Keeping the faith

When I was a young dancer in my prime, I could leap into the air, turn around, and return to Earth without making a sound. A similar attempt at my current age of 76 would create quite a thud.

Barbara Mettler, founder and director of the Tucson Creative Dance Center where I studied and worked in the 1970s, would occasionally challenge us dancers with an exercise using the word, “now.” With every single movement, whether it be of a hand or leg or the whole body, we were to say, loudly and clearly, exhaling deeply, “now.”

The purpose of the exercise was to unite breath, body, mind and intention. In each “now” movement there was no past, no future. Just this movement. This dance. This moment. Now.

In the middle of a recent sleepless night, I thought again of those days and that exercise. I was restless, burdened by memories of how things used to be before the COVID-19 pandemic, yearning for a future beyond this terrible scourge. No matter how I tried, I was unable to center myself in the now: a safe roof over my head; air conditioning in the hot Arizona desert; a comfortable bed; the love of my life sleeping peacefully beside me.

Over and over again, the reality of the now eluded me. I paid dearly for that night. The next day, I was a grouch with a headache.

We are so accustomed to being in control, able to plan our future moments, days, years. “I will meet my friend for coffee. I will visit and hug my grandchildren. I will put in for a promotion at work. I will fly to my niece’s wedding. I will go to a bar, a dance, a party, a family reunion.”

We don’t know when we again might do these things. We may have lost our job; or we may have a job, but remain on guard to stay safe at work.

We worry about ourselves, and our health. About our loved ones. About everyone. We look back on what seemed, in comparison, a carefree past. We yearn for a carefree future.

Both the past and the future feel, at this moment, out of reach. We may rebel against current limitations rather than looking inside those limits to find the treasures hidden there. This moment simply is. And it has its gifts.

At this moment, I am outdoors on my back patio. I am sitting in a comfortable chair. I hear birdsong. I feel the warmth of the rising sun on my back. A rabbit sits below my patio, ears straight up. I am present. I am here. Now.

I open the Scriptures, exhale deeply, and enter the word. I invite you to join me:

The hour cometh, and is now (John 5:25). Do ye now believe? (John 16:32) Now I know with surety (Acts 12:11), now being made free (Romans 6:22), now I know in part (I Corinthians 13:12) now is the time to awake (Romans 13:11). Now we can breathe again (I Thessalonians 3:8). Now you are the people of God (I Peter 2:10).

Luke 15 is one chapter that almost everyone could repeat from memory, and yet it is one of those beautiful portions of Scripture which always seems to touch one’s heart and fill one’s soul with fresh joy every time we read it.

A case could be made that Jesus was talking about those who were backslidden in sin. Remember, Jesus was surrounded by the publicans and sinners, while the Pharisees and scribes were in the distance murmuring and finding fault.

Luke 15:13-14 says, “And not many days after, the younger son gathered all together, and took his journey into a far country, and there wasted his substance with riotous living. And when he had spent all, there arose a mighty famine in that land; and he began to be in want.”

Now notice what kind of famine was in the land. It was not a famine of husks; there were plenty of those. It was not a famine of swine’s flesh; there was plenty of that. But there was a famine of that which was clean and fit for a Jew to eat. Truly, there is never a famine of husks; the Devil has not had a famine for the last 2,000 years. There are always plenty of husks to feed hungry swine and there are always plenty of swine to eat.

Go where you will, you will always find plenty of the Devil’s food for a hungry soul. However, it will never satisfy.

Now, the story goes on to say that when the prodigal had wasted his substance, he went and joined himself to a citizen of that country. I do not believe for a moment that the new country had pity on this Jewish young man. I think they mocked him by offering a job to feed the swine.

Just a couple of thoughts here; have you ever considered the lack of satisfaction the world offers? This Jewish boy struggled with his new home. The new “far country” was the antithesis of his home, the sweet home that he left. He struggled with his new memories. He remembered that his father’s servants lived better than him. He struggled with his food.

The husks did not and could not satisfy him. Food, apart from The Father, lacks in proper nourishment and sustenance. He struggled with work. In his prior life, he would have tended to his father’s sheep. What a contrast to the filth, muck, and mire of the pigpen. He struggled with his testimony. He had lost everything and was left with nothing but a tattered robe on his back. The citizens of this “far country” mocked and scorned this Jewish young man.

So here is the thought for this day: Why do people not believe our testimony? We talk of a rich Father and yet we walk about with a ragged coat. We talk of joy, yet we look wretched and miserable. We talk of peace, yet we are filled with anger, worry, and anxiety. Avoid the temptation to backslide. Stay out of the Devil’s pigpen. Please, be faithful.

After the killing of George Floyd in Minneapolis on May 25, protesters filled the streets, proclaiming “No justice, no peace!”

Rightfully angry, with the image of his dying embedded in their consciousness, they were issuing a threat: Meet our demands or violence will follow.

If we take a step back from this urgent situation, we might consider another way to spell out that chant. “Know Justice, Know Peace” suggests a promise: If we know what justice really is, shalom peace will follow.

So, what is justice? In the Bible justice is often linked to righteousness. To be righteous is to be right with God, with neighbor, and with all creation. It’s the opposite of self-righteous — the attitude that nobody knows better than I.

Righteousness is based on the humility of one who listens, listens to God, to others and to creation. The righteous person respects boundaries, defends himself or herself as needed, growing in wisdom and compassion, “like (a) tree … planted by streams of water (Ps. 1:3).”

The righteous person recognizes their place in creation — not as creator but as a wonder-filled recipient, companion and caregiver to the Earth in all its magnificence.

From such righteousness flows a longing and a hunger for justice. In the little book of Amos in the Bible, the prophet spells out the meaning of justice in graphic form. The community is out of whack; the rich exploit the poor, driving them into slavery while piling on greater wealth and luxuries (2:6-7).

Amos does not mince words: “you cows of Bashan” he calls the women of wealth, as they raise their glass to ask for more wine (4:1). Judges accept bribes and push aside the rightful demands of the poor (5:12-13); religious leaders try to cover over the whole mess with elaborate festivals and shallow piety, which God “hates” (5:21); fathers and sons share the same prostitute (2:7). The spiritual and moral integrity of the nation has vanished and must be restored for justice to prevail (5:14-15).

Whew! Reading the book of Amos takes courage; it is not easy to see a nation crumbling. Justice requires rebuilding the whole community, ending economic exploitation and caring for the poor. It may not take more money; just more equality.

I recently listened to the podcast “The Hidden Brain” on NPR. Host Shankar Vedantam interviewed a psychologist by the name of Keith Payne who wrote a book called “The Psychology of Inequality.”

Payne traces the effect of income inequality and social well-being. Citing studies by other researchers, he made a startling discovery — the best way to predict homicide rates in developed countries is to analyze income equality. Countries where there is a big gap between the rich and the poor, like the United States, have higher homicide rates.

The issue is clearly illustrated in the book of Amos, written some 2,700 years ago. If we want to “know justice,” then we need to make a community to our community on many levels, and maybe even pay higher taxes for the good of our life together.

Jesus of Nazareth told his followers to wake up to “the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy” (Matthew 23:23) and when his followers shared everything in common (Acts 2:44), we caught a glimpse of what the beloved community might look like.

Service looks different for everyone. Some volunteer at soup kitchens, others read to the blind. Some share a smile everywhere they go — even behind a mask — while others gladly lend a listening ear.

No matter the form of service, it’s indisputable that serving others can lift our spirits. And many have cashed in on that certainty during the uncertain times of 2020.

Missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints have found joy through service during an atypical time, where they can’t knock on doors or share messages about Jesus Christ in the traditional fashion. They’re young women and men from all over the world, typically 18 to 24 years old, who dedicate 18 or 24 months, at their own expense, to serving and teaching about Jesus Christ.

“We can divide the Savior’s ministry into two parts: teaching and serving,” explains President Jeremy Grisel, who serves as mission president of the Church’s Arizona Tucson Mission. “Serving others in the community is a wonderful way for missionaries to fulfill their purpose and come unto Christ. I can see it blessing both parties.”

This has certainly been true for Elder Tyson Parsons of Salem, Utah, who was a car mechanic prior to his mission in Tucson. When Parsons landed in the mission field, Grisel felt inspired to assign him to a certain area — not knowing the area had a lot of people who needed help with their cars.

“He’ll come to meetings with blisters all over his hands,” Grisel says of Parsons. “The people that he’s been helping just love him.”

“It has seriously been the coolest blessing,” says Parsons. “You don’t hear many stories about missionaries rebuilding transmissions or working on engines. I thought all my skills would just be there for when I got home. It was a huge testimony builder that Heavenly Father wanted my talents to share the gospel and to lend a helping hand to those in need.”

He’s learned that if we’re willing, God will always provide ways we can help those around us.

In a time when missionary work — among many other things — has been anything but normal, service has been a bright spot.

Parsons says service brings the people that they’re helping so much joy, and the joy is contagious. While he and his companions, Elders Nicholas Nelson and Travis Durrans, provide service of all kinds, working on cars is Parsons’ favorite. He especially loves trucks.

“Service has been pivotal in my mission because I’m able to use my talents and forget worrying about myself,” he says.

Their goal is a service project a day. And sometimes that service leads to chances to teach about the Savior.

Of course, missionaries aren’t the only ones volunteering their time and talents during the pandemic. You can visit JustServe.org for opportunities near you.

Service might look different for everyone, but to the Savior it’s all the same: “A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you.” (John 13:34)