First Impressions

My plan was simple, really: trick the Lord into giving me a prime job at church.  We finally moved into our very first house last Monday, so today was our first Sunday in our new ward.  The idea is simple: wear a really nice suit the first day at church, and make sure you shave and comb your hair.  The Lord thinks you've turned a new leaf and inspires the Bishop of your new ward to give you a calling commesurate with your new duds, like...well, anything but nursery worker.  The Bishop wouldn't dream of sending you to a room where little grubby paws would wipe boogers and animal cracker crumbs all over your sparkly suit, right?

I think I may have blogged about doing this when we moved into our previous ward and it actually worked out pretty well.  I got called to be the Elder's Quorum secretary, where the worst thing I had to deal with was no one turning in their home teaching reports on time.

Apparently the Lord got wise to me.  Maybe I shouldn't have blogged about it.

So this morning I shaved and combed my hair for the first time in--well, however long it's been since the first Sunday in our previous ward.  I pulled my dusty, unused-since-the-first-day-of-church-in-our-previous-ward suit from the closet and put it on.  Church time rolled around and I put Ash in her car seat, blissfully unaware that as I gave her a bottle, I was setting in motion events that would result in my doom.

We arrived at church, made a good first impression as we strolled confidently into sacrament meeting, and found our seats near the front where everyone could admire the back of my combed head and the Bishop and his counselors could get a good look at my shave and slightly-wrinkled suit.  We sang the opening song, said the opening prayer, conducted a little ward business...then the Lord pulled the trigger.

Ash peed on me.

Child was apparently in on the plot.  Before I could move, she whisked Ash and the diaper bag away and was gone up the aisle.  I was left completely exposed, with nothing to hide a giant wet spot in the middle of my lap.  Disaster!  Ash had hidden my scriptures as we were rushing out the door that morning so I didn't even have those.  They were all in on it!

The boy carrying the sacrament tray was coming from the left!  The man who counted attendance was coming from the right!  The person in front would turn around to introduce himself at any moment!

I thought fast, grabbing a hymnal and opening it on my lap as if I were deeply absorbed in the lyrics to "I Believe In Christ."  Three ice ages later, Child returned with Ash and I was able to snatch her back and make a hasty, damp exit from the chapel.

So the Bishop's only impression of me was what he got from the all of five minutes I spent in sacrament meeting.  "Must be a less-active member," he probably thought.  "Maybe not a member at all.  Probably just came because his wife nagged him to be supportive on her first day in a new church.  Wonder why he was reading that hymnal?  Bit of an odd fish.  Nice hairdo, though."

So...yeah.  Nursery for me for sure.  No way the Bishop is going to trust me with a calling that deals with anything above the most rudimentary gospel principles.  So much for that plan.

Living Truth

Since our daughter has been sick (she seems mostly better now!), I've been doing a lot of reading about healing blessings and miracles.  There is a wealth of knowledge and information in the archives of Latter-day Saint church talks that is fascinating--even more-so when it applies personally to yourself given your particular circumstances.

Something struck me just now while reading.

Every now and then when I channel surf on the radio through the lower end of the dial where my NPR news likes to hang out, I stumble across some religious speaker.  I listen on occasion, and it brings back memories of attending various other religions' sermons while I was a missionary in Tennessee. 

There is a striking difference between those sermons and the ones I've been reading online.  The average sermon from a pastor will take an incident in the Bible and delve into it: history, background, various teachings or takeaway messages from it, etc.  Sometimes the sermons will be topical, drawing from a variety of Biblical references to make an interesting or helpful point on a specific subject.

These sermons are good, as is anything that lifts, enlightens, and gives direction to peoples' lives.  They can only rehash Jonah and the Whale so many times, though.  At some point they reach the end of what the Biblical writers managed to jot down and there they have to stop.  In the end, they're all missing a critical element: living revelation. 

Contrast this to a talk on, say, healing blessings given by an Apostle.  The Bible mentions several incidents of healing blessings, but doesn't go very much in depth into how they're done, who can do them, prerequisites, requirements, expectations, and limitations.

The Apostle isn't limited to the Bible, however, or even to the Book of Mormon, the book of Doctrine and Covenants, or revelation from a variety of modern prophets and Apostles, living and dead.  He has his own personal revelation as a mouthpiece of the Lord. 

As I've read through a half-dozen or so talks over the past couple hours, it keeps striking me how clearly and understandably the doctrine is laid out, how simple and organized it is, and most of all how much knowledge is added above and beyond any existing canon.  In short, a sermon given by an apostle or other inspired church leader has an incredible power impossible to find anywhere else.

Unintended consequences

Yesterday at church, the teacher of the 2-year-olds asked me to bring in our 4 month old daughter, Ash. She wanted to teach the kids that they had two fathers: an earthly father and a heavenly Father.

The problem is that now there's a bunch of 2-year-olds going around telling their friends that they have two daddies. It could make things a little awkward.

Sick.

I've been sick. I rarely get sick. I don't like getting sick.

Last Saturday, I woke up feeling not-too-good and decided to forgo the early-morning mountain biking.

Later that morning, I was playing Frisbee in Provo and just felt tired. I wasn't on top of my game, and for some reason there was only a tiny crowd of people (I found out that Ultimate Frisbee intramurals was that day so a lot of the usual players were gone doing that). The players that remained were taking the game far too seriously, shouting at each other, swearing when they missed a catch, things like that.

45 minutes into playing, another player and I crashed into each other and I almost broke my knee. Later that evening, my knee was still killing me so I took an ibuprofen--the first pill I've taken in a long time. It really helped, though, and my knee stopped hurting, although I woke up Sunday morning feeling blah. My skin was hypersensitive, my chest was congested and I was exhausted so I skipped church, another first in a couple years.

I felt better Monday and Tuesday, then got a head ache which lasted for a couple days--not sure if it was connected or not. By last Saturday I was feeling better, though, and Frisbee was great. The weather was cool, the players were normal and I had fun.

Drek's Opinion of the Day: anything taken to an extreme is bad.

Sacrament Meeting Meta-Talk

This Sunday I'm giving a 15 minute talk in church. My topic: Sacrament Meeting.

Obviously the most important part of (and main reason for) sacrament meeting is the sacrament itself, but Child was assigned that specific subject, so I want to look at some other angles.

Any ideas? Anecdotes? Thoughts or opinions on church meetings in general?

New dog, meet old trick.

I had to laugh as I read a CNN article. It's about a church in Texas that decided to (gasp!) give away money from the offering plate instead of just taking it. A couple of choice quotes:

"It was a eureka moment for Slough [ed. note: the pastor]"

"'You don't hear about a church giving money away,' Amy Sullivan [ed. note: a church member] said."

"The church has now formed a group to look into the best ways to give out money. And, Slough said, it plans on doing so as long as there is a need in the community [ed. note: forever?]."

The reason I laughed (especially about Amy Sullivan's quote of never hearing about a church giving money away) is because the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has been doing this in a formal manner for over 150 years through fast offerings.

These aren't new ideas, folks. This is what Christianity is SUPPOSED to do! As a basic tenet! It shouldn't be newsworthy when a church actually does what Jesus commanded, i.e. "Help the poor and needy."

Religions these days...

Church Notes

As I may have mentioned, Child and I teach the six-year-olds in Sunday School (Primary). Actually, due to a temporary teacher shortage, we actually teach several five- and maybe even a four-year-old. Anyway, a couple open notes to the Sunday School leadership:

1. Mother's Day should not be celebrated by handing each kid a bag of candy and two long, sharp skewers and telling them to make two "candy flowers" for their mothers. The candy will not survive an hour and a half of Sunday School in the hands of small children, and the skewers will be used to impale everything but the candy. The teachers will curse (religiously, of course) your name as they spend the next hour and a half trying to keep the candy out of their children's' mouths and the skewers out of their own skin. It's just a bad idea all around.

2. Music leader: if you don't know the second and third and fourth verse to a song without reaching for your songbook, it's a good bet none of the teachers do either, much less any of their six-year-old children. Either stick with the first, familiar verse, or hold up a poster with the words (or better yet: pictures) on it.

3. Other teachers: turning around and shushing one of our kids or telling them to get back into their seat is not helping. I've already done that several thousand times in the past hour, and expect to do it another thousand times before Sunday School is over. It's like you're second in line at a red light, and honking your horn the split second the light turns green. Don't worry, give me a moment and I'll get that kid back in their seat and shushed myself. Oh, and P.S., one of your own kids is halfway across the room climbing a stack of chairs.

Despite how this post may sounds, it's actually been somewhat fun serving in Primary. The kids are wild and noisy and impatient and bored and energetic and it's like playing Whack-A-Mole to keep them in their seats, but they can also be funny and cute and it's good experience for our own imminent kid. Who will be perfect. And who will never get out of his seat. And who will not skewer their teacher like a rack of lamb.

The Great Rattlesnake Escape

Here in Draper, Child and I teach the 6-year-old Sunday School class. At the beginning of Sunday School, all the classes meet together for "Singing Time."

On our row, I had three of our kids on my right, and Child and another kid on the left. The current song required us to stand up and "wiggle like a rattlesnake." I was momentarily distracted by Child's laughing at my shaking my bum like a rattlesnake, then Child pointed to my right. I look over to see the three six-year-olds who used to be standing to my right now halfway across the room doing an impressive army crawl, apparently taking the "wiggle like a rattlesnake" a little too literally. It took three or four teachers to surround them, but we finally got them returned to their seats.

By the way, I have to throw in a Faith Promoting Experience. The other night, my entire nose was stuffed up beyond belief with allergies. I had to breath through my mouth, which made it impossible to sleep (and gave me a sore throat), and it was 2 AM in the morning. "Just give me one nostril," I finally prayed. "Enough so I can breath through my nose long enough to fall asleep."

10 minutes later, I had one nostril open, and was able to fall asleep. Go God!

New Year, New Class

Child and I teach the 13-year-olds at church. Last year, our class was 5 girls. They were nice girls, but had apparently slept through a few too many lessons. Getting them to stop chattering with each other and pay attention was like pulling teeth. They didn't know whether Genesis was in the Old or New Testament, and Child and I didn't even bother asking them to recite a scripture from memory.

At the New Year, we got a new class. We now have three kids, although only two showed up for the first Sunday. Both go to private/charter schools, they were highly intelligent, quiet, respectful, answered questions, and volunteered to read. Due to a mix-up in lesson manuals, we taught the lesson that they heard at the beginning of January last year--and they actually remembered it. One of them still had the handouts from the lesson in his scripture bag! Our last class could barely remember if they had even come to church the previous week!

It'll be a change, that's for sure. I'm looking forward to it.

Your babies are ugly! All of them! ...except two.

Today was the third week Child and I attended our "married student" church, where 70% of the people have a baby under a year old and 60% of them are expecting in the next two months. 1% (Child and I) have neither a baby nor are expecting.

As you might guess, this has caused some problems, mostly for Child, who feels (fairly enough) that she is somewhat of an outsider and that nothing relates to her. Our sacrament meeting was composed of ten or so short talks, assigned by the bishop and given by the church members, illustrating faith. Most of them had something to do with childbirth.

"My wife was in labor for thirty pain-filled hours but we had faith..."
"I had these various complications with the pregnancy but thanks to faith..."
"My wife had horrible nausea and cramps for the last eight months of her pregnancy but with faith..."

I'm setting next to Child cringing. At the end, Child leans over to me and says scowls, "We're never having children."

Curses! I'm having a hard enough time convincing her she wants a baby.

Then we split up for our guy/girl classes. Afterwards, I reported that us guys learned about reverence. Child grumpily said she had learned about how to teach your children to be reverent.

She also handed me a schedule of activities for the women she had gotten. I was pleased, because the previous week she had complained that the only activities were for women with babies. "Hey, you like swimming, you can go to the swimming group!" I suggested.

She pointed to the description. "Come enjoy the shade and company while you watch your children swim..."

"How about the walking group?" I suggested.

"Join us as we push strollers around the neighborhood..."

"The cooking group?"

"Want to make your own baby food? Come learn how..."

Poor Child. I feel for her, I really do.

There was one bright note: our meeting time will be moved from 8:30 AM to 10:30 AM in two weeks. It won't solve any of the underlying problems, but at least Child won't have to face them on too-little sleep. :)