Good Friday

Four days after Jerusalem welcomed Jesus with cheers of Hosanna and the waving of palms, the midnight of Good Friday found him alone in Gethsemane, suffering for all of our sins and sorrows. Isaiah writes, “The punishment that brought our peace was on him, / and by his wounds we are healed” (53:5) while Jesus tells us that he “suffer[ed] these things for all . . . which suffering caused myself even God, the greatest of all, to tremble because of pain, and to bleed at every pore” (D&C 19:18).

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My Articles of Faith

One of the many (many, many, many) blessings of attending Harvard Divinity School for me was discovering some what I believe because I am a Christian and what I believe because I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Once, I remember, I was sitting in a class called “Early Christian Bodies,” and said something about how Christ knew what it was to live in each of our bodies, because he experienced everything we ever experienced during the Atonement. And everyone in the class said, “What?”

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Meekness

Meekness is one of virtues I’ve been guilty of underestimating. I’ve associated it with weakness, with appeasing and submitting. But I think at the heart of it, meekness is accepting and following the will of God no matter what the cost. As I’ve studied the scriptures and experimented with this in my own life, I’ve found that meekness is the opposite of weakness. In fact, it requires the utmost strength and courage, and it is the harbinger of the greatest grace.

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As Little Children

In Matthew 18:3, Jesus tells us to “be as little children.”

As someone who has recently acquired a little child, I sometimes find this request puzzling. Like last week when Molly threw a fit because I wouldn’t let her wear her flamingo socks for the third day in a row. After twenty minutes of negotiating, I managed to distract her from the socks with a tutu.

But the other day, I was reading something else Jesus said, about coming to him when we are heavy laden, and the Psalm that asks us to go to Him with a broken heart and a contrite spirit. And I remember the time Molly was hurt after she shut her fingers in her drawer, and all the times she’s sad after her dad leaves for work, or when her mouth hurts from teething—every time, she turned straight to me. She comes up and grabs my legs or reaches up, and I hold her while she cries.

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Talk: Women in the New Testament

This is a talk I gave in church a few weeks ago, so you might notice that there are some genre elements that are different than usual:

Today, I’m going to talk about how the women in the New Testament are different than in any other type of scripture because they are not introduced or usually primarily characterized by their relationship to men. I am pretty convinced that that’s because Jesus was there, because you can’t tell Jesus’s story without telling at least some of theirs. He cared about them too much, talked to them too much, interacted with them too much for them to disappear in scriptures about him. 

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Standing in the Dark

It’s a bit of a cliche, learning about God from parenting. God isn’t mad at us when it takes us time to learn, just as we’re not mad at babies when they fall down learning to walk. We don’t always understand why pain is necessary, just as babies don’t understand why we’re giving them shots. 

It’s a cliche, but it’s what I find myself thinking about it a lot these days. 

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And Jesus Said, "Mind Your Business"

One day in Jerusalem the disciples forgot to wash their hands before they ate, and the Pharisees took this personally. (Always interesting, isn’t it, what thingswe decide to take personally?) They said to Jesus, “If you’re a prophet, why don’t your disciples follow our elders’ traditions?”

And Jesus said, “Mind your own business.”

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Passing Through Darkness

A Wrinkle in Time is a weird book. It’s theological children’s science fiction. It’s about good and evil, angels that look like old women but are also something like pegasuses or stars, different planets, and giant brains. I love it. Like all really good science fiction, it’s much more about the power of love than it is about aliens.

There’s this moment in A Wrinkle in Time that I think about a lot. Meg passes through the Black Thing. The Black Thing is evil—literally, it is the physical form of evil, and by touching it, she is hurt. The wise people of a new planet treat her and help her regain her physical strength, but she is still wounded. When she lashes out at her most important people, her alien caretaker says, “Don’t judge her harshly, She was almost taken by the Black Thing. Sometimes we can’t know what spiritual damage it leaves.”

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I Stand All Amazed

I gave a talk on hope five years ago, and near the end of it I said, “If you’re not overwhelmed by the need of the world, then you’re just not paying attention,” which is much more true now that it was then. We’ve all lived through a pandemic, financial crisis, and turbulent and dividing politics. And those of us who have those terrible but general things at the top of our list are the lucky ones. We’re the ones that haven’t lived through displacement and violence, crippling illness, death of loved ones, loss of faith. I haven’t been alive to the world and its pain for very long, but the last five years seem particularly rough going.

Which is why, I imagine, my friend (hi Kaia!) texted me recently and asked, “How do we let joy coexist with pain?”

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Poor Decision Making

After all the plagues—the locusts and the lice, the flies and the boils, the death of livestock and the death of the children—the Israelites were camped out at the edge of a sea when the Egyptians came after them.

You have to wonder what possessed the Egyptians to come at all. Trying to keep the Israelites in Egypt had gone very badly (see the above plagues), until even Pharaoh’s priests and courtiers begged him to just let them go already, and Pharaoh—king and god of Egypt—agreed. So it’s odd that so soon after their departure he changed his mind and charged after them

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Be Ready Always

Once, on a bad day, in a bad month, in a bad year, Tal got a flat tire out at the Payson temple. For a variety of health reasons, he couldn’t take care of it himself. He called Sarah (who didn’t know how to change a tire) who called me (who didn’t know how to change a tire) who called our roommate Kaylie (who did know how to change a tire, but did not feel entirely confident that she’d be able to do so on her own). We wandered over to an apartment of boys, where one of them was sick and one of them was already dressed to do an endowment in the temple. But both felt bad telling us no, so all of us went.

As I mentioned, it had been a bad day in a bad month in a bad year, and I didn’t know how to change a tire. I was along for the drive and the people with no personal feeling of responsibility towards either Tal or the tire. So when it turned out that that, out of all five us, none of us knew how to change Tal’s specific tire, it was a welcome relief to sit down on a curb and laugh for a while.

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Sense of Scale

In the story of Babel that I was taught as a kid, the Babelites were not sure they were going to earn their way to heaven and were uncertain of God’s grace, so they figured they’d just climb. They built a tower that punctured the clouds, hoping to find where God lived.

I love this image. It’s so literal and graphic. It’s also wrong. Robert Alter, my favorite Biblical commentator, says no one was trying to build a tower to get to heaven. The text says that the tower’s top was “in the heavens,” but that “is a hyperbole found in Mesopotamian inscriptions for celebrating high towers” (Alter 39). The Babel built tower is the linguistic and literal equivalent of our “skyscrapers.”

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Consecration and the Miracle of Multiplication

The day Jesus learned that his cousin John the Baptist died, he went away into the desert, as he often did when He wanted to talk to God. And, as they often did when they wanted to talk to God, everyone followed him. He was tired and sad, and maybe he was thinking fondly of the days when no one knew who he was, but he didn’t tell them to go, not even when his disciples came up and said, “They should head back. It’s late, and they’ll want to buy food somewhere” (Matthew 14:15).

“No,” Jesus said. “They can stay. We’ll feed them” (Matthew 14:16).

“We only have five loaves of bread and two fish,” the disciples say (Matthew 14:17).

I wonder if they said and did not record or just thought what they really meant: that amount of food is not only not sufficient to feed this crowd, it’s not even enough for us.

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Not Everyone Likes Me, and Apparently That's OK

If you’ve never been to IFS therapy (interfamily systems), then a session sounds nuts. It sounded crazy the first time I went. “I feel like I’m making it up,” I told my therapist.

“So?” she said.

In IFS, we try to identify feelings or urges as “parts” (or “peeps,” as my mom says) with names, personalities, ages, purposes, and desires that may conflict with each other. (Think Inside Out.) As a rule, no matter what a part’s job is or how destructive their work is becoming, they’re there to help. My anger is there to protect me. My sadness lets me know what I value. My tired tells me to rest. But they’re all a part, and it’s my job as the Self to be the whole. I’m the grownup, and I have to help them realize when their job is done or redirect their energy when they’re being hurtful.

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Did Not Our Hearts Burn Within Us?

I’ve been wondering, recently, why no one recognized Jesus when He came back from the dead. Why did no one, upon simply seeing Jesus, shout or faint or otherwise realize that he was flesh and bone among them again.

We can give Mary some room. Mary went to finish Jesus’s burial only to find his body missing, two angels chilling exactly where it should have been. Mary turned and saw Jesus but, through her tears and confusion, didn’t recognize him until he said her name. But she was crying, she’d just encountered angels, she’d though He was dead, and it had been a really, really rough week. We can give Mary some room.

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I Think You Can Do This

In Ether 2, the Brother of Jared approaches God after building boats according to the Lord’s exacting instructions, but he has noticed two problems: Problem 1: These boats are fully enclosed, and the people in them are going to have a hard time breathing. Problem 2: These boats are fully enclosed, and the people in them are going to have a hard time seeing.

God meets him at the top of the mountain tells him to go ahead and cut holes in the top and bottom of the boat that can be very tightly stoppered when the sea is calm, and that way they can get fresh air. (This solution terrifies me, but the Brother of Jared seems to have been chill with it.) Jesus didn’t tell him what to do about the light, though, so after making the tightly stoppered holes, the Brother of Jared hikes back up the mountain to say, “And about the light?”

“What do you think?” God says.

I think, had I been the Brother of Jared, I may have been annoyed by this. I might have thought, “I don’t want to have to keep climbing this mountain when you can just tell me the answer already.”

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Here am I

When I was twenty-two, I ran into a professor in the elevator who said, “Hey, I need someone to do research for me in London. Want to go?”

Going to London is one of those turning points in my life. I spent six weeks there, and it had undue effect on the person I became. Like, I’d always ascribed to second wave feminism enough that I’d refused to care about clothes or makeup or anything appearance related, and then I went and was like, “There are exactly zero guys here I’m trying to impress, and I still want to know what I look like with eyeliner, so I’m gonna do it.” I’d always thought I didn’t like being outside, and one day, on the top of White Horse hill with the wind whipping around me, I found out that I loved being outside. Not being around people I knew meant that I could become who I wanted without fighting their expectations.

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