Galileo, Galileo figaro

Two weeks. Sorry. I made myself e-mail Ambrosia and Erin Hutchinson first. Next projects: making myself finish the PrinTeam website and write letters to Carl, Parker, and Brian Davis. Oh, and getting Mitch's address for Heather. Hmmmm. Glad this is going to be a long entry, 'cause it looks like it'll be a while before the next.

So I found out that my specific calling is, instead of rotating teaching the Preach my Gospel Sunday School class, teaching every week in the ward mission leaders' meeting. It's kind of disappointing in that I can't skip up to Utah for a weekend, though I suppose I could drive from noon-ten on Friday and midnight-ten on Sunday, spending my time in Utah sleeping. Mostly, though, it's just intimidating. I attended a new member discussion a week and an half ago, and wow, some of our ward missionaries are amazing. The guy giving the conclusion to the Plan of Salvation lesson in particular was fantastic. Thinking about what I could possibly teach him humbled me enormously, and I was simply dumbstruck when I learned I'm actually in charge of teaching those who lead him. So yeah, apparently, though I'm not qualified to be a missionary, I'm qualified to teach people how to teach people how to be missionaries.

My first lesson today went rather well, though, in fact. I decided this morning that the three principal objectives in Gospel teaching are inviting the Spirit, exhorting to righteousness, and instructing in the doctrine, and upon reflection, I'm satisfied with my performance in all three areas, as well as general speaking style. I only spent about two hours seriously preparing, which generally won't be enough, but having spoken three times on preparing to share the word, I felt fairly confident and had about four times over the material I needed. Half of the dozen people in the meeting came up to compliment me afterward, which I suppose was rather expected after my self-effacing introduction, but they did seem quite sincerely impressed. I'll share the quotes I used; the rest was just transition.

"What a charge has been laid upon us to grow constantly toward eternity! None of us can assume that he has learned enough. As the door closes on one phase of life, it opens on another, where we must continue to pursue knowledge.
"Ours ought to be a ceaseless quest for truth. That truth must include spiritual and religious truth as well as secular. As we go forward with our lives and our search for truth, let us look for the good, the beautiful, the positive."
--Pres. Hinckley, "The Continuing Pursuit of Truth"

"Seek not to declare my word, but first seek to obtain my word, and then shall your tongue be loosed; then, if you desire, you shall have my Spirit and my word, yea, the power of God unto the convincing of men."
D&C 11: 21

We will be held responsible for not only what we know, but what we *could* have known had we sought knowledge diligently.
--Brother Bott, paraphrase of quotation for which I wasn't able to find an original cite. Might e-mail him.

"Scriptural understanding and great insight relative to the doctrines are valuable only insofar as they change and perfect the lives of men, only insofar as they live in the hearts of those who know them."
-–Bruce R. McConkie

"It is not enough to read the scriptures. Random reading results in reduced retention. We must search for specifics." –-L. Lionel Kendrick

"Furthermore, as to the 'manner' of people we are to become, it is clear we are to strive to become even as Jesus is. (3 Ne. 27:27; see also 2 Pet. 3:11.) If we keep His commandments, the promise is that we will receive 'truth and light' until we are 'glorified in truth and knoweth all things.' (D&C 93:28.)
"Therefore, gaining knowledge and becoming more Christlike 'are two aspects of a single process.' (C. Terry Warner, in Encyclopedia of Mormonism, 4:1490.) This process is part of being 'valiant' in our testimony of Jesus. Thus, while we are saved no faster than we gain a certain type of knowledge, it is also the case that we will gain knowledge no faster than we are saved! (See Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, p. 217.) So in our different understanding of knowledge and truth, behaving and knowing are inseparably linked."
--Neal A. Maxwell, "The Inexhaustible Gospel"

"Lest the foregoing be lightly passed over, let me pause here to point out a common error in the mind of man—that is, the tendency, when someone speaks of faithfulness or success in one thing or another, to think “me,” and when someone mentions failure or neglect, to think “them.” But I ask us all to honestly evaluate our performance in scripture study. It is a common thing to have a few passages of scripture at our disposal, floating in our minds, as it were, and thus to have the illusion that we know a great deal about the gospel. In this sense, having a little knowledge can be a problem indeed. I am convinced that each of us, at some time in our lives, must discover the scriptures for ourselves—and not just discover them once, but rediscover them again and again."
-–Spencer W. Kimball

Today was almost certainly my happiest Sabbath in recollection. I was enormously relieved to have my lesson go smoothly, and Sacrament meeting was simply incredible. Lacey Halm gave what I'm fairly confident was the best Sacrament meeting talk I've ever heard. It felt like she was teaching Primary because everything was so tied-together, but she taught many deep and abiding truths. I really wish I'd been taking notes; I'd probably quote her in my own talks if she'd let me. The guy after her spoke marvelously and very practically (as opposed to in generalities), working in a riotous extended allusion to Thunder Cats. Some guy sang an EFY-style piece in a voice like chocolate milk, after which we had one more unnotably solid speaker, followed by a Seventy who mostly just told amusing anecdotes. (Honestly, I can kind of see Kevin's point about such talks. I can't remember anything particularly spiritual other than telling us what a good bishop we have.)

Elder's Quorum was good. The lesson was unexceptional, but I sat with some ward mission leader colleagues, a wonderful reprieve from my normal feelings of alienation since the quorum split in half. Dallin Monson (who I could have sworn was named Steve Monson, leading me to try to call on Steve during my lesson, though I fortunately didn't recognize his face) did a marvelous job with the Sunday School lesson, and I got to sit with Krystal Kiene, a darling girl from my home ward heading off to Rome in a month.

The entire rest of the day was spent with the fam. I took the dogs to the park with Paige, played a little piano, and then we went to Jason and Kim's for dinner. I must reiterate the degree to which I adore them. Honestly, I doubt any cooler aunt and uncle exists. Dinner was hosebeastfully antivegetarian, but whatever. At least it was fairly tasty, if not up to Kim's usual glorious standard. I got my car back, then took Eric to Mom's, where we hung out for a bit and took Bathsheba. You know, for someone who prioritizes his family so little, I sure have good relationships with my siblings. I respect Eric, empathize with Paige, and treasure Ellery, all deeply. It's been nice having such a family-oriented Sabbath, particularly feeling so comfortable in the adult dinner-table conversation.

Sorry for the classically Bradenian entry. I know they get annoying, but today was exceptional, and I wanted to record it in exquisite detail. I'll now restrain myself to the heads of ponderings.

I got an 85% on my first logic exam. Didn't finish the most recent homework, either. It made for a rather gloomy Tuesday evening, and as I headed home, I wondered to myself whether I should mention it in here. "No," I decided, "that would go against your commitment to only mention uplifting things. Come on, stick to it." I need to teach by example, I decided, and I can't do that if I'm projecting an image of weakness and sloth. After all, when I use the priesthood, I stand in the stead of God; shouldn't I try to appear as Christ the rest of the time, as an holder thereof?

Thus I prevailed upon myself to bury doubt, to bury frailty, to bury sadness. It's essentially what society demands of men, I told myself; when women say they want "sensitive guys," they don't suggest we abandon our role as impregnable protector, but that we tell them more often how happy they make us and that we relate to their sorrows in some abstract, non-disabling way. I thrilled to note what a splendid model of psychic development it made, since we primarily learn how to be children from our mothers and how to be adults from our fathers. Thus it makes perfect sense for men to set an example of unflagging self-reliance.

So I swallowed hard and threw away what was human in me. Such was the motif of the past couple of weeks, stability bought not by self-nurture but by the impassioned declaration that, though life may suck, though I may often be depressed, it grants me no excuse for losing my determination to see it through. "Infinite patience," I termed it, and preached a gospel of resignation, of expecting unhappiness and facing life with a stiff upper lip. I suspected I was somehow denying the power of the Atonement, but I couldn't see how to get around the obvious fact that many trials aren't removed from us.

The problem, of course, being that it's impossible. None of us can perfectly emulate Christ; none of us can forever repress discouragement. So I've been trying to soften myself. To recognize that though I may have a point with my basic model of parental role exemplification, no woman can find fulfillment in pure dependence, and no man can find peace in pure stoicism. To practice human patience, enduring trials not by cold determination but by the faith that the Lord knows my need and will relieve it when best. That though Elder Maxwell's cancer wasn't cured, his suffering ended. That though the Rocky Mountains didn't kneel before the pioneers, they did reach the Salt Lake Valley. That though I may know despair, I will yet find joy. And as my father wisely pointed out, Elder Maxwell's submission to God's will doesn't mean that he stopped praying for relief.

I've been increasingly aware of the number of brilliant people in the world lately as I've started hanging out on the LiveJournal communities mock_the_stupid and grammar_nazis. It's kind of funny, but I'm now actually significantly more meek online than in person, 'cause I've made so many stupid assertions. Hanging out on Blue-Beta, however, has done infinitely more. I cannot express the level of my respect for Misaneroth, Ambrosia, Toasterover, Latro, and Smurfs. Honestly, I can barely even bring myself to talk to them, my arrogance alerts being so quickly triggered when I'm addressing those of such singular genius. And goodness, the frustration at seeing them struggle. Wanting so badly for them to have what they deserve, trying to formulate some kind of counsel, then dashing it all to bits as I see how trite and immature my words are. It makes me want to take a thousand classes in philosophy and psychology and family studies and sociology just so that some day, I'll see someone struggling and know what to say.

I, for one, am struggling fairly significantly less of late. I think it would be unwise to go into too many details too soon, but let it suffice to say that the Dark Ages, their end heralded for so long, may have finally been crushed by a last bout of the Black Death. Farewell, feudalism. May this renaissance be as glorious as I expect, free from the bickering of Greece and cruelty of Rome.