Saturday, April 19, 2014

The Highest Good


A small part of the chapter entitled "Participants in the Divine Nature," from the Book, The God Who Weeps, by Terryl & Fiona Givens

(How Mormonism Makes Sense of Life)

"Heaven will consist of those relationships that mean the most to us now.  Plato, the father of Western philosophy, believed our paramount moral duty was 'becoming like god so far as is possible' and was certain that to do so was to honor, not to blaspheme against, the Divine. Genuine love always desires the highest good for the objects of its affection. We think his words on this subject are among the most inspired ever spoken in the ancient world, even if they originated in a culture far removed from the traditions of Judeo-Christianity.

He who framed this whole universe . . . was good, and one who is good can never become jealous of anything. And so, being free of jealousy, he wanted everything to become as much like himself as was possible..

The common view today is that the traditional family is an earthly institution that evolved largely in response to sociocultural or economic forces and motives. It is true that family composition and roles have changed over time. But given our relationship with God that preceded the Creation, the family may be said to have origins just as old. In this sense, one may say “the earthly is the image of the heavenly.” In other words, “that which is earthly conform[s] to that which is heavenly,” or “that which is temporal [is] in the likeness of that which is spiritual,” not just the other way around.

What God envisions for us, what His Son prayed most earnestly for toward the end of His life, was for us to achieve the harmony He shares with His Father. In essence, we are invited to participate in the heavenly family of God Himself. Not through metaphorical melding, but through the studied, arduous practice of a holy life that prepares us to love as He does. Parley Pratt wrote that 'our natural affections . . . are the very main-springs of life and happiness. They are the cement of all virtuous and heavenly society. . . . From this union of affection, spring all the other relationships, social joys and affections, diffused through every branch of human existence. Man was designed for a social being.'

A child we knew wanted an ant farm. Year after year, he asked for—and received—an ant farm. Left to his own devices, he would happily hasten outside, collect cupfuls of black ants (red ones were too fierce), and carefully place them in their plastic city. Then he would sit back and watch them.

Over the next few days (they would) wander aimlessly, dwindle, and die. He was never one to read directions, and his dad was not one to supervise childish projects. Only years later did he realize he needed to order a queen ant, so they could all function as a community.

Ants, like bees and termites, are social. They cannot survive individually. The philosopher Aristotle famously defined humans, too, as …'social animals.'  But our humanity involves more than just living in communities, or forming social arrangements, or practicing the division of labor. We are, fundamentally and inescapably, relational beings.

Across time and culture, societies have imposed penalties and chastisement in the cruel recognition of this fact. Many ancients considered exile from one’s community a more grievous penalty than death. Religious groups have practiced excommunication and shunning as the ultimate sanction, and preachers project outer darkness, or isolation from God and loved ones, as a burning beyond hell. In a penal context, many consider solitary confinement a form of psychological torture; in prolonged cases, it can lead to complete mental collapse. The most terrifying specter that haunts the modern psyche is not death or disease or nuclear annihilation. It is loneliness.

We pass through birth and death as individuals. But the years in between are filled with the unceasing search for community, for companionship, for intimacy. There is no self-evident reason why this should be so, and why an existence alone should be fodder not just for melancholy musings, but for nightmares and madness.

Relationships are the core of our existence because they are the core of God’s, and we are in His image. God’s nature and life are the simple extension of that which is most elemental, and most worthwhile, about our life here on earth. However rapturous or imperfect, fulsome or shattered, our knowledge of love has been; we sense it is the very basis and purpose of our existence. It is a belonging that we crave because it is one we have always known.

In some cases, belief in our premortal existence was abandoned precisely because it implied a connection to the divine that was thought to be blasphemous, to span a divide thought to be unbridgeable. The church father Tertullian explicitly rejected preexistence in just such terms. He thought attributing an eternal past to the spirit “put it on a par with God.” Making the soul 'unborn' suggested to his mind perfect divinity, 'which properly belonged only to God.'

A century later, the church father Arnobius agreed that only those with 'an extravagant opinion of themselves' believed that souls were not created at birth, but were literally 'descended from that parent and sire, divine.'

Extravagant or not, the emphasis on a heaven that recovers and extends relationships forged in this life and before, gives meaning and focus to our life in the here and now. Our growth into godliness is a process directed and enabled by God, in accord with an inherent capacity. It is in the continuity of our lives now with our lives hereafter that we find rescue from the dangerous heaven of fairy tales. We say rescue, because a recurrent temptation in Christian history has been to imagine a heaven that is an escape from the hard slog of life, a sudden liberation from life’s disappointments, shattered dreams, and wounded relationships.

Nietzsche was right when he said Christians had a tendency to turn away from this life in contempt, to dream of other-worldly delights rather than resolve worldly problems. We humans have a lamentable tendency to spend more time theorizing the reasons behind human suffering, than working to alleviate human suffering, and in imagining a heaven above, than creating a heaven in our homes and communities.

What we call the virtues are precisely those attributes of character that best suit us to live harmoniously, even joyfully, in society. Kindness only exists when there is someone to whom we show kindness. Patience is only manifest when another calls it forth. So it is with mercy, generosity, and self-control. What we may have thought was our private pathway to salvation, was intended all along as a collaborative enterprise, though we often miss the point.

The confusion is understandable, since our current generation’s preference for “spirituality” over “religion” is often a sleight of hand that confuses true discipleship with self-absorption.

Holiness is found in how we treat others, not in how we contemplate the cosmos. As our experiences in marriages, families, and friendship teach us, it takes relationships to provide the friction that wears down our rough edges and sanctifies us. And then, and only then, those relationships become the environment in which those perfected virtues are best enjoyed. We need those virtues not just here, but eternally because 'the same sociality that exists here, will exist there, only it will be coupled with celestial glory, which glory we do not now enjoy.' (D&C 130:2)

Christ is the model to which we aspire. C. S. Lewis wrote, 'The Church exists for nothing else but to draw men into Christ, to make them little Christs. If they are not doing that, all the cathedrals, clergy, missions, sermons, even the Bible itself, are simply a waste of time. God became Man for no other purpose. It is even doubtful . . . whether the whole universe was created for any other purpose.'

What we are most certain of is that our natural affections . . . are the cement of all virtuous and heavenly society.  Ultimately, we understand God’s nature, and human salvation, to be the simple amplification of that which is most elemental, and most worthwhile, about our life here on earth. The divine nature of man, and the divine nature of God, are shown to be the same—they are rooted in the will to love, at the price of pain, but in the certainty of joy.

Heaven holds out the promise of a belonging that is destined to extend and surpass any that we have ever known in this wounded world.

We believe in a heaven—and heavenly inhabitants—that are dynamic, not static, in their existence. Nothing in the ever-evolving cosmos God has fashioned, nothing in the relentless self-perfecting processes of species and individuals, nothing in the insatiable longings of the human heart, suggests otherwise. Even so, preachers and poets alike have been much more effective at portraying the torments of the damned than the (bliss) of the blessed."

Friday, April 04, 2014

Joy

LASTING HAPPINESS  
 
 (by Craig P. Wilson, Ensign Magazine, page 16, April 2014, only a part is included here).
 
    Though the gospel teaches that all of humanity is engineered for lasting happiness and that virtually all are built to act with the end motive of happiness in mind, many seem to struggle to attain the state of being for which we were created. Why? Does living in an imperfect world, with all its difficulties and challenges, loom as too big a barrier, blocking us from this “blessed and happy state”?
 
Researchers in the field of pos­itive psychology have dedicated much time and energy to answering such questions. As one writer has observed, “[Positive psychology] asks, what makes people happy? What makes communities strong? What can we do to help our chil­dren, and ourselves, to pursue lives that have meaning and purpose?”  Consequently, positive psychologists have identified several traits or factors that are shared by truly happy indi­viduals. Not surprisingly, what these researchers continue to discover through their studies are principles that have always been a part of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
 
    Following are some of the traits that seem to be common among those who lead happy, meaningful lives:
 
    Happy people are content with hav­ing their basic needs met.
 
    Researchers have found that across cultures around the world, being able to obtain such basics as food, shelter, and clothing (and to acquire perhaps “a little bit more”) produces high levels of long-term satisfaction in people. Spending money beyond those basic needs, however, does not generally increase the level of long-term satisfaction. For example, one study reported that the average life-satisfaction level for the Inughuit people of northern Greenland was virtually indistinguishable from that of American billionaires, despite the enormous difference in material possessions and wealth. How could that be? Doesn’t it make sense that the more we spend on ourselves, the more satisfied we’ll be?
 
    In actuality, the answer is no. Studies have consistently shown that when we purchase something we want but don’t really need, we gen­erally experience a short-term feeling of satisfaction (a “chocolate high”), followed by a relatively swift return to our earlier satisfaction level.
    In other words, just about everything we buy that we do not really need is rapidly taken for granted. Living on such a consumer treadmill, with its short-term highs, runs counter to our well-being and can divert us from experiencing sustained happiness.
 
    Avoiding consumerism is related to a fundamental principle of provident living, expressed by Elder Robert D. Hales of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles: “When faced with the choice to buy, consume, or engage in worldly things and activities, we all need to learn to say to one another, ‘We can’t afford it, even though we want it!’ or ‘We can afford it, but we don’t need it—and we really don’t even want it!’”  
    Even when they live in a materialis­tic society, happy people are not ruled by the often mistaken idea that “more is better.”
 
    I once heard an interesting analogy that helps describe why the notion that “more is better” is often wrong. Imagine choosing your two favorite pieces of music and having the oppor­tunity to listen to one and then the other. If asked to rate each of your listening experiences on a scale from 1 to 10, you would likely give both of them a solid 10, meaning each was highly enjoyable. However, if you decided to play both pieces at the same time, guided by the idea that “more is better,” your listening expe­rience would undoubtedly not add up to a 20 or even a 10. In fact, the experience would likely just produce irritating noise!
 
    This phenomenon of finding that more is often not better was expressed by one researcher this way: “When there are too many com­peting demands on our time and attention, our ability to be present is diminished—and with it, our ability to appreciate and enjoy the experience.”
 
The evidence strongly suggests that in contrast to getting caught up in the culture of “wanting it all,” the practice of simplifying our lives can lead to greater financial peace and overall well-being. Elder L. Tom Perry of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles has extolled the virtue of simplicity as a means to “obtain relief from the stresses of life.”  He has also taught: “One of the better ways to simplify our lives is to follow the counsel we have so often received to live within our income, stay out of debt, and save for a rainy day. We should prac­tice and increase our habits of thrift, industry, economy, and frugality.”  
 
Happy people are involved in something they believe is bigger than themselves.
 
Whether through involvement in a religious organization or through working in a meaningful job, those who are happiest are able to lose themselves in a worthwhile cause. Those who find satisfaction in the workplace often describe their daily work as a “calling” rather than a job or even a career.
 
    Individuals with a calling see their work as contributing to the greater good, to something larger than they are.
 
    With this understanding in mind, isn’t it interesting that in the Church we are usually asked to fulfill callings, not perform jobs? One of the great benefits of activity in the Church is the sense that whatever good we do here contributes to our Father in Heaven’s work “to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man” (Moses 1:39)
 
    Happy people use their personal strengths to bless the lives of others.
 
    What are our personal strengths? While we might be inclined to think of these as our talents (such as piano playing or woodworking), there are other kinds of personal strengths— what psychologist Martin Seligman calls our “signature strengths.” These include “integrity, valor, original­ity, and kindness.” They “are moral traits, while talents are nonmoral.”  Dr. Seligman further defines signature strengths as “what parents wish for their newborn (‘I want my child to be loving, to be brave, to be prudent’). . . . They would not say they want their child to have a job in middle management.”  
 
    Happy people foster close friend­ships and family relationships.
 
    The Old Testament records an interview that the patriarch Jacob had near the end of his life with his son Joseph, during which Jacob spoke of his younger days and of Rachel, his wife (see Genesis 48:3–7).
 
    Commenting on this interview, Rabbi Harold S. Kushner has written: “Jacob, coming to the end of his life, is saying, in effect: When I was young, I wanted to change the world. I wanted to be so important that everyone would know my name.  I may not have done that, but along the way, I loved someone. I changed her life and she changed mine, and that meant every­thing. That made it all worthwhile.”  
 
    Positive psychologists might observe that Jacob’s commitment to family relationships undoubtedly improved his level of well-being. “In fact,” say psychologists Ed Diener and Robert Biswas-Diener, “the links between happiness and social contact are so strong that many psychologists think that humans are genetically wired to need one another.”  
 
    Although having acquaintances and casual friends can be rewarding, it is the supportive, close relation­ships that are essential to happiness. “The Family: A Proclamation to the World” clearly affirms the importance of creating and maintaining loving family relationships. It also pointedly reminds us that “happiness in family life is most likely to be achieved when founded upon the teachings of the Lord Jesus Christ.”
 
    Happy people focus less on tran­sient, pleasurable pursuits and more on enduring, meaningful ones.
 
    Depression has become increas­ingly common in all the wealthy countries of the world. Why is this so? Psychologist Martin Seligman suggests that one of the culprits is an “over-reliance on shortcuts to hap­piness. Every wealthy nation creates more and more shortcuts to pleasure: television, drugs, shopping, loveless sex, spectator sports, and chocolate to name just a few.”
 
    Noting what little effort a ready-made breakfast required of him, he asks, “What would hap­pen if my entire life were made up of such easy pleasures, never calling on my strengths, never presenting challenges?  Such a life sets one up for depression.”
 
    Elder Richard G. Scott of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles has provided a gospel perspective on these matters: “While wholesome pleasure results from much we do that is good, it is not our prime purpose for being on earth.
    Seek to know and do the will of the Lord, not just what is convenient or what makes life easy.  You have His plan of happiness.  You know what to do, or can find out through study and prayer. Do it willingly.”
 
    One of the great themes of the restored gospel is agency and that “men should be anxiously engaged in a good cause, and do many things of their own free will, and bring to pass much righteousness” (D&C 58:27). This is the path to a life of purpose and happiness.
 
    Happy people strive to become more selfless.
 
    Deciding to forget oneself and reach out to others brings immea­surable blessings to the giver. Authors Gary Morsch and Dean Nelson explain that “while the sci­entific evidence shows we are wired toward altruism, there is still a choice involved.
 
    The beauty of the choice is that, when we choose to serve others, something wonderful happens.”  And what kind of wonderful thing might that be? Morsch and Nelson describe what one group experienced after helping repair a building damaged by a hurricane: “They felt their lives meant something while they were doing something for someone else. They had helped someone in a con­crete way, and it made them feel alive. They didn’t say it made them feel good. Lots of things can do that. This brought them to life.
 
 
    Such descriptions are strikingly similar to the Savior’s teaching that “whosoever shall lose his life shall preserve it” (Luke 17:33). Concerning the connection between service and happiness, President Thomas S. Monson has taught: “To find real happiness, we must seek for it in a focus outside ourselves. No one has learned the meaning of living until he has surrendered his ego to the service of his fellowmen. Service to others is akin to duty, the fulfillment of which brings true joy.”
 
    To experience such happiness ourselves is not an unreachable ideal. As we dedicate ourselves to living the gospel of Jesus Christ, adopting righteous characteristics, we observe in the lives of those who lead joyful, meaningful lives, that we too can live “after the manner of happiness” (2 Nephi 5:27)—the lasting happiness that God intended for His children.