensitive teenage boy that I was, I didn't really go out of my way to talk to, or hang out with her, and every time I passed her in the hallway, she would look at me with a longing that made me feel both guilty, and very dumb. Her best friend, a funny, fiery red-head named Cammette, accosted me in the school parking lot one day. She demanded to know why I had neglected Shauni for months, and not responded to her obvious attempts to talk to me, and what my real feelings for Shauni were. I lamely replied that I was trying to avoid getting into any relationship, because I was moving and planning on a mission, but as for my feelings about Shauni, I would feel very lucky if I married a girl like her someday. That was a revelation even to myself. She seemed satisfied with this, for the moment, and allowed me to go. Shauni told me later that she was very embarrassed by Cammette's boldness, but it proved to be a catalyst for the things that followed, and gave her hope and courage.

The last dance of the year came, a girl-ask-guy dance, and Shauni had decided that this was the last chance to make something happen between us. There was another girl I had been dating here and there at the time, and she was also planning on asking me, but by some fortunate stroke, she asked Shauni, who was an upper-class man, for permission first. Shauni politely insisted on asking me, since she was a senior. I have often thought how strange it is that seemingly small events, that could easily have been changed, make such a difference in the long run.

There's a really funny story about how Shauni actually asked me to the dance, but she remembers the details much better than I, who couldn't do it justice. She tried several things, which all failed, and finally snuck into my house at night while we were gone, and buried a laminated slip of paper in a tub of margarine which she placed on the piano outside my room, which read "look in your room!" (which I was going to do ANYWAY!). Once inside, I saw that my room had been strewn with popcorn, and there was a poster on my dresser with the punch line, "I just thought I'd butter you up, before I popped the question! Will you go to the dance with me? from AHSUNI." I responded with a Hebrew encoded play-on-words, that said, "to AHSUNI, whoever you are, A funny look, a chocolate bar." I had a stranger deliver the message to her with a chocolate bar, while making a funny face. She was baffled, and I had to help her decode it, but the encrypted message, " a funny look, a chocolate bar," was a Hebrew transliteration for "aph, ani lu khashat let bahr." which is very bad Hebrew, but says, loosely, "yes, I would love to go, clearly." She loved it, which made me happy because it took me several hours of tinkering with some Hebrew words to make something intelligible.

For the pre-dance date, we went with a big group of friends on a picnic to a beautiful little town called Greer, where we played games, went ice-blocking down a little grassy hill, and went cray fishing. It was the best date ever. We had a progressive dinner, going from house to house, until it was time to go to the dance. We didn't stay long at the dance, we mostly just went for the pictures, but during the few slow songs they played, Shauni and I would move slowly, hold each other tightly and stare into each others' eyes intently. It was that night I knew that I cared for her very deeply. That night Shauni also invited me to her graduation, which would be in a week or so, and to a clean after-party at a mutual friend's house. It's interesting that another couple who went with us on this date, also got married: Luke Gabe and Jessica Williams.

So, graduation night came. Shauni had lent me her large copy of our Co-ed picture to leave a note on the back, and I brought it with me to the party, which was at Karli Flake's house, in the country club. Once again, we had a great time. Karli's folks had a HUGE trampoline that we all took turns on, bouncing each other, and it was such a clear night that, after we were all worn out, someone brought out a bunch of blankets, and we all laid on the tramp to look at the stars. Shauni and I laid close together, and, you know trampolines, we eventually were side-by-side. I took her by the hand--a little bold for me-- and started to tell her how much I would miss her. We laid like that, talking to each other and looking at the bright stars through the trees, well into the night. I had just told her how much I would miss her when I moved away, and then Shauni whispered something to me that startled me out of my dream state, like a meteor blazing through the sky, she said, "I love you." It took me a minute to recover, and I finally choked out the only thing I could think to say in return, " I love you, too."

"I've got big dreams, but no self-esteem, ya know."

I'm not big on punk, but ska, and in particular Reel Big Fish, is alright. I just thought that line an apt title for this post. The post about my sweetheart is on its way, it's just taking longer than I thought. For the 10th time, or so, I've been trying to plan the next few years of school, and see what I have to do in order to get a real job in my lifetime, and before my kids grow up. I also have some goals and dreams that I want to plan for, but they all seem so far away from being realized!

Shauni and I have been talking about making a change in our routine a lot, lately. Before we moved to Phoenix, my plan was to take 1-2 lab sciences per semester, and another class or two, to fill up the requisite 12 credit hours needed to be considered full-time for financial aid. Along with that, I would work weekend nights, full-time, so that I would not need to go into debt for school, and so I could get a hefty chunk of medical/clinical experience to prepare me for medical school. Well, it's been one semester so far, and I think some thing's gotta give. I say this for several reasons: 1, by only taking 1-2 lab sciences per semester, I will not get my bachelors degree until I have been in school for over 5 years (I got a late start by changing my major after a year and a half at a community college); 2, working full-time leaves me no extra time, or energy, to take more classes than that; 3, Because I work every Saturday and Sunday night, I am always tired at church, during the semester I never get a break, and I have really felt out-of-touch with my spiritual side lately.

So, I'm making some new goals, which will require a few changes, I want to:

1. Be done with my B.S. by Spring 2011, with little or no debt (besides my car, which will be paid off the next year)
2. Get above a 3.5 GPA, and above a 3.0 for sciences
3. Take the MCAT by next Spring, and score within the 85th percentile
4. Enter Med School by Fall 2011, finish by Spring 2015 (by the time Jaren begins 1st grade)
5. Find a career with 9-5 hours, Monday-Friday, minimum management, earn over $100k/year, so I can spend lots of time with my family, and enjoy a retirement
6. Find a place to work and live in Lakeside, Flagstaff, Payson, or Durango (somewhere cool and mountainous)
7. Be able to take a super-vacation for my 10th anniversary with Shauni (to the East Coast, Europe, or Brazil)

In order to do this, something I need to do now is take more classes each semester, which means working less. Shauni and I have been thinking that, perhaps, I could reduce my work to part-time, only two nights a week, and be a tutor to make a little extra (and get some good experience) while Shauni could be a substitute teacher once or twice a week. Since I don't have classes either Wednesday or Friday, I could watch Jaren while she went to work. Of course, we could always just accept the subsidized loans I've been offered for the next few years, but we'd rather not, unless we have to.

We plan on having a few more children, not sure exactly how many but we think about 4, and we're thinking about spacing them out about 3 years apart from each other. Which means, by the time I'm starting medical school in the fall of 2011, hopefully, that we'll be having our next baby, and the one after that will come when I still have about a year left. We also want to move to wherever we're going before Jaren starts school. So we might find somewhere in this cool, mountainous, unknown place during my last year-- when I'll be doing my clinical rotations away from home anyway-- for Shauni and the kids to live while I finish school. If everything goes timely and well, as I hope, Shauni and I will have been married for nearly 8 years, and we'll have 3 kids by the time I'm finally done with school and can start my real job!

This all sounds so daunting and far away, but I know that no-one else will do this for me. If I don't plan and do what is necessary for me to have the future I want for myself and my family, we wont have it. Sometimes I wish I had a guide-- a mentor, to help me, and who I could talk to and ask advice from. In this age of the Internet and fierce competition for skilled occupations, I feel like I'm always the last one to know about some helpful Internet resource, or unspoken, common knowledge about the application process and all the preparation needed to give one a competitive edge. I feel like the fact that I'm a young, white, married, Christian, American man puts me at a disadvantage when every medical school I investigate says on their homepage that they are looking for applicants who will help diversify their class. To me, that says I am not wanted: that the world has enough white, male doctors.

Dear World: Please prove me wrong!

I'm not black, but I still have a dream. I'm not a woman, but I believe that merit should be awarded not based on your sex, but on your achievement and hard work. I don't belong to a minority, but it was still difficult for me to be successful in school, to fit into society, and to go to college. I don't feel like a victim, or feel the need to blame someone else for my incapacities, but many things outside of my control have hindered me throughout my life. I have not had it easy. I don't think many people do have an easy life, unless you are born into that elite top 1% of Americans who control 50% of our country's wealth. Needless to say, I am not one of those people. Maybe I'm worried and making much ado about nothing. It's just that I've known too many close friends and associates who have been blocked from their dreams for this reason, to think that couldn't happen to me.

I wish I had more confidence in myself, and in the system. I want to believe that the system is just, because I know I can be a good doctor, but, ultimately, whether or not I get into medical school is not my decision. And that lack of control over my own destiny is disconcerting.

Some things I want to do to improve my odds are: lose some weight (that will help with my self-esteem, at the least), get good grades (as I mentioned), try to remain optimistic, learn all the little things I need to know in order to play the game well, and try to enjoy, and keep, my job as a CNA. I am a very lucky man: I have a wonderful life and family, I've been blessed with great opportunities and with great friends, and I'm grateful for all these things.

On Being a Father

For some reason, this seems like the most difficult thing to write about so far. I guess it's because there is some kind of security in writing about remote and abstract things that have little reflection on me, personally. Writing about my family is completely different. It's difficult not to idealize what I write-- to be candid and honest-- for fear it might sound common or sentimental. But, why should I be worried about that?

Being married... Being a Dad... sometimes I still think it hasn't hit me yet. Already Shauni and I have been married two years, my little boy knows my name, can almost walk, and has his very own personality. To me, he was just born! I can see myself in his face. There's no sufficient explanation for that feeling... It's ineffable, like something spiritual. Even though I know he is not me-- he will grow up to be very different from me-- I know that half the fabric of his mind and body came from me and my ancestors! It confounds me.

I think of all my known ancestors, just the ones I have some record of (approx 1,000), then add the few known thousands of my wife, and our son is descended from all of them combined! Bits and pieces of all those people, haply meeting in his little form, to make a cute, chubby, toothy-grinned little boy.

Jaren has already decided on distinct roles for both of us: Shauni (Mama), is the caretaker and protector and comforter, the one for whom most of the whining and crying and yelling is intended, she is the pretty one, with the makeup box and the food supply (and from whom he will not accept any imitation, ie. bottle or sipycup), and the one who, as he knows, has near-endless patience for his selfish, and sometimes bratty, behavior. Shauni is a really great mom, and even though Jaren might not know that yet, because right now all he cares about is himself, I know he will someday, and he'll be very grateful to her. I (Dada), am the one who does much less of the important day-to-day stuff (diapers, feeding, bathing, waking up with, etc. [which I need to repent of]), and who leaves a lot, and hides for hours in the bedroom half of the time (I work nights), but who redeems himself, at least for him, by playing fun games and rough-housing.

Some of our favorite things to do together are: playing tickle-monster, chase around the house on hands and knees while growling "I'm gonna getcha!" (he knows that phrase), pretending that I'm a lion by donning the lion throw-rug my parents bought for him, and he loves to crawl all over me in bed when Shauni carries him in to wake me up on days that I work. Jaren also likes it when I throw him up in the air (only if he can feel my hands, and if I don't let go of him completely), and when I hold him like a big sub-sandwich and pretend to eat him.

I like spending quiet time with him, too, when he'll let me. Sometimes, when he's really tired, he'll let me hold him and rock him to sleep in the rocking chair next to his crib. Other times, he'll let me hold him on my lap and feed him a sippycup of milk. But these moments are rare, and so I treasure them. Most of the time, that boy is "Go!Go!Go!" all day, until he crashes.

He stood on his own feet with no help or support for about 20 seconds the other day! Before that, he was getting brave and trying new and risky things, like climbing up on things by himself, and cruising along the walls, but ever since then he has been scared to be left standing alone, and will cry and cry if he gets stuck or stranded while cruising, or if Shauni or I try to stand him in the middle of the floor and let go. We both know he could easily walk already, but he must not be ready yet, mentally. It is a new and wonderful experience to watch him develop, and I enjoy it so much.

I'm so grateful he is a healthy and happy boy. I'm so grateful his well-educated and accomplished Mama thinks he is important enough to stay at home with, nurture, and take care of, and that, so far, I'm able to earn enough so we are able to do so, even though she could earn a lot more than me at present.
My next post will be dedicated to her, and it will probably be long and sappy, just FYI.

O Patria Amada, Brasil!

This post is about my mission, to see the other similar posts, click on the mission tab under "labels."

Where was I? Oh yes, Pato Branco! Well, you see, the Brazil Florianopolis Mission is comprised of the whole southern state of Santa Catarina (which is much like the shape and size of North Carolina, and borders Argentina on the west side), and also includes two small pieces of its neighboring state to the north, Parana (not to be confused with the carnivorous fish). The capital city, also the city of the mission home, is situated on an island just off the coast, so close, in fact, that a suspension bridge, Ponte Hercilio Luz, spans the distance. The bridge, which is beautifully lit up at night, has become the symbol of the city.

All of the larger cities, and the stakes of the church, are on, or near, the coast, and within a few hours drive from Floripa: Joinville, Itajai, Sao Jose, Tubarao, and Lages, which is a good distance inland, up-and-over the sierra. There are also three districts in the mission, which are spread out over a much larger area, encompassing many small towns and cities, and are farther from Floripa: Ipomeia (where the church first began in Brazil), Uniao da Vitoria, and Chapeco (ranked in order from closest to farthest). With highway conditions as they are in Brazil, the city of Chapeco is about a 8-9 hour bus ride from Floripa, with the wind at your back.

The reason I'm saying all this, is to put things into perspective. Pato Branco is about 4 hours north of Chapeco (12 hours from the mission home), and is the 2nd farthest area from Floripa in the mission. After serving in one exceptional area, Guaratuba, only one of two small corners in the mission that were not in Santa Catarina, I was transferred to Biguacu, a small city north of Sao Jose and within sight of the island, where I stayed for a mere 6 weeks. After which, I was transferred to the other exceptional area, the other corner outside of Santa Catarina. All in all, I spent one whole year outside of the state of my mission home. My friends used to joke with me by saying, "you should have served in Missao Curitiba!" Which is the mission located in the capitol of Parana.

I was supposed to make the long trip with three other elders headed in the same direction. So, I packed my two suitcases, and got a ride from a member with a car to the main rodoviaria in floripa, arriving just before time to board. I met the others, quickly got my passage, and got on the bus, glad I hadn't missed it. I was surprised when I saw that the other three had not yet got on, and I got nervous as the time for departure came nearer, and nearer, and finally the driver closed the doors, and drove off! I was in a state of shock. Not knowing what to do, I looked out my window and spotted my bewildered companions, watching the bus leave with their hands raised to the tops of their heads. It was then I realized I would be making that 12 hour trip solo-- no companion. I felt terrified--like I was naked, or something.

I got off at the first stop, in the city of Blumenau, and called the mission office. One of my would-be companions answered, and apparently, they had been looking all over the station for me, not knowing I had already got on the bus, and so, had missed it. I asked what I should do, to which President Dansie replied, "just go alone, they will follow on another bus." Although I was honored at the sign of trust my president had just placed in me, I was still wary of making such a long trip with no moral support, and I had good reason: I sat behind a young man looking at pornographic magazines a good portion of the way, and they played not one, but two R-rated movies on the screens during the bus ride! For most of the trip, I rode with a thick blanket over my head.

My journal entry from Aug 11, 2005, reads: "It's 3 in the morning, I'm in Pato Branco, PR. I'll explain later." As I mentioned earlier, I barely had time to pack before leaving after finding out I was being transferred, not to mention time to journal. My companion, Elder Melo from Mato Grosso do Sul, came with my group from the CTM to the mission, so we had met before. I was assigned to be his senior companion, even though he was several years older than me, had been in the area longer, and spoke better than I, being Brasileiro and all. It was because he had not yet mastered the material we taught, so my goal was to help him do that. The city was unlike any I had yet seen in the mission: it was, squished, so to speak, in a small valley with steep hills climbing up three sides of it. Because we were on foot, with little allowance for bus fares, the sight of the hills made my feet and legs ache, but not since Guaratuba had I met people who were so nice and receptive.

The people of Santa Catarina are, for the most part, of more recent European descent: German, Italian, etc. They have fairer complexions, and much colder and curt manners than the people of Parana, who some Catarinenses refer to as "macacos," or monkeys. Their speech is also much more metropolitan and correct than those of the small towns in Parana where I served, but I would gladly have spent both years working among the Paranaenses, if I could have chosen. They had a much more agrarian, friendly, and hospitable attitude than most of the people I met in Santa Catarina, not to mention they were much happier.

Pato Branco began as an inn run by Italian immigrants near a pond with ducks, hence its name. The inn was at the bottom of a small valley surrounded by large farms and thick forest, or mato. As it grew, the city began climbing up the sides of the hills, and dozens of high-rise apartment buildings sprang up around the city center, which, as any self-respecting Brazilian city should, maintains an ornate Catholic cathedral, and central plaza, or praca. Around the city, stretching for countless miles, are still huge plantations of corn, beans, and soy, and occasionally a little thicket of forest. It's beautiful.
The branch in Pato Branco was small, and had been for the last 15 years. Virtually all of the men who had the priesthood in the branch had been, at one time, the branch president. There were about 50 active and semi-active members, and about 12-15 families. Their main goals were to get enough membership to someday become a ward, when the district became a stake, and also to build a real chapel to meet in. Those had been their goals for years, and they seemed no nearer then, than 10 years past. When I was there, they met in a small, rented, wooden house which they modified into a church.

Our baptismal font, was a caixa da agua, a blue fiberglass water tank, which we would set up on the back patio and fill with the hose when we had a baptism. It was there that I first baptized someone on my mission: an 8 year-old girl whose parents were members, but who lived too far outside the city to come to church regularly. She reminded me of myself in some ways, and I hope that her situation has changed, or will change, to enable her to be active in the church.

The current branch president, Joelsio de Rufato, was a young, ambitious, stern, and inspiring man. He told me his favourite book in church literature was Spencer W. Kimball's Miracle of Forgiveness, which I have never read, but I hear compels even the most righteous person to their knees in sore repentance. He led the congregation with an iron fist, covered in a velvet glove. One minute, his rebukes would make you want to crawl into a hole, the next, you would feel he were your loving parent, who prayed for you incessantly.

I had heard horror stories about how much he distrusted the missionaries, and how difficult he made their work, but for some reason, he opened up to me, and I could feel that he sensed a partner in me, and one who shared his vision and who he could trust. He was very helpful and supportive during my 7 1/2 months in Pato Branco. And because of our trust and cooperation with him and the other leaders, my last days in Pato Braco were very successfull, and the area continued to prosper long after I was replaced: I received letters and pictures of many who I had taught and found who were baptized and reactivated, and that was one of the greatest joys of my mission.

Orderville: My Communist Heritage

(Communism: a theory or system of social organization based on the holding of all property in common, actual ownership being ascribed to the community as a whole or to the state. )

Shauni and I just got back from a vacation to Utah, where we had a reunion and lots of fun. On the way up, we stopped in a little town in southern Utah, called Orderville, she and I both had some ancestors who lived there. I had never heard of Orderville, or known I had ancestors from there, until Shauni got me interested in family history. One of my ancestors that I didn't mention in the post about my roots , was Isaac Von Wagoner Carling. His father, John Witt Carling, had lived in Nauvoo and known the prophet Joseph Smith, and his successor, Brigham Young, personally. John was asked by Brigham Young, during the construction of the Salt Lake temple, to make a sketch and model for the oxen who would hold the temple's baptismal font on their shoulders. Isaac crossed the plains with his family as a young man, where he met his future wife, my grandmother, Asenath Elizabeth Browning, daughter of the famous gunsmith, travelling in a neighboring wagon with her family, who were friends of the Carlings.

From childhood, Isaac had been considered exceptional: bright (even considered a genius), talented, and possessing a deep sense of morality. He was a poet, musician, a craftsman and carpenter (like is father), and an inventor. After marrying his sweetheart, Sena, he called her, they lived for many years in Fillmore, Millard County Utah. He was a man of ideals, optimism, and a great desire to live righteously.

During the 1870's, Brigham Young, and other leaders of the Church, began a social campaign in earnest, to revive the "United Order of Enoch," also known as the Law of Consecration, or the Order of Stewardship, preached by Joseph Smith during the Ohio, Missouri, and Nauvoo periods of the church. This was a response to the dramatic economic and social changes brought to Utah during that time due to the construction of the transcontinental railroad, which passed through Salt Lake, and threatened to dilute the purity of the theocracy. For these, and other, reasons, Brigham Young began to travel throughout Utah, preaching the need to return to the United Order, and finally establish Zion.

Since no one in the church was coerced into living the Order, and no set of specific instructions was given on how to establish and run such a co-op, many different types of communities resulted, most of which, however, did not make it past electing officers. Orderville was begun as a break-away group from that at Mount Carmel, due to ideological differences on how to run the organization. It was around this time that my grandfather, Isaac, was invited to join the Saints in Orderville, and bring his family. There were 16 of them total, and they proved invaluable to the success of this memorable experiment.

Isaac quickly showed his adeptness and enthusiasm for living the order, and became a prominent leader in the community. His daughter, Catherine, says this about their move to Orderville:

Father turned all his property over to the United Order, except the
household and personal things. We experienced a great change in our lives,
making new friends and changing our way of life among new people who became dear
friends and a good people to live among.

The communal activities practiced in Orderville went far beyond what Brigham Young had counseled or what Joseph Smith had taught concerning the Law of Consecration. It was the only instance in which all members of the Order ate at a common meal in a dining hall, wore uniform clothing which was produced locally, lived in identical apartment style houses, and in which the elected board oversaw every viable industry: "The elected board supervised all activity, including entertainment, schooling, cooking, clothing manufacture, and farming. Private property did not exist, though personal possessions were assigned as a Stewardship to each individual."

Another remarkable aspect of Orderville, was its success, and duration:

Under this regimen the order prospered, both materially and
spiritually. Assets of the eighty families tripled from $21,551 to $69,562 in
the first four years of operation and reached nearly $80,000 by 1883. The
leaders made adjustments as time went on. In 1877 they replaced the earlier
loose dependence upon willingness to contribute with an accounting system that
placed uniform values on labor and commodities (the wages varying by age and
sex, but not type of work).

The order was practiced successfully in Orderville for nearly a decade, and, indeed, would have continued longer if not for the passage of the Edmund's Anti-Polygamy Act of Congress, by which many of the leaders and members of the community were either imprisoned, or forced into hiding. When the board finally was faced with the unavoidable need to disband, Isaac was one of only three members who voted not to discontinue the order. He and his wife continued to live there until their deaths, and are buried in the Orderville cemetery.

When I discovered this intriguing history of my grandfather's family, it was like long forgotten memory had suddenly surfaced again, bringing clarity to my thoughts and feelings. I have always been fascinated by recorded attempts to live a communal life: the Biosphere 2 project, Arcosanti, even Jamestown could qualify. It is exciting to know that I have a fairly recent ancestor who shared, and from whom I might have inherited, my enthusiasm for true communism, and the concept of Utopia. I also know, better than most, the blunders, dangers, and tragedies of the recent past associated with small-scale, and state-sanctioned/enforced communism-- including the crimes against humanity performed by Stalin and Chairman Mao. These are undoubtedly, some of the most heinous and unforgivable acts of all time, along with the Holocaust.

I hope my readers will not imagine that I support or endorse these regimes, or their actions. Nothing could be farther from the truth. These evil men are twice as guilty in my sight: once for their offenses, and twice for their manipulation, distortion, and perversion of something so potentially good-- human cooperation. It is a shame to me, that one cannot speak of communism without an apology for the monstrous mistakes of these men. But, even in their infamy, these men cannot corrupt this truth-- that man, as an individual and as a race, will reach his full potential only when we are all free and equal, and able to live industriously, and peacefully together. It can be done, it already has been.