"The Way I Loved You"

Written on my birthday:



This is the song I'm listening to right now, one of the songs I listened to earlier today.  My collection of Taylor Swift CDs and my walkman (they are not ancient: I just got mine in January) have gotten me through many a shift when I should technically be unconscious due to only having had four hours of sleep (stupid night-owl tendencies).  Last night I had more sleep, but it was the end of an 8-day workweek where I've been covering for my partner, so I decided to take my walkman along.

If you're familiar with some of my previous posts, you know that when I listen to many love songs, I attach more significance to them than the artists generally intend.  Since I see, from the Bible, that the relationship between Christ and the Church--God and me--is to be a Great Romance, I sometimes listen to love songs as applying to the love between God and me.  "State of Grace", for instance, has become my favorite song because I listen to it as telling how God surprises me and meets me in the middle of my hectic "touch and go" life and how, while my relationship with Him is far from perfect (I mean, I'm in it, and I'm not perfect) it is in "a state of grace" and constitutes a "worthwhile fight."  When I listened to "The Way I Loved You" today, I had the same frame of mind, taking the song as being about God and me, though knowing Taylor Swift intended it to be about her and some guy.  It was not the first time I did it with this song, but it had a particular impact today.

The song is from the point of view of a girl who is comparing her current boyfriend to her ex, to whom she sings.  The first two verses describe how perfect her new boyfriend is.  He says and does all the right things and all of her single friends are jealous, he gets along with her family...he's a nice, charming, endearing man--but she doesn't feel anything for him, and he can't even tell.  In the choruses and in the end, the girl describes the rocky-but-heartfelt relationship she had with her ex.  She concludes that even though their relationship was troubled it was "a rollercoaster-kind of rush/ and I never knew I could feel that much" and she wants him back despite the turbulent emotions because "that's the way I loved you!"

Like I said, I've applied this song to my walk with Christ before.  To me, it was about the contrast between a relationship that outwardly looked fine but had no heart and one that might appear chaotic, but was right on track because it was from the heart.  Honestly, this has been a struggle for me.  I associate being a "good Christian" with doing so many outward things: faithful Bible reading, prayer lists a mile long, general respectable behavior, church attendance, etc...you get the idea.  While all of these things can be good, I wind up doing them mechanically.  While I count chapters read recently to rate my performance, my heart grows cold.  If I do well enough in my performance, I look like I have an excellent Christian life--like everything's smooth sailing between me and God, but I don't feel "anything at all."  But if I do live from my heart, if I do let my faith affect my heart, it is no longer a stable, neat-looking thing.  My emotions are, surprisingly, not always positive and my heart can be a troubled place.  If I let my relationship with God in there, it can get rocked.  I can wind up "screaming and fighting" with God over all the situations I get into, over all the "heart-surgeries" he performs.  It isn't safe, but it's worth it.  There are some golden moments, and the relationship is very real.  Outward things may make me look like I've got it all together, but if I'm going to really love God, it has to be at the heart--even if it's turbulent and unpredictable that's the way I love Him.

I listened to the song today at noon and, as it ended, God offered me a choice.  He wanted to know which I wanted to live, a life that outwardly looks good, but where I feel nothing, or a I-never-knew-I-could-feel-that-much life that's outwardly messy, but lived from a full heart.  I knew that Christ did not come and die for me to look presentable on the outside.  He died to give me life on the inside.  He came so that I might have not just life, but abundant life (John 10:10)!  I knew what the right decision was and, despite the drama and my reservations, I knew that "screaming and fighting and kissin' in the rain" was the way I loved God.  So I prayed for a fully-felt life, lived from the heart.

At 2pm, a good friend of mine began texting me to say that, because of the various things that were going wrong in his life, he did not want to live any longer.  I became very anxious and wound up calling the police who took him in to get help at a local hospital.  Later he called me, and guessing I was the one who informed the police, thanked me and assured me he was unharmed.  We talked for a couple of hours during the night until he went to see the psychiatrist and was released.  He's now planning on moving to another state, where his work and housing situations, at least, stand to improve.

So, it did not take long at all for a fully-felt life to come.  Involving myself in my friend's troubles meant exposing myself to the disappointment and confusion, and to admitting my own dismay at not knowing how to "fix" the problems that were devastating him.  Calling the police meant taking the risk of embarrassing him and losing the friendship.  People who've heard about this happening on my birthday have assumed it ruined it.  But it didn't.  It was something I fully felt and in the end I had the great privileged of, in some small way, giving life to my friend...as Christ has given me life.  It made me love Him more and realize more how much I am loved.  It may have been a turbulent day with God's ironic sense of timing...but that's the way I love Him.

Comparable to the Bible: Eleven Things about 1 Nephi 11 and 12

I'm back!  Sorry I haven't posted for a while.  This post has been much delayed as I tried to organize my thoughts into larger coherent units that I could do individual posts on.  In the end, I gave up and the result is this list.  These are 11 things I found noteworthy in my reading of 1 Nephi 11 and 12, specifically relating to the question of whether or not the Book of Mormon is comparable to the Bible.

1. Assumption of truth
In my previous post, I commented on how different the Bible and the Book of Mormon are in the way they teach followers to determine whether or not something is true.  In the Bible, the testimonies of other scriptures and of objective external facts are used as ways to determine truth.  The Book of Mormon, however, encourages people to rely on subjective supernatural "testimony" received through prayer.  That was the gist of my post on the subject, but re-reading the opening of chapter 11, I think I may have missed something, namely that the Book of Mormon never says Nephi is trying to determine whether or not his father's words are true.  On the contrary, his father's veracity seems to be assumed from the outset.  The steps he takes before the vision are "desiring to know the things that my father had seen" (not desiring to know the truth about them, or whether or not they were true, just desiring to know them), believing that God can show them to Nephi, and Nephi himself pondering them in his heart.  At no point is it said or implied that Nephi had any doubt that his father had seen a vision or that the vision had been true.  In fact, before he even starts his answering vision, he's asked whether or not he believes the vision his father saw and he answers emphatically yes.

Pairing this observation with my previous post--where I noticed that Nephi's truth-finding techniques were essentially the same as what the Mormon Church encourages for prospective converts seeking to determine the truthfulness of their organization and the Book of Mormon--creates a rather troubling technique.  Relying on subjective spiritual experiences as the sole guide to truth is bad enough, but if you must first assume the Book of Mormon is true in order to receive this testimony, the whole thing devolves into a circular argument: wherein one believes the Book of Mormon is true because he received spiritual testimony that it was true, which he only received after believing the Book of Mormon was true...  Even if the argument weren't circular, the result would still be that one was drawing a conclusion (the Book of Mormon is true) and then finding evidence to back it.

This is, again, the opposite of the process laid out in the Bible.  In the Bible, evidence is considered before conclusions are drawn, not the other way around, even in spiritual matters.  But if the conclusion comes first in Mormonism...well, finding evidence to support a conclusion you've already made is easy, especially if all you need is a spiritual warm-fuzzy feeling to qualify as proof.

2. The Sign of Nephi

As I mentioned in that previous post, signs figure prominently in the Bible as a source of objective confirmation of truth.  These signs are always externally verifiable things (the fleece has no dew on it, the shadow moves backward on the sundial, the blind can see, the dead are raised), and usually are supernatural.

But in verse 7 of chapter 11, Nephi is having a vision, in which the spirit of god speaks to him.  This spirit tells him, "this shall be a sign unto you" and then proceeds to tell him what he will see next in the vision, which immediately takes place.  Good sign, right?

Wrong.  The sign is not an externally verifiable objective fact.  When the angel said to the shepherds, "this shall be a sign unto you," the angel told them they were going to find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloth, lying in a feeding trough.  It was truly an unusual thing to see, but they found it.  The baby was real, wrapped in actual swaddling cloth, lying in a genuine Bethleham manger.  They could have asked any passerby on the street to come and verify that it was so, and the stranger could have confirmed that, yes, that is a baby wrapped in swaddling cloth, lying in a feeding trough (followed by the stranger asking what a baby is doing in a feeding trough, or in the stables at all for that matter, and also wondering why the shepherds are suddenly so excited).  But the "sign" Nephi is given is a part of a vision he alone sees.  He can't go to his brothers and ask them to confirm it, because it's part of a subjective experience.

Worse still, if we assume that his vision is under the control and influence of the spirit that's talking to him, the sign becomes pretty hokey.  If the spirit can control the vision, it's as easy for it to arrange the "sign" of telling Nephi what will happen next in the vision as it would be for me to arrange a "sign" of telling you that the next section of this post will be called "3 The Appearance of the Spirit."  I can make the next section whatever I want it to be: but that doesn't mean I have the power to control events in the world at large or access to higher spiritual truths.  In fact, the sign of Nephi is even less compelling because, again, it is not objective (whereas anyone can read the title of the next section of this post and it is externally verifiable).

3. The Appearance of the Spirit

See!  I told you this was coming?  ...Not impressed?  That's okay, neither am I.

Moving on, the next thing that confuses me is that, in verse 11 of chapter 11, Nephi describes the appearance of the spirit of god, that he was "in the form of a man" and that he spake to him "as one man speaketh with another."

This is very odd.  For starters, the Bible never describes the Spirit of God as having human form.  Sure, God is spoken of poetically in human terms all the time, and Jesus, to be certain, has (and retains) a human body.  But I can't recall of single instance where the Spirit is said to have a human body, or even appear to have such a thing.

Things get even weirder when comparison is made to Mormon theology, however.  As I understand it (and anyone who understands it better, feel free to correct me), in Mormon theology, the Holy Ghost is the only member of the trinity (which is, more correctly, a triad) which does not possess a physical body...even though my understanding of Mormon theology is that obtaining a physical body (which is, according to Mormonism the step we're going through now) is a vital part of the path to godhood--but that's a question for another day!  For today the question is: if the Holy Ghost doesn't have a body, why does he appear to have one in verse 11?

4. The Disappearance of the Spirit

After you have put some effort into describing a character, it is good practice, as writer, to have said character stick around a bit.  The reason is that you don't give details about something if it's not going to be important.  This is called the law of conservation of detail, and its a universal convention of good writing.  Even the Bible uses it.  You'll notice that practically no one in the Bible gets a physical description, and when they do, it's sure to be a plot point (ex: the only physical description of Jesus occurs in Revelation 1:13-16, where his unusual appearance serves to back up the supernatural nature of the revelation and justify John's reaction in verse 17).  The Book of Mormon itself has appealed to the law before, as Nephi stated (and restated, and stated again, just in case we missed it) that he wasn't going to include geneologies because they were unimportant, un-spiritual, and would waste space on the gold plates...and yet here he is perfectly happy to spend space describing how the spirit of god appeared and how he asked him a question and then--

The spirit's gone.  There's no reason, no explanation, he's just gone, without even answering the question he prompted Nephi to ask.  This becomes even more bizarre when Smith is forced to bring in an angel to fulfill the same Q&A role the spirit was fulfilling but a few verses before, using exactly the same style and words.  Why did he need to switch out an angel for the spirit?  Why did he describe the spirit's appearance and manner if he was just going to vanish in literally the very next verse?  I have no idea.

5. The Most Beautiful Virgin

In the Bible, Mary, like most characters, gets no physical description.  We are not even told her age.  All we know is she was a virgin residing in Nazareth and she was (very seriously) engaged to a man named Joseph, who was a carpenter.  She is never said to have been particularly attractive.  She seems, by all accounts, a fairly average young woman who is faithful to her God.

In the Book of Mormon, however, Mary is a glamour queen.  She is described as "exceedingly fair and white" (11:13) and "most beautiful and fair above all other virgins" (11:15).  It seems Mary was the ancient equivalent of Jennifer Lawrence (this years top pick from AskMen's Top 99 Women--don't ask me what their deciding factors were, I just looked it up 'cause I needed a celebrity name to pin to "most beautiful woman in the world"--which is essentially what Mary's being called here).

The irony here is that the chapter presents this in the context of the angel saying this is "the condescension of God."  Really?  What condescension?  Sure, it's plenty condescending for God to become a man (at least, in mainline Christian theology it is; in Mormon theology, he was a man just like us to start with, so what's the big deal?), but it's a bit undermined when you throw in there (twice, because Smith has to repeat everything) that Christ was born of the hottest woman on Earth in her day, possibly the hottest woman in all history.  I don't know about you, but my mom has never been on AskMen's Top 99 Women.  Poor Jesus, though: his mom was a supermodel.  How condescending of him!  How good of him to come down to our level!  I bet his dad was Rockefeller, too.

6. Interrupting Interpretation

Throughout chapters 11 and 12, there are interpretations of the vision Lehi saw in chapter 8.  These are the same interpretations that appeared in the notes on that chapter from the previous owner, so my thanks to them.  The problem here is that the interpretation of the vision is separated by two chapters or more from the vision itself (contrast with the Bible, where interpretations follow immediately after visions are described, as in the dreams interpreted by Joseph and Daniel, as well as too many prophetic visions to count).  A further problem is that these interpretations interrupt Nephi's own vision, interjected into the narrative of the later vision almost at random.  They break the flow and become so jarring and confusing that it is small wonder Smith finds himself repeating them a few times.

7. The Tree is the Love of God

In addition to having trouble with the placement and awkwardness of the interpretations, I still have the same trouble with their substance I had in the earlier post.  Particularly I have issue with the tree seen in the vision symbolizing God's love.  The most wonderful thing about God's love, to me, is how condescendingly proactive it is.  God's love does not wait for us to come to Him and love Him first.  Instead, God loves us first (1 John 4:19) and even went so far as to die for us when we were still His enemies (Romans 5:8).  But in the vision of Lehi, all of the representations of the love of God (the water is also said to be the love of God, even though the fountain from which it flowed is later said to be Hell...very confusing) are purely passive.  The tree just sits their, waiting for people to come to it.  They only get to enjoy God's love if they first desire to do so (that is, if they first love Him) and make great effort to obtain His love (symbolized by reaching the tree).  While this is the typical set up of religions, which picture man as courting the favor of an otherwise passive god, it is the opposite of the Bible, where an active God woos and delivers mankind.

8. "Rumors of Wars"

"Wars and rumours of wars" [original KJV spelling] is a direct quote from the Bible, Matthew 24:6 and Mark 13:7.  The passage refers to future events that Christ is telling his disciples not to be upset about.  He warns them they will hear of wars and rumors of wars.  In the context, this makes sense.  You can hear about wars directly and concretely, as Americans have heard about the war in Iraq, as Christians in 1st Century Palestine would have heard about the brutal Roman reconquest of the Jewish homeland.  But you can also hear about them vaguely, like a rumor...like most American's have heard of fighting in Sudan (most Americans do not even know where Sudan is), or like Christians in Palestine might have heard about distant reports of Picts raiding the Roman settlements in far-off Britain.

But when the Book of Mormon rips off the quote (twice, no less), it does so in a context where it no longer makes sense.  You can hear about wars, and you can hear rumors of wars.  But Nephi doesn't hear either, he is explicitly said to see these "wars and rumors of wars"--but how does one see a rumor?  It's not like anyone is reporting to him "hey, I heard way over in this place there are some people fighting a war."  No actual rumors are involved in the making if this vision.  So, why is the phrase "wars and rumors of wars" used (again, twice)?  To me, the only answer is because Smith thought it sounded cool and Biblical and wanted to evoke a connection with the Bible by ripping it off--without realizing that plagiarizing someone else's phrases is generally more successful if you make sure they make sense in their new context first.

9. Where'd all the Evidence Go?

In chapter 12, there's a shift of focus.  Chapter 11 dealt with a (supposedly) prophetic recap of Christ's earthly ministry.  It's rather unremarkable when viewed as a summary that any Christian might put together in five minutes.  It appears very, very odd if one tries to view it as an ancient Jewish prophecy, as it just spells out all the spoilers right there (as I touched on when discussing Lehi's supposed Messianic prophecy), something actual prophesy never does.

In chapter 12, the focus shifts to the future of Nephi's descendants and those of his brothers.  No longer content with giving spoilers for the New Testament, Smith proceeds to give them for the Book of Mormon itself, with the same suspiciously-specific-prophecy style.

But there is another problem here.  In chapter 12, the descendants of the sons of Lehi settle the New World ("the land of promise").  They multiply, such that they are "multitudes of people, yea, even as it were in number as many as the sand of the sea."  They gather together and fight many wars.  They live for many generations.  They build "many cities, yea, even that I did not number them."  They experience a great cataclysm, which seems to consist of lightning and an earthquake, which destroys "many" of the cities.  Nevertheless, those who survive remain "multitudes" and live on for several generations of peace before further wars come and Nephi's descendants are completely exterminated.

This brings me to the problem: where is the evidence for all this?  You have an innumerable host of people building an uncountable number of cities and inhabiting them for generations.  You have all kinds of wars fought back and forth, you have a massive earthquake, more generations of living, and more war.  All of these things should leave traces in the archaeological record.  Certainly, Pre-Colombian Indian civilizations left plenty of evidence from which we could piece together their history, even though there were only 50 million of them spread out over both continents.  But this history is not the history the Book of Mormon recounts.  If the Book of Mormon is true, where is the evidence of its history?  It should be extremely extensive, given the descriptions in this chapter (an innumerable host of people who build countless cities and spend a great deal of time forging weapons with which to kill each other simply do not vanish without a trace).  I feel that, as I read further and find exactly what these civilizations where supposedly like, I will probably find this problem becoming more and more insurmountable.

And if the Book of Mormon's history isn't true, how can it's "spiritual truths" be relied upon either?

10. Got One Thing Right

In 12:11, the New-World disciples of Christ (don't ask, I suspect these shenanigans will be explored and mis-explained later) are said to be "righteous forever; for because of their faith in the Lamb of God their garments are made white in his blood."  Aside from badly needing a pair of commas, this statement is essentially correct, at least at face value.  According to the Bible, we are saved "by grace through faith."  However, given the emphasis on the role of man in salvation that the earlier vision made clear, I'm afraid I'll find out later that this "faith" is much more so a work in the Book of Mormon, than (as in the Bible) a "gift of God."

11. The Race Card

I hear this has been officially disavowed, but I don't see another way to read the passage, honestly.  It seems like Smith is saying white people are good and black people are evil.  Back in chapter eleven, Mary is described as "white" and "fair."  Obviously, she is good, but this would not be alone enough to lend credence to the idea.  What really does it for me is how, at the end of chapter 12, the remaining population "dwindles in unbelief" and descends into wickedness, resulting in them becoming a "dark" people.

I might try to overlook this, or explain it away as some unfortunately-racially misintepreted symbolism, but how would people have read it in Smith's day, honestly?  In the 1830s, the Civil War was on the horizon and slavers were justifying the abuse of the African-American people because their black skin was "the mark of Cain" from Genesis 4.  It makes absolutely no sense (all of Cain's descendants died in Noah's flood), but this kind of religiously-justified racism was preached from pulpits all over America.  The idea of a fair-skinned (almost albino) Mary contrasting with a people who's skin darkens after they forsake God is right in step with these racial attitudes.  If Smith did not want to communicate this, if he was translating and the idea of race being caused by sin wasn't in the original text, he should have taken pains to avoid it.  He didn't.  To me, that says that he wanted to say it.  Certainly, the idea of Indians being a race so cursed with sin that their skin had darkened would help sooth any guilt his American listeners might feel about their nation's continued abuses of the Indian peoples.

But how does it compare with the Bible?  The Bible, I think, has only one reference to skin color, where a prophet makes a point by asking if a leopard can change his spots, or an Etheopian his skintone.  There is no implication that people of a darker complexion are more evil or people of a lighter complexion are more good.  In fact, the Bible does several things to undermine this understanding of race, by showing in Genesis that all races spring from a common ancestor in the not-so-distant past, and by declaring in Galatians that all are one in Christ, even people of different races (using Jews and Greeks as an example, since they hated each other and the Jews considered them unclean).  But the Book of Mormon seems to establish it.  In my mind, that's another reason why it doesn't measure up when compared to the Bible.