Showing posts with label wise words. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wise words. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Judgment Continued


 I knew I could count on you people. My insanely wise friend Collette even resurrected her blog in order to respond to my questions, so you should probably go read what she said.

 The talk from Elder Oaks that Bryce referred me to was very enlightening as well, so if you're interested in this subject, it's definitely worth a read.

And lastly, if you're interested but shorter on time, here are some snippets from the talk that I found most helpful.

"I have been puzzled that some scriptures command us not to judge and others instruct us that we should judge and even tell us how to do it. But as I have studied these passages I have become convinced that these seemingly contradictory directions are consistent when we view them with the perspective of eternity. The key is to understand that there are two kinds of judging: final judgments, which we are forbidden to make, and intermediate judgments, which we are directed to make, but upon righteous principles.

Since mortals cannot suppose that they will be acting as final judges at that future, sacred time, why did the Savior command that we not judge final judgments? I believe this commandment was given because we presume to make final judgments whenever we proclaim that any particular person is going to hell (or to heaven) for a particular act or as of a particular time. When we do this—and there is great temptation to do so—we hurt ourselves and the person we pretend to judge.

The Prophet Joseph Smith said: “While one portion of the human race is judging and condemning the other without mercy, the Great Parent of the universe looks upon the whole of the human family with a fatherly care and paternal regard; … He holds the reins of judgment in His hands; He is a wise Lawgiver, and will judge all men, … ‘not according to what they have not, but according to what they have,’ those who have lived without law, will be judged without law, and those who have a law, will be judged by that law”.

Even the Savior, during His mortal ministry, refrained from making final judgments. We see this in the account of the woman taken in adultery. After the crowd who intended to stone her had departed, Jesus asked her about her accusers. “Hath no man condemned thee?” (John 8:10). When she answered no, Jesus declared, “Neither do I condemn thee: go, and sin no more” (John 8:11). In this context the word condemn apparently refers to the final judgment (see John 3:17).

The Lord obviously did not justify the woman’s sin. He simply told her that He did not condemn her—that is, He would not pass final judgment on her at that time.


We must, of course, make judgments every day in the exercise of our moral agency, but we must be careful that our judgments of people are intermediate and not final. Thus, our Savior’s teachings contain many commandments we cannot keep without making intermediate judgments of people: “Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine” (Matt. 7:6); “Beware of false prophets. … Ye shall know them by their fruits” (Matt. 7:15–16); and “Go ye out from among the wicked” (D&C 38:42).

First, a righteous judgment must, by definition, be intermediate. It will refrain from declaring that a person has been assured of exaltation or from dismissing a person as being irrevocably bound for hellfire. It will refrain from declaring that a person has forfeited all opportunity for exaltation or even all opportunity for a useful role in the work of the Lord. The gospel is a gospel of hope, and none of us is authorized to deny the power of the Atonement to bring about a cleansing of individual sins, forgiveness, and a reformation of life on appropriate conditions.

Second, a righteous judgment will be guided by the Spirit of the Lord, not by anger, revenge, jealousy, or self-interest.


Third, to be righteous, an intermediate judgment must be within our stewardship. We should not presume to exercise and act upon judgments that are outside our personal responsibilities. Some time ago I attended an adult Sunday School class in a small town in Utah. The subject was the sacrament, and the class was being taught by the bishop. During class discussion a member asked, “What if you see an unworthy person partaking of the sacrament? What do you do?” The bishop answered, “You do nothing. I may need to do something.” That wise answer illustrates my point about stewardship in judging.

Fourth, we should, if possible, refrain from judging until we have adequate knowledge of the facts. In an essay titled “Sitting in the Seat of Judgment,” the great essayist William George Jordan reminded us that character cannot be judged as dress goods—by viewing a sample yard to represent a whole bolt of cloth (see The Crown of Individuality [1909], 101–5).
In another essay he wrote: “There is but one quality necessary for the perfect understanding of character, one quality that, if man have it, he may dare to judge—that is, omniscience. Most people study character as a proofreader pores over a great poem: his ears are dulled to the majesty and music of the lines, his eyes are darkened to the magic imagination of the genius of the author; that proofreader is busy watching for an inverted comma, a misspacing, or a wrong font letter. He has an eye trained for the imperfections, the weaknesses. …

“We do not need to judge nearly so much as we think we do. This is the age of snap judgments. … [We need] the courage to say, ‘I don’t know. I am waiting further evidence. I must hear both sides of the question.’ It is this suspended judgment that is the supreme form of charity”.

A fifth principle of a righteous intermediate judgment is that whenever possible we will refrain from judging people and only judge situations. This is essential whenever we attempt to act upon different standards than others with whom we must associate—at home, at work, or in the community. We can set and act upon high standards for ourselves or our homes without condemning those who do otherwise.

In a BYU devotional address, Professor Catherine Corman Parry gave a memorable scriptural illustration of the consequences of judging by the wrong standards. The scripture is familiar. 

Martha received Jesus into her house and worked to provide for Him while her sister Mary sat at Jesus’ feet and heard His words.

“But Martha was cumbered about much serving, and came to him, and said, Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve alone? bid her therefore that she help me.

“And Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things:

“But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her” (Luke 10:40–42).

Professor Parry said: “The Lord acknowledges Martha’s care: ‘Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things’ (Luke 10:41). Then he delivers the gentle but clear rebuke. But the rebuke would not have come had Martha not prompted it. The Lord did not go into the kitchen and tell Martha to stop cooking and come listen. Apparently he was content to let her serve him however she cared to, until she judged another person’s service: ‘Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve alone? bid her therefore that she help me’ (Luke 10:40). Martha’s self-importance, expressed through her judgment of her sister, occasioned the Lord’s rebuke, not her busyness with the meal”.

“… While there are many things we must make judgments about, the sins of another or the state of our own souls in comparison to others seems not to be among them. … Our own sins, no matter how few or seemingly insignificant, disqualify us as judges of other people’s sins” 

Monday, August 22, 2011


"Years ago I preferred clever people.
There was a joy in beholding a mind bearing thoughts quickly translated into words, or ideas expressed in a new way. I find now that my taste has changed. Verbal fireworks often bore me. They seem motivated by self-assertion and self-display. I now prefer another type of person; one who is considerate, understanding of others, careful not to break down another person’s self-respect. My preferred person today is one who is always aware of the needs of others, or their pain and fear and unhappiness, and their search for self-respect. I once liked clever people. Now I like good people."


-Solomon Freehof


So that's one of my favorite quotes. Whenever I get caught up in the vicious cycle of trying to be clever/funny --> not being that clever/funny --> wounded self-esteem cause I'm not that clever/funny --> trying to save flagging self-esteem by trying harder to be clever/funny, I like to fall back on this quote to remember the kind of person I really want to be. I do still enjoy clever people very much, and I think they occupy a special place in the world. But I also believe the world at this point could probably use more good people.


And the best part is, I think it's much easier to be good. It feels more within my reach.






Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Love Is Not Blind-- It Is Bound


Special thanks goes to my friend Steph for recommending this talk to me. As soon as I heard the title I knew I would love it, and I did. I'm going to curb the desire to hash out the majority of my thoughts on the subject, as they are still in progress. But I will say that my own progression in relation to the gospel has followed a similar trajectory to the one outlined in this talk, so I appreciated seeing it addressed by elder Hafen, especially with such astute insight.

"The fundamental teachings of the restored gospel are potent, clear and unambiguous; but it is possible, on occasion, to encounter some ambiguity even in studying the scriptures... Even though God has given us correct principles by which we are to govern ourselves, it is not always easy to apply them to particular situations in our lives. "

No it is not easy, but it is, perhaps, the substance of what this earth life is all about. I would like to assert that it is through this uncertainty, and our continual efforts to apply the gospel to sometimes ambiguous situations, that we accomplish the majority of our growth. To always be striving, reaching, seeking to bridge the gap between what is and what should be - I think this is maybe a good thing to be. Not forever of course, but maybe just for now, while we transition our tastes from less milk to more meat.

Thoughts?

Monday, March 7, 2011

What They Didn't Teach You in Sunday School

Please pardon the brief interruption in my LTLYM series, but I can't afford to have anyone left in the dark about this particular truth any longer. What truth am I so conspiratorially hinting at? The truth about humility.

Ok, qualifier, maybe it was just me. All I know is that I didn't really understand humility very well until...erm, recently. To me, the process of being humbled appeared to be a rather peaceful thing. You're prideful, something causes you to recognize your pridefulness, you quietly chide yourself and strive to knock it off. Or maybe someone calls you out on your pridefulness, in which case there's some embarrassment thrown in. Either way, it's a calm procedure.

Not so! The truth is that being humbled hurts. It hurts like heck. It is like the jagged, metal edge of your will scraping up against the equally jagged will of the Lord, with sparks flying and horrid nails-on-the-chalkboard sounds emitting and absolutely no progress being made. Or here's another metaphor: How about a dogfight between your will and the Lord's, except the Lord is an Irish Wolfhound and you're a Pomeranian. Obviously you're going to lose eventually, but you're a stubborn little pom and won't give up without a fight. It's very violent. Blood is drawn. Limbs are yanked and crushed. But still you fight on, because this is your will we're talking about! Deep down you know it is the most important thing you possess, and more importantly, the only thing you really have control over. Certainly you're not going to give up something like that so easily.



But the hard truth is that if we want to become "new creatures in Christ", as Clive puts it, then the will must be killed. That feisty little animal inside of us that represents everything we desire and everything we hope for - it has to go. These are the conditions that have always been set out for us. We are promised that if we give Him everything; that is, absolutely everything, He will throw out this old decrepit creature of ours and replace it with a new one, one that is of a different and a far better quality than anything we can now comprehend.

Clive obviously knew all this, and said it much more eloquently than I can:

Give up your self, and you will find your real self. Lose your life and you will save it. Submit to death, death of your ambitions and favourite wishes every day and death of your whole body in the end: submit with every fibre of your being and you will find eternal life. Keep back nothing. Nothing that you have not given away will ever be really yours. Nothing in you that has not died will ever be raised from the dead. Look for yourself and you will find in the long run only hatred, loneliness, despair, rage, ruin, and decay. But look for Christ and you will find Him, and with him everything else thrown in.


So, that was pretty much all I wanted to say. I have felt my own animal slowly dying lately, and it hasn't been pretty. But I have hope that I can kill it yet. And I recognize that this animal of mine tends to come back in all sorts of yappy reincarnations, which is why I must always be fighting it. So, yeah. Feeling pretty confident that I'm going to be living a full 70+ years cause I'm afraid it's going to take about that long to kill this creature once and for all.





To end:

So it is that real, personal sacrifice never was placing an animal on the altar. Instead, it is a willingness to put the animal in us upon the altar and letting it be consumed! Such is the “sacrifice unto the Lord … of a broken heart and a contrite spirit,” (D&C 59:8), a prerequisite to taking up the cross, while giving “away all [our] sins” in order to “know God” (Alma 22:18) for the denial of self precedes the full acceptance of Him.

Elder Maxwell, everybody.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Faith, Reason, Knowledge, and Truth, and Brazilian Buffet

Ok, I know I've been building you up to this epic Nat-like post about Smith's, but frankly there is no time for that these days. Don't worry, it's coming! (read: it's probably never coming) In the meantime, read this amazing speech by a retired BYU psych professor. If you think you know what faith is, think again.




And cause I know some of you are visual learners, unrelated picture of me at Tucano's.



(see that face I'm making? That's how I feel about this speech. Boom, related)

Sunday, July 11, 2010

You said it, sister

"What are men to rocks and mountains?"

--Mary Bennet, Pride and Prejudice




I need to go hike this soon.

Monday, May 31, 2010

More wise words from Andrew Solomon

"People around depressives expect them to get themselves together: our society has little room in it for moping. Spouses, parents, children, and friends are all subject to being brought down themselves, and they do not want to be close to measureless pain. No one can do anything but beg for help (if he can do even that) at the lowest depths of a major depression, but once the help is provided, it must also be accepted. We would all like Prozac to do it for us, but in my experience, Prozac doesn't do it unless we help it along. Listen to the people who love you. Believe that they are worth living for even when you don't believe it. Seek out the memories depression takes away and project them into the future. Be brave; be strong; take your pills. Exercise because it's good for you even if every step weighs a thousand pounds. Eat when food itself disgusts you. Reason with yourself when you have lost your reason. These fortune-cookie admonitions sound pat, but the surest way out of depression is to dislike it and not to let yourself grow accustomed to it. Block out the terrible thoughts that invade your mind."

Sunday, May 30, 2010


"Patience is a willingness, in a sense, to watch the unfolding purposes of God with a sense of wonder and awe, rather than pacing up and down within the cell of our circumstance. Put another way, too much anxious opening of the oven door and the cake falls instead of rising. So it is with us. If we are always selfishly taking our temperature to see if we are happy, we will not be."

Love love love this talk!

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

They say that money can't buy happiness. But money can buy ice cream, and I'm not ready to live in a world where there's a difference.

Thanks for your prayers, folks. I ran, I conquered, and I certainly couldn't have done it without my fabulous fan club. It was great to see you, parents! Cheering loved ones along the course really makes all the difference. But holy cow, that hurt. I am having serious doubts as to the value of this masochistic habit I'm developing.

Finals are over, mazel tov! I love mint oreos! Boys still make me sad! But, T-minus one week until Carol and myself hit the high seas for our super happy fun rad Mexican cruise! Man, I didn't realize it until Jack brought it up, but things really do even out.

Here's some wise words from our pal Rainer Maria Rilke:

People have (with the help of conventions) oriented all their solutions toward the easy and toward the easiest side of the easy; but it is clear that we must hold to that which is difficult; everything alive holds to it…we know little, but that we must hold to what is difficult is a certainty that will not forsake us; it is good to be solitary, for solitude is difficult; that something is difficult must be a reason the more for us to do it.

Friday, February 26, 2010

Another Great Talk

"In considering such beauty of the “at-one-ment” in that first Easter season, we are reminded that this relationship between Christ and His Father is one of the sweetest and most moving themes running through the Savior’s ministry. Jesus’ entire being, His complete purpose and delight, were centered in pleasing His Father and obeying His will. Of Him He seemed always to be thinking; to Him He seemed always to be praying. Unlike us, He needed no crisis, no discouraging shift in events to direct His hopes heavenward. He was already instinctively, longingly looking that way."

--Jeffrey R. Holland, The Hands of the Fathers

Friday, November 27, 2009

more from The Four Loves. How does Clive be so awesome?

"In words which can still bring tears to my eyes, St. Augustine describes the desolation in which the death of his friend Nebridius plunged him (Confession IV, 10). Then he draws a moral. This is what comes, he says, of giving one's heart to anything but God. All human beings pass away. Do not let your happiness depend on something you may lose. If love is to be a blessing, not a misery, it must be for the only Beloved who will never pass away.

Or course, this is excellent sense. Don't put your goods in a leaky vessel. Don't spend too much on a house you may be turned out of. And there is no man alive who responds more naturally than I do to such canny maxims. I am a safety-first creature. Of all arguments against love none makes so strong an appeal to my nature as "Careful! This might lead you to suffering."

To my nature, my temperament, yes. Not to my conscience. When I respond to that appeal I seem to myself to be a thousand miles away from Christ. If I am sure of anything I am sure that His teaching was never meant to confirm my congenital preference for safe investments and limited liabilities. I doubt whether there is anything in me that pleases Him less. And who could conceivably begin to love God on such a prudential ground -- because the security (so to speak) is better? Who could even include it among the grounds for loving? Would you choose a wife or a Friend -- if it comes to that, would you choose a dog -- in this spirit? One must be outside the world of love, of all loves, before one thus calculates."

Sunday, November 22, 2009

C.S. Wisdom


Long time no post, sorry loyal fans. I struggle determining which things in my life are post-worthy, and when I think I've found something I am usually met with a sudden blast of sheepish humility, so then I just forget it and go eat ice cream instead. Given that this is the pattern, it would certainly appear that the whole blog thing is not for me.

Until I was thumbing through my favorite work of C.S. Lewis the other day, The Four Loves, and was reacquainted with this little gem:

"Christ did not teach and suffer that we might become, even in the natural loves, more careful of our own happiness. If a man is not uncalculating towards the earthly beloveds whom he has seen, he is none the more likely to be so towards God whom he has not. We shall draw nearer to God not by trying to avoid the sufferings inherent in all loves, but by accepting them and offering them to Him; throwing away all defensive armour. If our hearts need to be broken, and if He chooses this as the way in which they should break, so be it." pg. 92

Well shoot, Clive, you sure know how to speak to my soul. I'm sorry to say that my cursory experiences in this realm have left me somewhat, probably unduly, jaded, and rife with all sorts of mental and emotional armour. Clive brings me back to what it's all about.

I should still keep some armour though, right? You can't go out into that big, scary dating world with just a loin cloth, now, can you? (Pardon the unsettling image)

I have much to learn.