Monday, December 31, 2012

A Blog for the Sabbath: The Light of Christ

I'm reading Jeremiah and slowly heading towards Malachi. (It's been a long slog but I couldn't have done it without the guidance of those Institute Manuals. Boy do those really help unfold a thousand layers of historical perspective. And my attitude has improved.) Poor Jeremiah. His people are about to be invaded, disenfranchised, discombobulated, raped, pillaged...

The prophet Jeremiah, going it alone. Literally
Just a brief note of a theme I've noticed: impending doom. It's truly apocalyptic, the weight of a thousand seas bearing down on two civilizations delighting in evil, dwelling beyond the influence of the Light of Christ. This is where we find the Israelites in the book of Jeremiah, which just so happens to correspond with Mormon chapter 5, in the Book of Mormon, where my family happens to be at in our nightly scripture reading. Nephites and Lamanites, once united for nearly two hundred years after Christ's personal ministry following his resurrection, are, decades later, utterly divorced from the Light of Christ and marching to their utter doom. Literally it's like a Conan the Barbarian movie with all the dialogue removed (dialogue?!) and the hacking, chopping, stabbing left in. This is all the Nephites and Lamanites do, and to each other. They get off on it, like the SS got off on killing Jews. That's how degenerative their spiritual state had become.
Mormon, probably in happier times.

Of course, as Mormon narrates it, he laments what he witnesses, falters in his faith for their well-being, prays for them without hope. Very sad. But Mormon councils us--those who would read and study this record 1500 years later--to embrace all that is of Christ, that we might be guided by the prompting of the Holy Ghost.

Jeremiah is in the same boat. Right now he's stands before the royal court (royal! that's funny...), chained and smitten (beaten, for those who don't habla scripturesque). He's witnessing a perpetual eruption of spiritual vomitus from his people. No Light of Christ dwells in their hearts. (It's kind of hard to listen to the promptings of Heavenly Father when you're blood sacrificing little children to the gods of Baal.) With no L of C to differentiate between good and evil, there's no Holy Ghost to give you specific instructions. As readers today we are expected to take in this unfolding tragedy and avoid the same pitfalls.

At least for ourselves and those around us.

Tuesday, December 25, 2012

New Layout

It's a start. 'Kay?

The Hangover

Merry Christmas folks. I'm running on fumes this morning. I don't know what a hangover feels like but my head is throbbing and I gotta go drive north for a Christmas visit. We just opened presents. The kerosene heater is going and Kung Fu Panda is playing in the background. (Don't ask.) What makes a good Christmas? When you get what you want? Okay...what did you want? I suppose that's what makes Christmas truly special, or a self-perpetuating tragedy. I have my family. I have a home. We have food and utilities and a steady income. I have a career that challenges me across the human spectrum. And ditto on my church calling. I have the Gospel of Jesus Christ, restored and maintained through actual living and breathing prophets personally called of God. This is what I want, what I want to keep for Christmas.

Can't sleep. Frankenstein will eat me.

Okay. It's 3:25 Christmas morning. I can't sleep because--no I'm not eagerly awaiting Santa Claus. I'm 47, not 11. I haven't been to this blog in two years and I want to get back at it but the old format isn't going to hack it. But consider this a feeble reengineering start. I must find a design that is real and not a regurgitation not some pre-chewed format. Oh yeah. And I started reading Frankenstien today. Yep I said read, not watch. Did I spell that right? Is it Stein? I'm not looking it up. I don't care if I am an English teacher. What do you mean I should know? Why should I automatically know how to spell Franken...stien? Just 'cause it's a book? I suppose I because I know how to spell Godzilla makes me Honey Boo-Boo's gimp brother. Well Godzilla can kick Frankenstien's butt...because Frankenstien isn't the monster. He's the mad scientist who made the monster. And he's not mad. Just a curious scientist. Very. I'm signing off. I'll deal with you people later. Merry Christmas. Go see the Hobbit. Or read it. Read it.