It's Traditional

I love it when Brits wish me a Happy Thanksgiving. They're always so gleeful and delighted when they do -  something about engaging in another nationality's cultural events, or perhaps a positive ironic exchange (as the first people to celebrate Thanksgiving were getting away from the British), or maybe they're just angling for turkey and pie. Whatever the reason, it's charming and cheering and sweet.

Last year's holiday celebration was a new experience, as we had a lecture that day (and I think every English person on my course said 'Happy Thanksgiving' before any of the Americans had a chance) and then got together that night for an American Thanksgiving in London. I made an apple pie from scratch. (I still have the unopened can of Crisco purchased as a backup in case the butter pastry didn't work.) I introduced several wide-eyed impressionables to the wonder of apple slices dipped in caramel sauce. We had a truly stellar turkey, although it wasn't served until an hour or so after the meal actually started. I taught the entire group our family Thanksgiving hymn, "Johnny Brubeck"*.

This year I'm in Canterbury while my friends from Central are in London (and points far-scattered), and my Kent course-mates are in Germany at a theatre festival. I have a ticket for a show this evening, and plan to study, apply for Christmas jobs, and get my tourist on by visiting a monastery and the nearby 'oldest parish church in England'. I will also be searching for truly amazing pie. There is plenty to be grateful for, and not just in a 'could be worse' kind of way: I'm grateful to have smart, funny, caring, wonderful friends both here and back home in the States. I'm grateful to have the means to do what I'm doing (and grateful to be so busy with it all that I don't often have time to think about how it'll take me the rest of forever to pay off the student loans!). I'm grateful for tremendous supervisors and lecturers. I'm grateful to have a healthy, functioning body and am a little more determined every day to take better care of it. I'm grateful my brother's family is being supported and cared for by friends and neighbors, since we can't be there to help. I'm grateful my hair growing out doesn't look as strange as I'd feared. I'm grateful for a bus pass. I'm grateful to be an effective, contributing member of a ward full of lovely people. I'm grateful for a pleasant room, and that Canterbury is such a nice place to live.

Believe me, there's lots more where that came from, but I think it's time to get started on finding that pie!** Happy Thanksgiving! May you eat, rejoice, and be reminded every day of the things that are most important!





* The family in this video sings a slightly different version of the tune, but you definitely get the picture. And they've got at least one verse I've never heard before! I'm going to go learn it, and teach it to my family next year! 
** Tomorrow, I think, may see me breaking out that Crisco and making some pie-dough cookies. Yum.

Big Moment

... and naturally it happens on a day when I'm still at home, working in my pajamas. I haven't even combed my hair. (That's a joke. And true.) I'm about to leave the house and pick up some groceries, then come back and finish cleaning my room, prepping my Sunday School lesson, and polishing the CV and seasonal-job cover letters.

In the middle of this, all that is mundane, the mail arrived. (Like it sometimes does.) There was a letter from the Central School of Speech & Drama. (It honestly seems like yesterday, and like forever ago, that I was starting to wander around London and trying to figure out what 'devised theatre' was.)

I HAVE OFFICIALLY BEEN AWARDED A MASTERS' DEGREE.

I have an MA from the Central School of Speech & Drama (and I'm a little bit torn about including that on the CV that is supposed to get me a minimum-wage Christmas job).

That huge student loan and that year of stress and angst really counted. It will mean something to the rest of my life beyond 'good experience'. I moved to the UK, and when I go back to the States I will have a piece of paper that proves I did something with my time there.

It's a relief, and a release, and a really nice motivation to make this year at the University of Kent be EVEN BETTER.

Remembrance Sunday

Friday was Armistice Day, November 11, or Veteran's Day in the States. In the UK Armistice Day (or Remembrance Day) commemorates the end of World War I on that day in 1918; hostilities formally ended on the 11th day of the 11th month in the 11th hour. It's a day of memorial for all who have died in the line of duty since then, and you will see people all over Britain wearing red paper poppies on their lapels from the first of November through Remembrance Sunday, the one that follows the 11th. A two minutes' silence is observed at 11:00, with services and ceremonies following both on Armistice Day and Remembrance Sunday. This year I found a little metal poppy pin, so I'll have it to wear every year; it is so important that we never forget.

The First Two Minute Silence in London (11th November 1919) as reported in the Manchester Guardian, 12th November 1919.

'The first stroke of eleven produced a magical effect.

The tram cars glided into stillness, motors ceased to cough and fume, and stopped dead, and the mighty-limbed dray horses hunched back upon their loads and stopped also, seeming to do it of their own volition.

Someone took off his hat, and with a nervous hesitancy the rest of the men bowed their heads also. Here and there an old soldier could be detected slipping unconsciously into the posture of 'attention'. An elderly woman, not far away, wiped her eyes, and the man beside her looked white and stern. Everyone stood very still ... The hush deepened. It had spread over the whole city and become so pronounced as to impress one with a sense of audibility. It was a silence which was almost pain ... And the spirit of memory brooded over it all.'

* * * * *

In Flanders Fields

by John McCrae, May 1915

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields. 

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Sunday(s) Snippets

Last weekend I went to Cardiff, Wales, to visit a friend and hang out for Bonfire Night (that whole 'Guy Fawkes' thing). I have video clips of the fireworks, which were amazing, and we toured around and checked out castles, which I loved.

Church on Sunday, though, was a trip - I didn't know exactly which building the meeting was in, and there wasn't a sign... but just as I got out of the car I spotted the missionaries walking down the street. All I had to do was follow them to get to the right place! (Yes. It's also a metaphor. Good job.) The ward met in a trade school that was a lovely old converted Georgian building - Sacrament Meeting was in a beautiful hall with massive lead-paned windows and blue-and-white paneling. (It was freezing.) It's true what they say - the Welsh really do have marvelous singing voices! Even when they don't have a pianist, which they didn't when the meeting started... there was a general call for volunteers to play, and I gave in and went up to play for the Sacrament hymn. I was terrible, but the volume was down so low on the electric keyboard I don't think anyone could really hear me anyway.

It was a very nice and a very interesting testimony meeting; one of the windows was cracked open (probably at least part of the reason it was cold) and it evidently couldn't be shut because it was too high up and a tree branch had started growing through the opening. A few minutes after the testimonies started a hummingbird climbed in through the open window and then spent the rest of the meeting trying to find it's way back out - we were trying to listen, but in reality the entire congregation was fascinated watching this bird fly from window to window to try to get through the clear glass. A ward member finally walked around the room and opened all the windows he could reach, and the bird crept out - you could practically feel the collective sigh of relief!

I do like a good portcullis.

That afternoon my friend and I visited Cardiff Castle (which is beautifully overdecorated) and then went to the Millenium Centre for a singalong of 'The Messiah'. I was pretty excited about it, actually - how often can you say you sang the Messiah with a Welsh choir? Not often, that's for sure. (Unless you live in Wales and do this kind of thing a lot.) Anyway, the orchestra was on the stage, the choir (who had all paid 15 or so pounds - for charity - to sing) filled up the entire stalls section, and the audience (including me) were in the first balcony. I could just see the bass section and a few of the tenors. The soloists actually stood in the boxes to either side of the stage, which was a pretty nice staging idea. The whole thing was lovely, and at the end the conductor invited the audience to stand again and sing along as they reprised the Hallelujah Chorus. Guess I wasn't the only audience member that wanted to say they'd sung with a Welsh choir!

* * * * *

I'm starting to be afraid that I really have 'graduated' from playing the piano badly for the Primary to playing badly for the entire ward - I've been stumbling along in Relief Society, and then today the Sacrament pianist didn't show up so I was drafted. The Sacrament hymn started off so, so awfully... and the chorister still had the congregation sing through the extra two verses anyway! On the plus side, by the time we got through that last verse my playing actually sounded OK; and, at least it wasn't 'A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief.' (Listen to your mother. PRACTICE THE PIANO.)

I had actually prepared to teach the 12-16-yr-olds in Sunday School for the first time - the Sunday School President hadn't known what lesson they were on, so I counted back from the end of the year and guessed. I found out upon arrival that they'd had that lesson the week before. Oy. I thought I'd be reprieved when I heard I only had one student, a teenage boy - I figured it'd be less awkward for everyone if we just went in with the adults instead, only to find that the adult Gospel Doctrine teacher hadn't shown up and the bishopbric wondered if I would mind teaching the lesson. I stood up and 'facilitated' the lesson I hadn't prepared (gotta stick to that schedule!) and it was terrific - it's amazing how fun that kind of thing can be when the whole group is pulling together! (Seriously, teachers should remember to put a little more responsibility on the class members, instead of trying to feed them information. They've got some really great stuff.)

In fact, my favorite thing of the day came when we were discussing 1 Peter 2:8 and talking about how we can be 'living stones' (it's such a great picture - are stones tempted by the vices of the world? I think not) and yet not be a stumbling stone for someone else... and a class member raised the idea that perhaps we SHOULD be 'stumbling stones of offence' for other people - that we could be so determined to be righteous and to build the kingdom that we help to create a 'stumbling stone' that the world cannot help but to stop and look at, that interrupts them in their daily pursuits and makes them acknowledge that there is something greater. The same class member later reminded us about D&C 122:9, part of the section on extreme affliction, and how the Lord is always with us. SUCH a great time in Sunday School today.

And I'm more determined than ever to practice the piano regularly.

Sunrise over Cardiff Lake and Cardiff Bay. Yes, it really was sunrise. Yes, I really was there and awake. Shut up.

FYI

You know what? In general, people are really pretty nice.

Don't try to hide it, I see your "WHA-?!?" face.

No, it's true.

Just a few days ago the scary-grumpy-looking lady I avoided making eye contact with on the street walked past and very pleasantly made a point of letting me know the bus was close, since I had my earphones in and might not have heard it. (She didn't seem particularly grumpy after that. Huh.)

Nearly everyone here thanks the bus driver when they get off, and the bus driver nearly always responds (cheerfully).

The college-age kid coming down the stairs who normally would have walked by and pretended like no one else was around smiled today and indicated I should go first.

Smile and direct even a slightly friendly comment to a taxi driver, and they'll happily talk your ear off. (Every one.)

The guy who works at the reception desk in the theatre building who scares the dickens out of the undergrads is actually a big, perpetually scowling, black-clothes wearing, spiky-black-hair gelling teddy bear who will wink at you and call you 'love' when he sees you if you suck up just a tiny bit. (He smiles, too! It's a little scary, but he does!)

Everyone I've joked with in recent memory (grocery checkout, queueing up for something, at church, on the bus, etc...) has been perfectly willing to joke along.

In a lecture recently someone was telling us about a study in which the majority (80%+) of the unsuspecting public that were observed behaved in a way that was 'good' or 'honest', even though when people are asked they tend to assume others will be 'good/honest' only about half the time. People are usually better than we think they are. And I've found lately that they're definitely nicer than I've thought they'd be.

Except, of course, for those kids - I'm still planning to yell at them to get off my lawn every chance I get.

Cheers!

One Mormon's Respectful Response

... to being referred to as a member of a 'cult', or told that they are 'not Christian'.

This is pretty much what I've been planning to write for quite some time. Only it's much better.

* * * * *

Dear Pastor Jeffress (of First Baptist Dallas),

I’m just one of the millions of people who saw and heard on TV news shows your statements that “Mormonism is a cult” and “not a part of orthodox Christianity”.  As a faithful lifelong member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints I felt a strong reaction to those statements, as you might imagine.  My remarks here are only my personal thoughts, but I assure you they are heartfelt.

My reaction was twofold.   First, I saw your remarks as an unfortunate “below-the-belt” swipe at Mitt Romney in the hopes of advancing your own favorite political candidate.   While you certainly have the right to do that, I think many Americans join me in feeling that such a move was beneath a prominent religious leader such as yourself. 

Second, as a devoted believer and follower of Jesus Christ I was saddened that you felt the need to speak out against my faith and beliefs.  I’m sure there are those who think it was done with malice, but I’ll try to do the Christ-like thing and give you the benefit of the doubt.  Perhaps you’ve just been misinformed about “Mormonism” as many others have been.

But it might surprise you to learn that I actually agree with part of what you said, although perhaps for different reasons than you might imagine.

You said that Mitt Romney is “not a Christian” (and by association myself and the other six million-plus Americans who are Latter-day Saints).  But I believe you need to be more specific.  There are many different kinds or “flavors” of Christians.  I agree that the LDS people are not Baptist Christians or Evangelical Christians or Catholic Christians, etc.   I will even agree that we’re not part of  “orthodox” or “traditional” flavor of Christianity, if by that you mean the post-Nicene church that became the “universal” or “catholic” version of Christendom. 

I believe my faith to be the original church of the Corinthians, the Ephesians, and yes, those who were first called Christians in Antioch,  - that same church now restored in these latter days.  So I call myself a “latter-day Christian", with theological roots that precede the “historical” or “orthodox” version that was the product of the various councils and creeds.  That “orthodoxy” eventually became so corrupt and so apostate that the Reformers broke away from it in protest of its having “fallen away” from Biblical truths (2 Thess. 2) and “changed the ordinances” (Isa. 24:5) so that the “faith once delivered to the saints” (Jude 1:3) was no longer recognizable as the church that Jesus organized.

There were many enlightened Christian thinkers and theologians in history who, like Joseph Smith, believed that Christianity had become apostate and that a restoration of the New Testament church of Christ was necessary.  John Wesley the founder of Methodism wrote:

   It does not appear that these extraordinary gifts of the Holy Ghost were common in the Church for more than two or three centuries. We seldom hear of them after that fatal period when the Emperor Constantine called himself a Christian; . . . From this time they almost totally ceased; . . . The Christians had no more of the Spirit of Christ than the other Heathens . . . . This was the real cause why the extraordinary gifts of the Holy Ghost were no longer to be found in the Christian Church; because the Christians were turned Heathens again, and had only a dead form left.

The Works of John Wesley, vol. 7, pp.26-27

As I’m sure you well know, John Smythe the founder of the Baptists first left his position as a Church of England minister and joined the Separatists, but then dissolved his congregation to re-form it as the first General Baptist church among English expatriates in Amsterdam in 1609.  He felt that the “historic” or “orthodox” Christianity of his time had wandered astray, especially with regard to the apostate doctrine of infant baptism.  Those first Baptists were considered a “cult” by many Protestants in the “traditional” Christian denominations that persecuted them unmercifully.

Around 1640, Roger Williams of Providence, Rhode Island, founder of the first Baptist church in America refused to continue as pastor on the grounds that there was:

… no regularly‑constituted church on earth, nor any person authorized to administer any Church ordinance: nor could there be until new apostles are sent by the great Head of the Church, for whose coming, I am seeking.

 (Picturesque America, or the Land We Live In, ed. William Cullen Bryant, New York: D. Appleton and Co., 1872, vol. 1, p. 502.)

If I understand your words correctly your definition of a Christian (and that of most Evangelicals) is a pretty narrow one, far different from the standard meaning found in most dictionaries.  Personally I think anyone who accepts Jesus Christ as the Only Begotten Son of God and as his/her personal Savior who died for our sins and was bodily resurrected on the third day is a Christian.  C.S. Lewis described such people as “mere” Christians.

But your narrow definition would exclude anyone who:

1. Does not believe in a closed canon of the 66 books of the Protestant Bible.

2. Does not accept the Nicene Creed as an accurate description of the nature of God the Father, His Son Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost.

3. Believes in living prophets and apostles as the “foundation” of Christ’s earthly church.

4. Believes in continuing revelation from God to man.

     I could go on.  I’m very familiar with the standard arguments against “Mormonism”.

But the Bible says that believers in Christ were first called Christians at Antioch (Acts 11:26).  I would respectfully submit that those Christians:

1. Did not believe in a closed canon of scripture.  (some of the New Testament had not yet been written.)

2. Did not accept the Nicene Creed as an accurate description of the nature of God the Father, His Son Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost.  (it would not be written for 300 years)

3. Believed in living apostles and prophets as the “foundation” of Christ’s earthly church.

4. Believed in continuing revelation from God to man.

So if you’re going to say that Mitt and I are not Christians based on those reasons, you’ll have to say that the believers in Antioch were not Christians either according to your definition.

You said in your Hardball interview that “Mormonism” is a “cult” because:

1. “Mormonism came 1800 years after Jesus Christ”

2. “Mormonism has its own human leader, Joseph Smith”

3. “it has its own set of doctrines”

4. “it has its own religious book, The Book of Mormon, in addition to the Bible”

Your exact following words were:  “and so by that definition it is a theological cult”.  You made a weak distinction between a theological cult and a sociological one, but most people will not even notice that fine differentiation.  It was obvious to any sophisticated viewer that your main goal was to keep repeating the word “cult”.   It’s such an inflammatory buzz word that I’m sure your goal is to use it as often as you can to scare people away from “Mormonism” without seriously considering our theology and our beliefs.  It’s a word used to end or avoid discussion, not to foster it.  As a Latter-day Saint I welcome the opportunity to “stand ready to give a reason for the faith that is in me”, but those who sling around the word “cult” with respect to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints seek to cut off debate rather than to encourage dialog.  It’s as though they are afraid of an open and honest discussion.

But following your own definition of “cult” for a moment, I’d like to respectfully submit that:

1. Roman Catholicism came 300 years after Jesus Christ.

2. Roman Catholicism has its own human leader, the Pope (or Peter if you accept the Catholic claims that he was the first Pope)

3. Roman Catholicism has its own set of doctrines (Mariology, transubstantiation, priestly celibacy, veneration of  “saints”, indulgences, etc.)

4. Roman Catholicism has its own religious books (9 deuterocanonical more than those found in the Protestant Bible – also used in Eastern Orthodox churches)

And even your own Baptist flavor of Christianity in some ways fits your definition of what makes a cult;

1. “Baptistism” came 1609 years after Jesus Christ

2. “Baptistism” had its own human leader John Smythe – a Church of England minister (see footnote below from the website of  the Baptist History and Heritage Society)

3. “Baptistism” had its own unique doctrines, including the “believer’s baptism” of adults.

4. “Baptistism” was considered a cult by the “orthodox” or “traditional” or “historic” Christian denominations of the time.  In fact Baptists suffered severe persecution from other Christians who believed in the “mainline” doctrine of infant baptism prevalent in that era.  Thousands of Baptists were martyred for baptizing adults.

One of the dictionary definitions of a cult is that is a small isolated group that is out of the mainstream.  That certainly does not apply to my church.  The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the fourth largest religion in America, and the second largest Christian church in Washington, Oregon, and California (after Catholicism).  You mentioned that there are 15 million Southern Baptists.  By 2012 at the present rate of growth there will be more Latter-day Saints than that.

Pastor Jeffress, in order to be consistent and truthful you would have to admit that the same definition you’ve used to brand “Mormonism” a cult applies at least in part to  Roman Catholicism and “Baptistism” as well.  Are you willing to say that on national television?  I would hope so.  I would hope that you’d want to be totally consistent and truthful.

Thank you for your time.  I’m attaching a summary I wrote of what I believe happened to “the faith once delivered to the saints”.  There was a great apostacy that fundamentally changed the New Testament church of Jesus Christ into something so different that those Christians at Antioch or Peter or Paul would not have recognized it in the Dark Ages that came upon the earth.   (Amos 8:12)  That apostacy required the “restitution of all things” prophesied in Acts 3:21 to occur before Christ’s return.   That restitution or restoration of original Biblical Christianity was what was looked forward to by Roger Williams.

I testify to you that that restoration has come, and the original Christianity is back on the earth in its fullness as The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  If you would like to investigate these claims I’ll be happy to “bring forth my strong reasons” for “the faith that is in me.”  I would welcome a thoughtful dialog.

Cordially yours,

Robert Starling

A Latter-day Christian

(footnote to above reference to John Smyth)

BHHS -- Baptist Beginnings http://www.baptisthistory.org/baptistbeginnings.htm

The first General Baptist church, led by John Smyth, was founded in Amsterdam, Holland, in 1608/09. Its members were English refugees who had fled England to escape religious persecution. John Smyth was a minister in the Church of England. As a student and later as a pastor and teacher. …   By 1608/09, Smyth was convinced his Separatist church was not valid. Most of the members had only infant baptism, and the church was formed on the basis of a "covenant," rather than a confession of faith in Christ. Smyth therefore led the church to disband in 1608/09 and re-form on a new basis–a personal confession of faith in Christ, followed by believer’s baptism. Since none of the members had been baptized as believers, Smyth had to make a new beginning. He baptized himself and then baptized the others. His baptism was by sprinkling or pouring, but it was for believers only.

* * * * *

This is a post I came across on Facebook. I think it's beautifully, calmly, intelligently, faithfully laid out, and the author did an amazing job. What are the chances Pastor Jeffress actually WOULD ever read it? Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleeeaaase let that happen...