As I think about my membership in the LDS church (nearly 37 years now), I realize that I have been on quite a path. Although there are times when I have felt completely secure in my relationship with God and in my trust in my church, I also realize that there are times when I have felt far more vulnerable than I would have liked.
I reflect on this subject this week because of the NYT article making the rounds. I should point out that there are some excellent responses to this article, including this one at BCC and this one at BYU Studies.
What occurred to me, however, is that just like Brother Mattsson, featured in the NTY article, each of us is on a faith journey. (The idea isn’t completely my own. I was spurred to this thought by this article written by a friend some time ago and shared with me this week.)
In some ways it is appropriate that I ponder my faith journey during the same week we celebrate a journey of another sort by Mormon pioneers who made their way to the Intermountain West where they could (for a time at least) be free of the persecution they had known in Kirtland, Missouri and Nauvoo. The pioneers, of course, traveled a path of physical, emotional and (I imagine, at least) spiritual hardship, as they physically tested their commitment to the gospel and the prophet Brigham. Their sacrifice was tangible and in many cases terrible, leaving possessions, family members either behind or along the way. Families were separated by circumstance, by service in the Mormon Battalion and in some cases by death.
I am a convert to the church; although I have American pioneers in my heritage, I do not have Mormon pioneers. My pioneer ancestors went to the Pacific Northwest primarily for economic reasons, and while they worked hard to go, they did not suffer the persecution of the Mormon pioneers. My wife’s ancestors, on the other hand, included Mormon pioneers, some of whom suffered greatly in their journey. My wife reflected early in our marriage that she did not think she could have endured the trials of her Mormon pioneer ancestors.
Harold B. Lee is often quoted as saying that in our day we will likely face different tests of our faith from those of the pioneers. While they faced physical challenges, we will face challenges of sophistication. In addition to challenges of sophistication (and some may include the issues highlighted in the NYT article in that mix), I think we have other trials of our faith that may well be common to other generations. That has certainly been my experience.
My challenges of sophistication – that is a scholarly set of questions that I had not encountered in seminary and Sunday School – came early in my career at BYU, when I had a roommate who invited me to address a series of questions he’d learned from his father who was in the process of leaving the church. That experience was critical in my development of a stronger testimony of the gospel. During that year I learned how I could approach questions of our history (and I enjoyed the resources of BYU’s library and one particularly helpful faculty member to do it; I don’t know how I could have done that far from BYU in the pre-internet age). And I had a number of other spiritual experiences unrelated to those questions that reinforced the testimony I brought with me to BYU. That combination helped me through a period that could otherwise have significantly challenged my faith. I learned not only answers to many questions, but also HOW to answer questions in the future (and how to wait when answers were not immediately available).
But those are not the only challenges to my faith. Part of my faith journey includes other trials of faith that come up in everyone’s life: sought-after blessings that may have been slow to appear, children who chose different paths and so on. Life is simply not easy. When what we perceive to be righteous desires are slow to be realized, it can challenge us – at least it has challenged me. Knowing that no success can compensate for failure in the home gives me pause when I know that my home is not perfect. Learning to pray to understand God’s will rather than to present Him a list of my wishes is a lesson that took me decades to learn. In these trials, I suppose perhaps I have kinship with those Mormon pioneers who may not have consciously signed up for the journey they ultimately took.
I think about testimony meetings, where we’re invited to share briefly what we know or believe and how we’ve come to know it. Of course those testimonies are often point-in-time snapshots along our life’s journey of faith, a journey that is often complex and even uncertain. As for me, I am now experiencing mine one day at a time, grateful for where I am today.
Brief essays on my experience as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
Showing posts with label Pioneers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pioneers. Show all posts
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Monday, July 25, 2011
Early Church
We moved to early church this week.
It happened because some boundaries were moved in wards in our stake, and now our building has two wards instead of three. Before the change, meeting blocks started at 9, 11 and 1. We were in the 11:00 time slot, which is perfect if you have teenagers (and pretty awful if you have little kids). Since we are out of the toddler stage, we loved 11 am church.
But now we’re at 9 am. (Yawn.)
My 14-year old son summed it up when a week ago last Saturday he said, “Well, tomorrow is our last day of normal church.”
And not only did we need to be at church for sacrament meeting at 9, but we had a choir practice at 8:30 since we were singing for pioneer day. (Double yawn.)
Of course, we woke up to chirps from our electric alarm clocks, climbed out of our soft beds and into warm showers. We enjoyed a breakfast of Pillsbury Pop-n-Fresh cinnamon rolls, sliced fresh fruit and boiled eggs. We dressed in our nice Sunday clothes and drove the 10 minutes to church in our air conditioned car.
A century and a half ago our pioneer forefathers (my wife has Mormon pioneers in her family; mine are just good ol’ American pioneers who embarked on the Oregon Trail) may have woken to the sound of chirping birds at sunrise, crawled out of their bedrolls on hard ground, built fires to cook whatever it is they could scrape together (or hunt, or pull out of their meager supplies, if they had any that day). They likely put on the same dusty clothes they’d worn the day before (assuming they’d taken them off to sleep the night before). And, if they weren't observing the Sabbath, they'd begin their daily 20-mile hike.
Maybe early church isn’t so bad, after all.
It happened because some boundaries were moved in wards in our stake, and now our building has two wards instead of three. Before the change, meeting blocks started at 9, 11 and 1. We were in the 11:00 time slot, which is perfect if you have teenagers (and pretty awful if you have little kids). Since we are out of the toddler stage, we loved 11 am church.
But now we’re at 9 am. (Yawn.)
My 14-year old son summed it up when a week ago last Saturday he said, “Well, tomorrow is our last day of normal church.”
And not only did we need to be at church for sacrament meeting at 9, but we had a choir practice at 8:30 since we were singing for pioneer day. (Double yawn.)
Of course, we woke up to chirps from our electric alarm clocks, climbed out of our soft beds and into warm showers. We enjoyed a breakfast of Pillsbury Pop-n-Fresh cinnamon rolls, sliced fresh fruit and boiled eggs. We dressed in our nice Sunday clothes and drove the 10 minutes to church in our air conditioned car.
A century and a half ago our pioneer forefathers (my wife has Mormon pioneers in her family; mine are just good ol’ American pioneers who embarked on the Oregon Trail) may have woken to the sound of chirping birds at sunrise, crawled out of their bedrolls on hard ground, built fires to cook whatever it is they could scrape together (or hunt, or pull out of their meager supplies, if they had any that day). They likely put on the same dusty clothes they’d worn the day before (assuming they’d taken them off to sleep the night before). And, if they weren't observing the Sabbath, they'd begin their daily 20-mile hike.
Maybe early church isn’t so bad, after all.
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