Rules

Stake conference this weekend was magnificent. A real treat. Stories were uncovered at great personal expense to reveal the lightness that comes from peace and hope. This future was connected to the Gospel of Christ time and time again, without need of coercion or force. Out of it all I received a poem and a law.

The poem is one I've wanted to write for over a year now.  The last two lines are not what I want though, so I'll post it someday later.

The law was...well...plagiarized.
We have the famed Golden Rule: do unto others as you would have them do unto you. (A great way to live and learn. It helps you put yourself in others' shoes)
The lesser law is the Silver Rule: do unto others as others do unto you. (At least you come out even)
The Copper Rule: do unto others as you feel they deserve. (You do not want to be the judge of what someone deserves. You do not want that responsibility. It will break you)
And the Platinum Rule (which is really what started everything else): do unto others as you want God to do unto you.

Compliments

I have never been very good at accepting praise.  It really bothers my parents.  I imagine it might bother the Lord too.  I do not recognize my part in great things because I see myself as replaceable.  Anyone else could do what I do and probably much better.  But occasionally I receive a compliment so heartfelt, undeserving, and spontaneous, a compliment relying upon no situation or stimulus but only a pure desire for some to appreciate me, that I am floored.

A few months ago, I was talking with my roommate and he just exclaimed that he appreciated how much I enjoy life.  He went on to explain how he loved that even if I do not understand a topic I am willing to talk about it.  And more than talk about, I am excited to talk about it.  He expressed that he feels if I understand a subject then I am excited to discuss it and if I do not know much or anything about a subject then I seem pleased to be taught.  He thanked me for asking good questions and showing interest in him.  I had never thought of myself that way.

Today, a lovely young lady (who is engaged to a different roommate) told me that she had always wanted to go on a date with me.  This was immediately after I had asked her to attend a show with me (at which her fiancee is working).  I smiled.  Inside too.

A companion from my mission told me that he loves seeing me on campus because it always makes him smile.  It was just a random message on facebook with no obvious reason.

A girl I dance with expressing thanks for having me as a partner this semester.

A long-lost friend posting a message on my blog.

A note on my door from a friend in my ward saying thanks.

Nothing big.  Nothing fancy.  Just true gratitude for me.  It is strangely humbling.
What is the greatest compliment you have received?  Who will you thank next?

Flashmobs and a Hipster Defense

Friends, it has been far too long.

For the first time in my life I find myself in defense of hipster ideology.  I just heard about a "flash mob" performed at the BYU vs Gonzaga game.  A video of the event is below.  It was a great idea.  It was executed well.  It was entertaining.  It was not a flash mob.

A flash mob is an organized group performing a sudden and seemingly unplanned event that takes non-participants by surprise and then disappears just as suddenly.  This was an organized group.  They performed together.  They entertained others.  But the dance was no secret to those not participating; it has been widely advertised.  Also, the true magic to a flash mob is that no one outside the mob can identify the leader.  And participants are little more than strangers.  Random people come together, do something in united chaos, and leave.

This noble and beautiful event was a spirit section.  Those involved in the dance did exactly what cheerleaders try to get the spectators to do every game.  They jumped and hollered and had a great time.  They pumped up the players and showed their support for their team.  It was marvelous.  They did a fantastic job.

Labeling something a flash mob has now become a fad.  Flash mobs are cool so everyone has to do one (why I feel in defense of hipsters.  I finally found something that lost a bit of its "coolness" by becoming too mainstream...).  There is no shame in proper names!  Reserve flash mobs for flash mobs.  Call a spirit section a spirit section or student body section or awesome people who planned out a really neat dance to show their support for the team.  Don't reuse words to provide an unnecessary connotation.  Otherwise you'll start sounding like a maverick.

BYU vs Gonzaga Spirit Section

Embarassing Day

 First, a slight rant against a religion class.  On my final I was asked a question about my study habits. Through the semester our teacher posted several videos online of apostles speaking about New Testament doctrine, stories, and characters.  The last question of the final (worth 12 points out of 200 so 6% of the test) asked how many of the videos did I watch through the semester.  I have watched maybe half a dozen.  I couldn't play them on my computer.  What I saw was information I knew and mostly came from General Conferences of the past.  I answered honestly knowing I'd lose 11 points.  I do not know why I answered honestly.  I'm not even glad I did.  I'm frustrated that my study habits were being questioned.  The test is to prove acquisition of knowledge not how it was obtained.  The test shows understanding of a subject not how often it has been studied.  The test is to permit passage to a higher difficulty in the subject not show the diligence in work to get there.

Sorry friends, I have one more thing.  I do not like BYU's grading system.  It produces what appears to be an influx of B students.  I have classes that require a 94% to get an A in them.  Maybe that is the standard we should be graded on.  But I've shot for a 90% my whole life.  Well, a 92% in case I mess up on a final.  So I'm getting an A- in many of my classes.  This would appear as a 4.0 at NAU and at many other universities I'm sure, but here it appears as a 3.75 (which is not even high enough for most scholarships mind you).  3.75 came from having a few B's, not by having straight A's.  Also frustrating, but something I'm slowly caring less about.

Honestly, today might be the most embarrassing I've had in a very long time.  I just missed my Arabic final.  All week I've been telling myself 2 to 5, that's my last final, Friday from 2 to 5.  Well, it was actually 11 to 2 today, which is what I wrote down in my planner.  But why would I check that when I knew it was from 2 to 5...  On my way to the final I ran into a guy from the class riding away.  I asked where he was going.  So I even found out I had completely missed it before walking into the class in front of everyone.  Instead I got to quietly wait around the corner, talk to my professor, and figure things out.  What this means is an answer to a prayer, honestly.  I've been wondering a lot if I should retake Arabic 101.  I love the language and I want to be good at it.  I want to understand this stuff but it never clicked this semester.  If I had gotten a C in the class I probably would have tucked my tail and kept going, never catching up.  But this forces me to retake the class.  I failed.  Outright.  First F in a class of my life.  But when I retake it I'll be able to focus on what isn't clicking.  I can learn the names of letters, get better at numbers, do all the homework, memorize more, and speak more clearly.  It is not what I would have said I wanted (a good grade) but it is what I want (to really understand Arabic).  Hey, life is good.

I'm the King of New York!

Well, not really, but I do wish.  On that note though, Newsies is set to hit the Broadway in a few months.  This might be one of the few events I've honestly waited the majority of my life to happen.  It's weird.

New York was glorious.  Such an adventure.  Just getting there was fun.  I was walking to the bus and was early (6:30 pm).  A bus was leaving right when I walked up, but that was no big deal because the had planned on was a little later.  Except a little later became a lot later because it was rather late.  Which made me late for my train.  Which made me late for my second bus.  Barely late.  Like, I can see the bus I need to get on pulling into the parking lot as the train is slowing down late (9 pm).  So I had to take a taxi instead because no more buses ran that night.  My cabbie is a Sudanese refuge who moved to Salt Lake City at the turn of the millennium.  Crazy.  Awesome too.  Good man.  I get to the airport and find I can't check in my luggage because it is too late.  Well, that's fine because my flight isn't until 5:30 am the next day.  I make a call though to see when they open up to check baggage.  I was told 5 am.  Thirty minutes to get through security and get to my gate?  Sounded like an adventure.  It ends up they opened at around 4:30 am so it worked out fine.  But I slept in the airport that night.  Not too bad actually.

New York is so neat.  I met up with JJ and Kelli at the baggage claim and then we traveled to Grand Central Station (we stayed in a hotel over it, the Hyatt).  The graffiti in Queens is quite superb.  Not only the symbols and designs but locations.  And many of them were advertising which I think is neat.

We ate so much food.  It was nice to be full.  And we sang so much.  My voice is not used to singing for four hours straight.  We sang under the direction of John Rutter (you would probably recognize his music.  He was commissioned to write one of the songs for the Royal Wedding in England this last summer).  So, I had six songs to practice before arriving in New York.  We ended up performing more than twice that many.  None of them were too difficult, but I've never had to use sight reading types so desperately.  Thank you Mr. Manz.  And the concert was just a delight to be in.  The orchestra and the power of the music and the audience, it was all great.  Carnegie Hall is unlike any other performing space I've been in.  The wings are walled off so they don't mess up your acoustics.  Also, there is also no light above the stage so that there is less open space to take away from the acoustics.  Which would make quick entrances and lighting a nightmare.  But this is Carnegie Hall, where the audience is in no rush to be entertained and they aren't here for dancing or acting.  The sound is all that matters and the hall delivers.

And we traveled all over the place.  We saw Follies on Broadway.  Lovely show.  It is by Sondheim so the emphasis is on social commentary through the music, which is almost an overwhelming focus.  We went to the Bodies exhibit (which was shorter than I was expecting).  It was neat to see the real parts of the body connecting and doing their thing.   I do like New York pizza.  We went on a river cruise after the concert.  When we got to the pier and things looked familiar, but I didn't know why.  Well, that was true until we walked up the ramp onto the boat.  It was the exact same company, the exact same pier, and the exact same ship I had been on for the exact same river cruise in 2005 with Alyssa Fabia while in New York for the People to People conference.  Ridiculous!  Other neat places were the Manhattan Temple (I got to participate in sealings for the first time!  Natalie-the-Elder and I really wanted to go, so we just made it happen), Battery Park, Central Park (so big, so varied, and so cool.  There was a musical group that just started playing and some roller-skating group came up and started dancing with them.  Fun to watch), the Brooklyn Bridge, and Grand Central Station.  I love New York.  It has such a feel to it.  A real pulse.  A life unlike any other.  The variety is so wonderful.  One of my favorite moments was watching a Hasidic Jew being helped by a Sikh at a food stand (Sikhs are the ones who wear the turbans and are often mistaken for Arabs).  It just seemed so right and good.

Zion

I am waiting until it's time to go to the bus stop for New York.

Zion seemed to come up a lot this last week.  Sunday's Best gathered to hold a Thanksgiving Potluck.  It was magnificent!  The turkey was worth the wait, Japanese curry was a treat, pie and cobbler, green beans, fantastic mashed potatoes, and more than enough for everyone.  Then we talked on Zion.  What is it?  Will we see it?  Is it really to be seen?  Where will it be?  What will it do?

The tenth article of faith was quoted, "We believe in the literal gathering of Israel and in the restoration of the Ten Tribes; that Zion (the New Jerusalem) will be built upon the American continent; that Christ will reign personally upon the earth; and, that the earth will be renewed and receive its paradisiacal glory."  Is this a timeline?  If it is then Zion will form before Christ comes and after the gathering the lost tribes.  It was mentioned by separate sources that ten of the tribes have been identified in Mongolia and in Russia (not surprising as that is the East of Jerusalem.  Oh, a shout out to the Hmongs, they claim that they return to Mongolia, the land of their fathers, when the pass away).  Or what if the gathering is what incites Zion to start forming a physical location?  Or what if the gathering is by tribe, each claiming its own land but all tribes being united in heart and mind?  Will we call Zion by its name before Christ comes, will we recognize it for what it is while we live in it?

And what does being of one heart and one mind mean?  I pondered that a lot with my companions.  I imagine being of one heart means having the same desires.  And when it was just me with my companion then I felt being of one mind meant having the same methods to reach our goals.  But to apply to a community that feels exclusive.  The gospel is not a funnel.  We do not all become the same as we come closer to Christ and Heavenly Father.  There are certain things that move us forward but has God treated all His children the same when they make mistakes?  No, because He knows as long as we are alive we can change so He gives each of us our best situation to succeed.  He needs diversity and so will Zion.

We were talking about the Millenium during priesthood earlier that day.  The two subjects go together well.  We were talking about Satan during those thousand years.  He will be bound.  Why?  Because of us?  Christ will not come and suddenly everyone will be converted to His kingdom.  Every knee shall bow and every tongue confess, but that can simply mean they accept Him as the best leader for the moment.  They do not have to follow Him, especially not with their hearts.  Think of when Christ came to the Americas.  It took a long time before everyone agreed to the new order.  So the opportunity to sin will still be open to all.

Revelation reports that before Christ comes there will be a great battle.  I imagine it might be fought between Zion and those of the Sign of the Beast.  What that sign will be I don't know.  But those without the sign will be denied food, shelter, medicine, and safety.  What will designate who gets to have a sign or not?  I don't know.  But they'll be different so they will be sent away.  Maybe they'll think differently and hold protests asking that everyone be let into the cities.  Maybe they'll look different and want to not shave their armpits.  Maybe they'll dream differently.  Maybe they'll love differently.  I do not know why they'll be rejected.  But I do know that they'll be welcome in Zion.  That will be our duty, protecting the rejected of society.  Imagine that.  We, as a church and people, will be responsible for accepting the rejects: the gays, the extremists, the hippies, those who occupy Wall Street, the high school drop outs, the multi-racial, the neo-nazis, the bald, the handicapped, and everyone else who doesn't fit in (not that these groups do not fit in, but they are groups historically separated by the mainstream).  Are you ready for that?  Could you be one of the founders of Zion?  And to make it more strenuous, we won't turn them away if they do not believe as we do.  We will accept them without reservation.  If they seek to destroy us, our peace, our families, our religion, or our God we might turn them away.  We might.  I hope we won't though.  As long as they live in peace we will never turn them away, even if they hate us for helping.  Are you ready?

Prayer

Sunday was magnificent.  Testimony meetings are so funny because everyone gets maybe a minute to share how they feel and it still goes over.  I really appreciate that about our bishop, I can see him watching the clock and worried about time but he never rushes or denies anyone.  And he is very perceptive.

One of the lessons was on prayer.  We talked about several of the scriptural stories that are great examples of prayer can and should be: Enos, Nephi, Alma, Paul, etc.  Then we heard an unconventional dialogue between a man praying and God's real-time responses.  It was good because of how accurate it was so often.  I received a neat realization.  When I give a blessing I ask the recipient what they want, what they need, what troubles they are having lately.  I ask the Lord to guide me in what to say.  I make sure I'm worthy.  I fast in preparation when I can.  I am solemn and take all the time I need.  Afterwards I usually try to talk to person about how they feel and if they have any questions.  When I receive a blessing I record what I'm supposed to do and what has been promised.

What is the difference between prayer and a blessing? The more I've thought about it the closer they seem.  I should be asking myself what I want and need.  I should be thinking over the previous day and the next several to see any trials occurring and mercies along the way.  I should ask the Lord to help me know what I need and how to express it in words.  Setting aside enough time really helps.  Afterwards, listen to how I feel, if I have any more questions, and if there is anything I still need to receive and digest.  Recording it afterwards is a really good idea too.