How Do You Define a Cult?

My daughter came home from school the other day and asked, "Mom, why do people call our church a 'cult?'"

Awesome question. I'd been waiting for this one.

image: flickr.com

First, we tried to define what a cult was very basically. We decided that people are persuaded by charismatic leaders to follow them blindly. People change their entire lives to follow and be part of the group.

I will admit that, yes, my life is changed because of my religion. I don't do things many in this world do. I live a different life than most, with clear boundaries to my conduct.  but I will also assert that I am no blind follower. I know what I believe, and I know the alternative. I love the safety I feel because of what I follow.

We delved further into the question, and I asked her what some areas are that we differ from many of her friends. Here are a couple we came up with in our few minutes together....

• We don't have sex before marriage.
• We don't live with others before marriage.
• We don't do a lot of activities on Sundays--we dedicate the day to the Lord.
• We go to church on Sunday.

We analyzed these things and considered where these "codes of conduct" come from. It was clear pretty quickly that they stem from the ten commandments. Interesting that many in the world find us so "unusual" and "cult"-ish for following the very basis of Christian belief.

image: fisheaters.com

Yes, there are other things that we do or don't do that others freely engage in and think us strange for doing or not, but the very core of the LDS religion is based solidly on following what Moses brought down from Mount Sinai and presented to the children of Israel.

So, was Moses a cult leader? Hmm....if you look at that from our modern lens, he and his followers sure have the qualifications. In my opinion, though, Moses was one of the greatest prophets that ever lived, and I think many in our world still believe this to be true. So, there's one more thing I believe in....prophets, and I believe that by following, we can be safely guided through tough times. They haven't let me down so far.

If you look closely, I believe you can begin to see many, many similarities between Moses' day and beliefs and what we believe.

So, it makes one wonder, why is our society still presenting this idea to my daughter's generation?

Converse at Church

image credit: http://style-bard-shoes.blogspot.com

While I was getting ready for church yesterday morning, I received a text. It said something like this, "Do you think it would be bad if I wore my Converse to church today?"

Texting has kind of become our in-house intercom system, to tell you the truth.

Wow! So many ways to answer this one.... I mean everybody's doing it. I've even seen wedding photos with the bride wearing Converse under her gorgeous gown. I have an opinion on that, but I'll keep it to myself....for now.

So hmm....how to answer...."Heck no!" "Oh yes, and I'll wear mine too," "Whatever you want, dear. The choice is yours," "If you have to ask, I think you already know the answer...." The list could go on and on.

As I  contemplated something as simple as what shoes to wear to church, my wheels started turning, and some much deeper lessons entered my mind.....

First, I knew that by answering this question for this child, I was taking away his/her right to choose and the opportunity to learn from the experience. I'm learning, however, that sometimes my children think I'm setting them up--as if there IS a right response, but I'm waiting for them to figure it out. This is not the case, and I'm trying to teach them that really, I want them to learn from whatever choices they make.

I mean, really, it's a pair of shoes. Who cares? Would I wear them to church? No, but that's me. If it were something life threatening, then yah, I'd have a really strong opinion. For this one, this kid has to choose.

Second, I got to thinking about why I wouldn't wear the shoes to church. I mean, like I said, they're just shoes. So, here's what I came up with....

First of all, for a 40-something woman and Primary president to wear Converse to church, that'd be all the talk. Do I care that they'd talk about me? No, I'm sure they do already. It's not that I don't give people enough to talk about. In some ways I'm already a walking conversation piece, so that's not really a reason not to wear them. The real reason I learned a few years back when I served as Ward Music Chairman. I hadn't known this before, but there are some rather strict guidelines about music and instruments that can be played in sacrament meeting. I was intrigued by these and inquired a bit as to why. What I learned was that the main purpose of EVERYTHING that happens in sacrament meeting is to invite the Spirit. The purpose of that meeting is to help make that relationship between individuals and that member of the godhead stronger.

Does everything matter in sacrament meeting? I mean, if EVERYTHING that happens in sacrament meeting is to bring the Spirit, then does what I wear and do in that meeting have that effect too? If I were to wear the shoes, would I cause others to be so distracted by my footwear that they couldn't pay attention to other things, or even worse than that, would I be so distracted by the fact that maybe I'd made the wrong choice for my feet that day that I wouldn't be able to pay attention and learn something.

So, my response to this child:
"Umm...what do you think? Is it your Sunday best? Will your attire help bring the Spirit to the meeting?"

I really did want this child to ponder the question and answer it for him/herself. There is no right or wrong. I mean, no one told me. I had to make that decision on my own. I guess I felt like I owed that to this chid as well. Would I be disappointed if the child wore the shoes? No. There just comes a point where each of us has to decide for ourselves, right? Maybe this was this child's chance.

My third thought though was more important that any of the others....The Spirit is ALL that matters. I have no doubt that it's a real power. I think anybody that's read me or known me for any length of time knows this. I mean, the entire trip to Japan would NEVER have happened if it weren't for that little voice that I chose to follow. I mean, seriously, in three week's time, how could things have ever fallen into place for a mother of seven with no funds or passport for such a trip? How could I ever have done this on my own. There is only one answer to this question....I couldn't have. To take that one step further, without this tie to God in my life, how could I do the things I do on a daily basis? How could I ever function with what each day brings me?

So, although this all started with a simple question about some cool, red kicks, what it all boiled down to was there are little things in life that effect my ability to not be distracted. More than anything else in this world, the Spirit is what I want. I want it with me all the time--whenever possible. It's my link to God. It's my compass in a world where I'm pretty lost. I can choose to keep it with me through simple choices I make, or I can drive it away. Why on earth would I want to do something that would make it leave me?

image credit: ecobridge.wordpress.com

Way back at the beginning of the year, I decided to dub 2012 "The Year of the Upward Spiral." It's interesting when I look around me to see all of us who sabotage ourselves. I was in Target today and saw a girl with the most beautiful face and hair. Seriously, she was lovely, but I couldn't get past the bull ring that ran through her nose. Really? What a shame! Why do we do things to ourselves? We may not do things outwardly like that, but we may do things internally--negative thinking, etc. that have the same effect. Why? Isn't it a fact that everything in this world, if not acted upon, will return to a state of entropy (disorder)? How can we control that in our own lives?

The last lesson I learned by pondering on the red Converse was more based on what it made me think about sacrament meeting and its purpose. It's the fact that that's the place where I get in contact for the week. It's the only way to upward spiral and stop erosion in my life. It is the one thing I have that pulls me in the opposite direction from this world and where it's going, and it's up to me to seek for it. I'm so glad to know that there is a power to stop the downward progression in life.

Yes, they were just a pair of red tennis shoes, but the child's answer...

"Probably not. Okay."

Maybe fine for kicking around town, but not so much for a place as important as church.

Sacrifices--Just Some Thoughts

I'm reading Exodus 29 today.  I've read this a couple times before, and each time I read it, I have to honest, it kind of grosses me out.  Eww!  Must have been a very different world back then.  I can't imagine sacrificing animals, but I understand there were symbols and purposes for these rituals.

 I contrast those things with what we are asked to sacrifice to God today--a broken heart and a contrite spirit, and it makes me EXTRA grateful to have been born in this day and age.  I look at the sacrament I take on Sundays.  What a simple rite with so much meaning.  When I take it, do I give my heart willingly and do I give it with as much sacrifice as if it were a bullock or a turtle dove?

Qualifications

I woke this morning and immediately started beating myself up.  I am really good at that.

I have a friend who was just diagnosed with cancer and friends who just lost their son and grandson, and I sat in my room all day yesterday and wrote papers.  Ugh!  Where are my priorities?

School is in its final stretches.  I have finished the reading and studying for personal finance.  Now, it’s the HUGELY ENORMOUS term paper that waits to be finished and the final exam.  From there, it’s the careers class with its essays and resumes.  Guess what…after that, I get to write a big wrap up paper about my experience with independent study.  I will then be done.  My deadline?...March 31^st.   I plan to be done with the classes and be ready to start in on the capstone paper on December 14^th.  It’s going to be quite the push to get there, but I’m praying a lot.

I continue on knowing that the end of this tunnel is so close.  Up until now, I’ve been able to take my time and pace myself.  Well, this is the final stretch, and I learned from watching my kids as they participated in cross country this fall, I have to sprint.  It’s either sprint or give up, and there’s no way I’m going to give up now.

As I lay there this morning, I got to thinking about the other writing project that lies ahead.

Right about the time I left for Japan, I received an email.  It stated that the age requirement for Mother of the Year candidacy had been lifted and that I should proceed with my portfolio.  The portfolio is a big deal—letters of recommendation, photos, written essays describing how I feel about being a mother.  That kind of stuff.

Needless to say, as I pondered this, I got to thinking, “Ha!  Yah right.  Mother of the Year doesn’t stay holed up in her bedroom for an entire day writing.  Mother of the Year doesn’t cause her husband to do all the work while she sits around typing away.”

Maybe I should just bag the whole idea…but my letters of recommendation are done, and now it just sits on me to do the rest.  Maybe I should just inform the people that wrote those nice letters that I’ve decided to bow out.  Maybe I should face the reality that I’m just not the right person for the job.  Maybe I’m just not qualified. 

But then I got to thinking about my qualifications…

As I thought further, I realized that a Mother of the Year has the kind of husband who tells her to stay in her room and type up the papers needed to graduate from college so that if anything ever happened to that husband, the mother could provide for their children in his absence.  She would have the kind of husband who uncomplainingly stepped up and cared for everyone’s needs and supported her in her goals and desires.  He would push her as needed to be all she could be and was meant to be.  He would help her reach her full potential.

Mother of the Year would have children who were supportive and capable.  Those children could and would get themselves breakfast in the morning when needed.  They, too, would step up to help their mom and dad.  They would help see to each others’ needs and would want their mom around more than need her because she would have taught them the skills they need to be independent.

When we got word that Morgan had passed away yesterday, the tears didn’t start all at once.  #3 was sitting next to me, talking to me while I typed.  That’s kind of how the day was, it was almost like the kids took turns sitting next to me, keeping me company.  I jumped over to facebook for a moment, since the night before, I had had the feeling that his passing was imminent.  #3 heard me say, “Oh no,” and asked what had happened.  I shared the news with her, and the tears ran down my cheeks.

She sat with me for a few moments and then went out shutting the door.  I heard her holler downstairs, “Mom’s in her room crying.  Morgan passed away.”

Immediately little boys’ footsteps were heard running up the stairs.  As the door came partly open, I could hear one of them say, as he jockeyed for position and pushed his way through, “But I want to hug mom too.”  They came in and grabbed me around the neck.  #5 hugged me on my left side and then #4 took over on my right shoulder.  #6 was, at this point, just trying to figure out what angle he should come at me from.  They held me for a long time, and we cried together.

Can you blame me for feeling guilty over sitting and writing papers?

The only thing that keeps me going at this point is that I know the end is coming.  If I were to quit now, what kind of example would that be for my kids?   I need to continue to teach them that we see our goals to the finish, and we make sacrifices to do so.  But, oh man, that’s HARD to do.

I keep thinking that when it’s over I’m going to have all this free time on my hands, but you know as well as I do that Heavenly Father didn’t send me here for free time. 

Someday, maybe I’ll look back on this time with fondness and feel some amount of pride at what my family’s become capable of.  For now, it’s just a matter of enduring and plugging away.

I am grateful that today’s Sunday.  I don’t study on Sundays.  We keep it as a family day, so I will get the chance sit down with each of the kids and see where they stand on their goals and see what they need from me to see them through.  I am grateful for the time together with each of my children one-on-one.  That’s definitely something I’ve learned to appreciate through this whole school experience.  My greatest qualifications surround me and share this madhouse with me.

Warm Again

When we moved into this house, it had a wood burning stove down in the family room.  It did a great job of keeping the house warm, but the Warden hated stoking the fire in the middle of the night, so one year, with our tax return, we purchased a pellet stove.

It looks lovely and keeps our house toasty all winter long.  It's a lot less expensive than using the furnace and heats a lot more solidly too.

Last year it started having trouble and wasn't pumping out the heat like we like it to.  It was really only warming the family room.

Finally, the Warden found a guy to fix it.  He's one of the only guys in the area that knows how to fix this particular brand--it's European and is now no longer being sold in the U.S.  Ugh!

The guy works all week long, and the only day he's available to do work on the side is Sunday.  The Warden asked me what I thought.  We decided that we'd offer to pay him extra and/or feed him dinner if he'd come on Saturday evening after work.

He took us up on it and came tonight.  As I'm writing this, the house is warming up and the glow of the pellet stove is making me feel all cozy.  So glad it's working again.