Why I Blog:

I blog for three reasons. One is to share photos with family far away. One is to keep track of links to ideas that I find compelling. And the last is to have a place where I can write what I'm mulling or learning.

The last is the most prone to difficulties. I have a brain that heads into essay writing mode every once in a while. It tends to move on its own accord from mulling to composing and so I write for two reasons. The first is to sort and clarify those thoughts for myself since getting the thoughts down in that way seems to free my mind for whatever learning or thinking comes next. The second is because, if I don't write it, my brain keeps revisiting it and revising it. It's easier to get it down into print where I can read it and edit it, rather than having to keep all those composed sentences and paragraphs in their various draft forms organized in my head.

I am an imperfect writer. I do not always articulate well what I am thinking. Sometimes I leave important considerations or details out. Sometimes my choice of words is inadequate or not precise enough. More times than I would wish, in my lifetime, I have written inexactly enough that I have been misunderstood and have inadvertently given rise to assumptions I wouldn't even dream of including.

Since this blog has received more visits in the recent past than it did earlier, I thought I should explain the above and just say that when you visit you are welcome. I hope that you will find it mildly interesting and ask that you not only be understanding about the flaws and the unsettling bits but that you also feel free to point them out so that I can revisit and rearticulate them more accurately. I will find that helpful.

Gr.Gr.Gr. Grandfather James Dunster

James Dunster (1831-1907) with his three living sons, from right to left, Jacob Jones Dunster (1858-1918), James Matthew Dunster (1871-1960) and Samuel Lewis Dunster (1878-1892). Estimated date of photograph: about 1888

His oldest child, Mary Elizabeth, is the child in this family who is our ancestor.

This Used to be Our Back Lawn in our Small Backyard

Zucchini in the foreground, tomatoes to the right. Greens and herbs and flowers coming along. Melons just starting to take over the rear. I'm impressed with the beds and paths Lewis made.

Family Literacy

Bowdlerizing Cinderella

As a child I was mesmerized by folk and fairy tales, legends and myths. I would get lost in Andrew Lang’s fairy tale books and I read and re-read retellings of ancient Greek myths, Aesop’s fables, Robin Hood and King Arthur’s court. They affirmed my belief and hope that right choices were worth fighting for, that paying attention to wise advice was a smart thing to do, that the underdogs were right to stay firm in their integrity even when they were outnumbered, and that goodness, even if it was not rewarded, was worth standing for. As an adult I read Bruno Bettleheim’s, The Uses of Enchantment, which won a National Book Award in 1977 and in which he discussed the developmental and symbolic importance of traditional fairy tales for the emotional health of children. He made a particular point of including traditional, strong worded tales that included swift and violent justice such as those collected by the Grimm brothers. He believed that reading or hearing such tales helped children develop their own sense of justice, right, courage and heroism in the face of great odds and sometimes overwhelming fear or helplessness. I recognized the truth of what he was trying to say. Those tales had been a source of moral compass to me as a child at times when I felt like I was unable to change circumstances around me controlled by people who had more power than I.

This week I read an article by Jane Yolen about the mass media dumbing down of Cinderella. She contrasted the early versions of this universal tale with the sugar sweet versions of the last 100 years or so. In early versions Cinderella continues, in spite of her stepmother’s scorn, to perform proper rites and rituals at her mother’s grave and to enlist assistance from birds who roost there (Grimm), packs up her belongings and seeks and gets work at the castle (French), makes intelligent suggestions when her fairy godmother is momentarily confused and double-talks her sisters after the ball to find out what they thought without revealing that she was there (Perrault). Her step-mother and step-sisters invariably get their come-uppance, often violently, either self-inflicted or pronounced by those in power.

Contrast these determined, hardy, helpful, and clever Cinderellas with the ones more commonly published since 1900, including the ubiquitous Disney version who pays no attention to the warnings of the mice, cowers as her stepsisters tear her dress to shreds and whose ability to meet up with the prince a second time requires neither determination, intelligence, or willingness to work and collaborate, but instead depends on the cleverness of those same mice. For her, her successful thwarting of her opposition comes from others, requiring no more than dreamy wishing and general niceness and submission on her part. And her step-family never experiences any consequences other than embarrassment, disappointment or dismay.

I don’t know why 20th century mass media fairy tale telling took this sort of turn. I suspect that popular culture changed in its notion of the artistic feminine ideal, the tellers changed their tales to please and to reflect that change, and as a result young children who only heard the modern versions missed out on the moral lessons and courage building that came to previous generations of children from the older tales.

And that leads me to think about the kind of religious stories we tell our children. The old scriptural versions of godly men and women were strong-minded actors; Eve, making a choice, owning up to it, and gaining insight into the good that came from that choice. Ruth, choosing to brave poverty in a strange land in order to help her widowed mother-in-law instead of returning to the comfort of her parents’ home. Deborah, judging Israel with wisdom, speaking truth to Barak and accompanying him to battle to overthrow Caananite oppression. Zipporah who, when her husband was too faint-hearted to circumcise his sons as a token of dedication, took a knife and did the job herself. Enoch who spoke out in spite of his slow speech. Daniel who chose to pray knowing that the den of lions would likely be the consequences. Mary Magdalene who got up at the crack of dawn on a morning of great sorrow to do the work of embalming the dead. These are people who both HUMBLY AND FIRMLY acted out their conscience, put their hearts into what they thought was right, lived by those principles in spite of facing huge challenges and found it worth the effort. Scriptural stories of men and women of God have the potential to help children develop emotional strength and moral compass in a manner similar to the one that folk tales do, but their power to do so diminishes if we fail to tell them as they are written.

I think that just as 20th century tale-tellers fell into the trap of changing their stories to reflect modern artistic ideals, whatever they might have been at the time, so do 20th and 21st century religious storytellers face a similar temptation as they retell stories of strong women or men in the scriptures. Whether those ideals include modern notions of helplessness and power-abdicating submission on one extreme, or modern notions of autonomous, arrogant self-sufficiency on the other, or whatever variation between the two we happen to subscribe to, we all run the risk of bowdlerizing the original stories and thereby failing to give our young listeners the opportunity to use the originals to find their own strengths and vision.

What positive experiences with old versions of stories from folktales, myths, legends and ancient scripture did you have as a child?

Learning from My Grandmothers

I am at a stage in life where I have the means and time to research and write family history so I increasingly find myself immersed in stories and accounts written by the women in my family tree and their family members and peers. Every one of those women encountered tragedies and struggles in their lives. There is not a single exception. Sorrow is a part of each of their stories. So I have been thinking about sadness and its relationship to the gospel of Christ.

One great grandmother, Moriah, who was born in a small southern Utah town, buried ten of her thirteen children before they reached the age of 18. Another step-great, great grandmother, Sarah, received the gospel with her family as a young woman in a mining town in England, fell in love with and married a fine, young miner in that town who was a member of her congregation and was raising two children when her husband, as her father had been before him, was killed in a mining explosion. She used the money the mine gave her for compensation for the death of her husband to emigrate to Utah shortly after which her youngest child died. She met, loved and married my great, great grandfather and raised his three boys, her remaining daughter, and a passel of subsequent children, some of whom lived and some of whom did not.

My grandmother, Mariah’s daughter, told me stories of Mariah’s constant kindness and business-like determination to organize her Relief Society work to reach out to families in her community who were in need of food and help. She called her an angel.

Sarah was known for her careful, kind years of work as a member of her town’s “burial committee”, responsible for the washing, laying out of the body, sewing and clothing and flowers needed by a family in grief. Her granddaughter, Vida, remembers her for her ability to see the beauty in nature, her gratitude and fortitude as well as her quiet, dignified manner.

I did not know Mariah or Sarah, but I did know Ida, my calm, devout, sweet-smelling great grandmother who grew up with an absent father, lost a baby girl at birth, lost an energetic, strapping, son to a sudden illness when he was 18, and nursed her husband through years of multiple sclerosis. She used to recite long stretches of poetry to me, bake bread for us when my mom was sick, and beat me thoroughly at Scrabble.

All three of these women were thoroughly devoted to God and to the church. All three of them experienced times of terrific sorrow, struggle and loss. And all three found that the former helped them through the latter.

Nowadays I spend my Sundays teaching a Primary class. Every once in a while the lesson manual will tell a story, either from the scriptures or from a person’s life, about a choice wisely made, and include the question, “How do you think so-and-so felt when he did that?” And the children, having heard such questions before, will answer with a bit of a sing-song tone, “ha—ppy”. And then I have to get them to think deeper than that.

Wise choices don’t make happiness. Neither does living the gospel of Christ mean that we will always be happy. But I wonder if sometimes we don’t think they are supposed to. Perhaps that is because we read “Man is that he might have joy” and think that joy means happiness and that having means always. Perhaps it is because we read Joseph Smith’s comment that, “Happiness is the object and design of our existence”, and think that means that if we are living the gospel we are happy, and that unhappiness is therefore a sign of not living it, since, as we also know, “wickedness never was happiness”. And we neglect to realize that Joseph Smith goes on to say that “virtue, uprightness, faithfulness, holiness” lead to happiness, not that they guarantee it every moment, here and now.

Perhaps some of this is behind the push for perkiness we find in some Mormon women’s circles; the sense of failure if they are not acting or feeling chipper or always focusing on the silver lining. I recall a young friend’s irrational dismay and sense that something was wrong with her when, after breaking up with her boyfriend, she “just couldn’t seem to be happy”. We sometimes think that living the gospel means we are always happy. But that is not the gospel.

I find wisdom in the words of Henry Ward Beecher. “Affliction comes to us, not to make us sad but sober, not to make us sorry, but wise.”

I think we modern women, protected somewhat by modern medicine and technology from the extent of sorrow our ancestors experienced , have lost our vision of the power of soberness and wisdom that comes as part of wading through affliction with God. Sorrow, sadness and heartache are not a manifestation of an absence of faith, nor a failure on our part, nor an abandonment of the grace of God. It is rather, a universal experience through which we all pass.

I remember a conversation I had with a thoughtful, old stake patriarch when I was a teenager. He had lost a son in a random shooting a few years before. He taught me that pain, struggle and heartache are what teach us to truly appreciate joy and truth. His comment was that the purpose of the gospel wasn’t to make you happy, but to transform your life from what it would otherwise be if you didn’t have it.

And it does transform it from what it otherwise might be. Recently two of my dear friends, one who understands and feels the love of God and one who does not, tragically lost a child to SIDS. I have spent hours listening to them mourn, talk and struggle through their terrific losses. And I see the empowering nature of a connection with God as I walk these two parallel paths with them. Both are terrifically bereft and sad. But the one who feels a connection with God is finding strength in a resource that the other is not able to find right now. I also know that both will feel that loss all of their lives. I know my great grandmother did.

Sorrow is an intrinsic part of life. If we spend our lives trying to avoid it or feeling like a failure when we experience it, we are missing important truths. An understanding of God doesn’t take away sorrow, but it does have the ability to sustain us and empower us as we fully experience it.

Pinning in the 21st Century

When my mother was a college student, more than half a century ago, there was “pinning”. A boy would give a girl his fraternity pin to wear to signify that they were in a serious relationship. If you were in high school or were not a member of a fraternity, you could give her your class ring to wear on a chain around her neck. The practice has dwindled considerably since then, though there are a few mid-western campuses where frats keep this tradition, some more elaborately than others.

When I was a child, there was “going steady”. You actually asked the girl if she would go steady with you and you became an official couple. Sometimes it meant she wore your school jacket.

When I was a teenager we were in the midst of the Haight-Ashbury phenomenon. Nothing was official. In high school you might have a boyfriend or girlfriend you were "serious with”, but it was never officially announced. It just happened.

When I was in college having someone you were serious about was something you never discussed. We were serious about ideas and our education and life. A girl might have a guy she loved and spent time with and she might even be living with him, but it was something on the side, not the center. People would think you were weird or needy if you were focused on defining that relationship.

After I married L., I didn’t pay much attention to what the latest form of establishing a serious romantic relationship was like, so I can’t fill in the ensuing decades. But I am intrigued by the latest one I encountered this week: a facebook notification that you’ve been sent a relationship request. A young friend recently posted his delight at having received one and changing his facebook status to "in a relationship with _________". Good heavens. Officialdom with the click of a button, miles away from the object of your delight and affection.

Things do change.

Faith and Doubt

"Faith and doubt both are needed – not as antagonists, but by working side by side to take us around the unknown curve."
~Lillian Smith (American writer, 1897-1966)

I just finished reading Robert Millet's April 27th BYU-H devotional address in which he discusses what he's learned from his own and other's experiences with doubt, despair, faith, fortitude and decision. I recommend it, particularly his references to John, chapter 6, and the words of Mother Teresa, David Steinmetz, Orson Pratt and Neal Andersen.

You can read it here.

Lessons from a Sojourn Spent Camping on a Sunny Island

1. It is happier to choose to do than to feel that one must do.

2. Watch the beauty.

3. Less stuff to take care of = more time to observe the beauty.

4. Fewer obligations (self-imposed or other-imposed) = more time to listen and to help.

5. Sunscreen and bugspray are helpful.

6. Find time for sunshine and exercise every possible day.

7. Make sure your perspective on life includes the natural world.

Modern Idolatry

"We don't build golden calves anymore, but we do carve out a pan of brownies and say, 'Oh pan of brownies, you calm my nerves.' Or, 'Oh pan of brownies, you ease my pain. Oh brownies, you help me forget my troubles.'" ~ Gwen Shamblin, Rising Above the Magnetic Pull of the Refrigerator

The Purpose of the Task is to Strengthen the Relationship

I have been reading and re-reading Boyd Packer’s conference address. Some have found it troubling, but I think that is simply because they were expecting certain issues to be addressed and they were not and they feel keenly that disappointment.

But if you read it as it is intended, a call to a higher vision of service and care to the men of the church, there are some good principles worth noting

1. The story of Gideon; a call for each of us to avoid complacency and to be alert and ready to listen and serve in our respective callings and responsibilities. It is far too easy to just go with the program and neither be prepared for nor hear God's vision of the work you are called to do.

2. A distinction between authority, which comes with ordination, and power, which comes through abiding in Christ and acting as he would. There are way too many with authority but without power.

3. A clarification of what all the organizations in the church are supposed to be doing TOGETHER, strengthening and nurturing and helping families and individuals live together in love, NOT running programs or just getting things done. We have so very, very far to go in helping ward leaders catch this vision and getting them to work well together.

4. A clear message that the ordinances are not the purpose of priesthood work. Eternal life with all its celestial relationships in the presence of God is the purpose. Getting the ordinances done is secondary to enabling loving relationships and familial service.

To Cheer and to Bless

Simeon and Anna by Rembrandt van Rijn

A couple of weeks ago L. got a call from a friend, T. asking if he would be available that morning to go to the hospital with him to give a child a blessing. Dear friends of their family, members of another faith, had a child with a terminal illness who was there and they had been touched and open to T. and his wife’s offer of a priesthood blessing. L. said sure and about half an hour later T. and his wife, J. came by to pick him up for that. He came home an hour or so later, moved by the experience and grateful to have been asked to assist.

Later that week I was listening to another conversation about women and the priesthood. There were the usual ideas as to why just men hold it now on the part of some, the usual confusion combined with some angst and frustration on the part of others, and the usual questions without definite answers. I mostly listened. I feel like we don’t know why men have the priesthood and women don’t right now. I understand why people try to make educated guesses or theories as to why it is the way it is. It’s human nature to seek for reasons. And as usual with human nature, it’s flawed. I am also certain that the genderized status of priesthood holding that exists now is not an eternal state. And I understand my sisters’ confusion and irritation, but feel none personally, so I mostly just listen.

Subsequently I attended a meeting in which a general authority said he thought that women didn’t hold the priesthood because they don’t need it. That is one of the more commonly expressed theories, and though I was pretty sure it is not the real reason (no Spirit testifying), I could understand why he would think that way. Such things do not bother me. I lived as a teenager in the 1960s and 70s and heard all kinds of theories over various pulpits about why people of African descent did not hold priesthood in our church and later heard Bruce McConkie (one of the more adamant theorizers) thoroughly retract his erroneous theorizing and recognize it as such in 1978. I figure that history repeats itself and will continue to do so.

I began thinking about stories I had read in an article that covered the history of women giving blessing in earlier church history. I wondered what it would be like if women in our church held the priesthood now. It occurred to me that if the sisters in my Relief Society were given priesthood and the responsibility to bless, things might be a bit different. In such a situation, if a sister in my ward called upon me for a blessing one morning, who would I call to come give that with me? Probably not my husband. His work commitments make it difficult for him to leave in the middle of the day. Certainly not any of the other men in our ward. That would feel awkward and slightly inappropriate in current culture. I’d call on another sister. I think most women would.

What if women were giving blessings? What percentage of the women in my ward would start calling on sisters for blessings, making them the first ones turned to? Probably a significant percentage, if not an outright large majority. Women are often more comfortable with women. Men on the other hand, are usually more comfortable with men. We would likely see fewer interactions between the sexes when it came to blessings.

I shared my musings with L. He thought about the blessing he had been able to participate in at the hospital a few weeks before. If there had been two women with priesthood there, he says, he is absolutely sure that the two men would have bowed out and politely suggested to the women that they perform the blessing. No question. I wonder if that would not be happening all over on a large scale; thoughtful men, selflessly or with a sense of relief, passing along the opportunity to bless.

But then (and this is what struck me) he said that he had been thinking about watching T. and his wife, J. at the hospital. J. had been the one to touch the father, embrace the mother and articulate lovingly the words of comfort and friendship and peace to them. He and T., he said, stood solemnly and carefully and gently performed the ordinance, but neither of them had the skills J. used to comfort and bless. He said it was enlightening to watch T. and J. use their gifts in tandem to bless that family and how it united the two of them. The power of both together was far more than the sum of the two independently.

I think we don’t often see those gifts in tandem in the same room at the same time. Sisters and brothers tend to do their godly work separately. Because we are humans in a telestial world, we tend, even the most enlightened of us, to place more value on the work that the men are doing, even though we give lip service to both, which is part (by no means all, I admit) of the reason that this division of labor feels so unfair to some. In the good scenarios of church work we see men and women in the church counsel together and keep each other appraised of their work. In the best scenarios they work totally in synch, as one. Way too often most of the work of one group is done independent of the other, with occasional calendaring involved.

I do not offer these observations as “the reason why” women do not currently hold the priesthood. I don’t know why and will not pretend to. Nor do I think this is "the reason". But these experiences have reminded me of God’s commandments that we work together as one, not just with those who have the same gifts we do, but also with those whose gifts are different. (1st Corinthians 12) And I have a bit of a better view of why that working together in unity is important to Him.

What I learned this year

http://forsakingthekingdom.blogspot.com

General and Personal Revelation

I thought this was a thoughtful articulation of the role of both in our lives.

Things of My Soul: General vs. Personal Revelation: An Insightful Distinction

Being personally responsible for my own responses

Let’s say that you invite me to go on a long run with you and I do so, even though I don’t run regularly, have sky high blood pressure, regularly eat fatty food, am 100 pounds overweight and am a closet smoker. After awhile I’m exhausted but my pride keeps me going and you encourage me and at about mile three I keel over with a heart attack. As I talk to my husband the next day from my hospital bed, I blame it all on you for inviting me to run with you.

Did you cause my heart attack? Ridiculous. It was my years of smoking, lack of exercise, pride, diet and obesity as well as my choice to engage in the running with you that caused the attack. I was a heart attack waiting to happen. You just gave me an opportunity to have it.

In a similar way, the regular, ordinary people with whom I interact each day may affect the way I feel at any given moment, but their contribution to that is minor. The bulk of the way I feel when I am feeling angry or hurt or frustrated or annoyed or inadequate in a relationship is due to my lifetime of events and feelings and/or my current physical/emotional state, not the person with whom I am interacting. As a matter of fact, if I’m bad enough off, the person may do absolutely nothing and I’ll still respond badly. (Really embarrassing.)

Similarly feeling love and peace, and expressing those things, are also hugely dependent not upon the regular, ordinary people with whom I am interacting (be they acting “loveable” or not), but rather upon my choices (some past, all present) and my ability to tap into and channel God’s love.

Jacob’s words come to mind: “Therefore, cheer up your hearts, and remember that ye are free to act for yourselves—to choose the way of everlasting death or the way of eternal life.

“Wherefore, my beloved brethren, reconcile yourselves to the will of God, and not to the will of the devil and the flesh; and remember, after ye are reconciled unto God, that it is only in and through the grace of God that ye are saved.”

It is true that it is God’s grace that makes up for our imperfections and sins and lack of ability throughout our lives. And it is also, I am convinced, what makes it possible for us to fully love as he does, which is essential to salvation. Reconciliation with Him, that sense of understanding and connection with Him, enables that grace of loving, I think.

Not that I've got that down, by any means. But it seems to be worth trying to embrace.

Some things are still true.

Maria Edgeworth 1767-1849

"You surprise me doctor", said lady Delacour; "for I assure you that you have the character of being very liberal in your opinions."

"I hope I am liberal in my opinions," replied the doctor, "and that I hope to give your ladyship proof of it."

"You would not then persecute a man or woman with ridicule for believing more than you do?" said lady Delacour.

"Those who persecute, to overturn religion, can scarcely pretend to more philosophy, or more liberality, than those who persecute to support it," said Dr. X--

From "Belinda", published in 1801

Submit yourselves therefore unto God. (James 4:7)

The word “submit” as it is translated in the KJV New Testament has an interesting meaning, different from the one we give that word in modern usage. Verses there tell us to “submit” to God and to each other (See also Romans 10:3 and Ephesians 5:21, etc.). The word is most commonly a translation of one form or another of the Greek word “hupotassomai”, which is “to have a voluntary attitude of being responsive to the needs of others”. In other words, it is coming to a state of being where you choose to listen and respond to the thoughts and understanding of another as much as you do your own. It’s an action born of unselfish respect and love for other. Jesus’ loving “submission” to the will of the Father throughout his life was the ultimate example of this.
It may be an easier thing to do when life is going well, but one of the biggest challenges we face when we are hurt and hurting is that of being so overwhelmed by what we are feeling that we are unable to stop our minds from going over and over and over it again and again. That’s normal. And also, that constant self-conversation makes hearing and paying kind heed to anyone else’s thoughts, including God’s, very difficult. And I’m sure he understands that and takes that into consideration.
Personally, in difficult times, it is only after I have been able to get far enough along in a sorrow that I can get my mind to start to shut up a little about the injustices or pain I feel, that I am able to begin to emerge and really hear and engage in hupotassomai to my fellow human beings or to God without filtering everything they say or need through my own personal pain. It takes some time to get there. It is a process of emerging and seeing self and others more clearly and lovingly apart from my pain. (Whereas the modern meaning would imply that I was to acquiesce to the will of others without argument while still fully consumed by my sorrow or pain. Very different.)
Anyway, understanding the difference between the modern and Greek meanings of the word makes a difference for me.

Jared's barges

An interesting way to envision them:

And the disciples rebuked them...

But when Jesus saw it, he was much displeased, and said unto them, Suffer the little children to come unto me and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God.

Usually when we talk about that scripture we talk about how we must become childlike in order to enter the kingdom of God. But I think there’s another piece here. The disciples were feeling annoyed at the interruption of unpredictable and intrinsically distracting and wiggly children. Little children are not the most sober, quiet, cooperative or reasonable people to have around. (I understand that. We have about 40 of them, under the age of 4, in our sacrament meeting each Sunday and it’s hard to focus or hear sometimes, no, often.) But Jesus is saying that they, like every other distracting or difficult person who seeks God, are part of the kingdom of God. To be worthy of membership in the kingdom of God we must learn to live peaceably and charitably, and at peace with the people in the group that we are more likely to find annoying. He is telling his disciples that he is requiring that they (and we) see and love and be patient with people in our congregations who are difficult for us to spend time with due to their youth, their senility, their illness, their disabilities, their troubles or their oddities. That’s not always easy. Fortunately, as you know, Moroni pointed out that charity is a gift we can pray to receive. We can actually ask to be given the gift to respond wisely with charity towards and actually love those we find are difficult to be patient with. The gift may come slowly as we go through a learning process and may take time but it does come. It’s quite remarkable.

I certainly took our children out to listen elsewhere when they were small and squawky and remember years of not hearing much due to their wiggles and whispered interactions in the chapel. But it was worth the time spent, and it behooves me to to peacefully allow other young families the blessings we received because of those years of attendance.

So that’s what’s been on my mind today.

Thankful for the blessing of a very good father.

What a wonder he has been in my life. Thank you, Dad.