The Adventures of Elder Elder and Elder Benjamin: The Ambush

The Ambush

December 19, 1989 (Tuesday)

“Tell me more about this guy we’re meeting,” said Elder Benjamin as we sat at the back of the bus.

I answered, “He’s a student: Lee Han-bin (이한빈). I met him last week downtown.” This was before Elder Benjamin had joined with me in Taegu. “A really smart guy. He was intrigued by our street boards, and wouldn’t stop asking us questions. I’m telling you: he’s a Golden Investigator. But I’ll warn you in advance, he’s going to analyze everything we say.”

“Sounds exciting. This Keimyung University is out of our area, though.”

“Yeah, but he lives off campus, in our area — just barely. So, we’re okay.”

We got off the bus at 7PM—already dark outside, and we found our way to the library. We arrived at 7:15, just in time for our appointment and sat down in the lobby. At 7:30, he had not yet shown up.

“Interesting,” I said. “Where is he?”

“Well,” said Elder Benjamin, “we’re at a university, so let’s find out where he is.” And he went around asking other people in the lobby if they knew Lee Han-bin. 

After five minutes of searching, someone finally told us, “Oh — he went to the movie. That’s where he is right now.”

“Dang,” I said in English to my companion. “I guess we won’t be seeing him today after all. The movie was more important to him.”

The student said in English, “I’m sure he’ll talk to you if you go find him. Here’s how you get to the cinema …” And off we went.

When we got there, the movie had already started, and we stood outside the theater doors.

“Well,” I said, “it looks like we’re too late. Any thoughts?”

“We’re already here, and we did have an appointment. He might come out if we ask. Maybe we could send someone in?”

I looked around. There was no one outside the theater but us. There wasn’t a concession stand nor a ticket booth.

One thing to understand: we weren’t supposed to go in because we missionaries weren’t allowed to watch movies. They were considered to be distractions. For one, a movie could be a couple of hours where we could be studying or proselytizing. Also, a movie could be full of tantalizing scenes, tempting us with thoughts of action and women. Yeah — when missionaries return home, it’s common to catch up with all they missed. But during the mission, we had to stay away.

“Who can we send in?” I asked.

“We’re going to have to go in,” he said.

“What?” Was this the infamous uber-spiritual Elder Benjamin suggesting we go into a movie theater? A muffled explosion sounded from inside the theater. “Are you sure about this?”

“The ox is in the mire,” said Elder Benjamin as he pulled the door open.

And then we entered. On the screen was a rainbow-colored depiction of someone traipsing through a forest — some kind of heat map. The music played tensely. The theater was packed. We stood in a small, thin lobby that opened up into the theater itself. Someone noticed us and approached.

“Can I help you?” he asked quietly.

Elder Benjamin said, “Yes. We’re looking for Lee Han-bin. We had an appointment. Do you know if he’s in here?”

“I can go check.”

As the Korean student went deeper in the theater, we couldn’t help but look at the screen. An alien decked out in dreadlocks, holding a large weapon, appeared to be combing the forest. Hunting something — it looked like.

We kept watching until the student returned. “Yes, he’s in here. He can meet you after the movie is over.”

We thanked him, and he sat back down.

“So, Elder Benjamin. What do you think?”

“We don’t have any other appointments tonight. Right? It’s worth waiting another hour.”

“I guess we can wait outside?” I said.

At that moment, the screen went rainbow-colored again, a human shining brightly in red-orange. A white triangle honed into the person’s image and then something shot him. From the point of view of the human, a laser blast came and killed him instantly.

Elder Benjamin said distractedly, “If we leave, he might not know where we are.”

“Yeah,” I said. “The ox is in the mire.”

And we continued watching. We stayed standing in the small lobby hall, as there wasn’t anywhere to sit. The movie went on. There wasn’t much talking onscreen, but when there was, it was dubbed into Korean. The alien appeared to be hunting a team of humans, and doing very well.

“Hey,” I said. “Isn’t that the Terminator guy?”

“I don’t know. Never saw that,” he answered.

A Korean voice-over badly imitated the Arnold. 

And I looked over at Elder Benjamin, the one who had never seen any rated–R movies, deeply engrossed in watching the movie. Was this a good thing we were doing? Should I have at least convinced him to wait together outside until the movie ended? It was worth meeting this smart investigator — worth saving his soul, but did we have to be inside the theater?

I also felt a little strange standing there in the back, where anyone could turn around and see us staring. In a way, I felt that we were lying in waiting — an ambush — ready to pounce once the prey walked by. Common sense told me that it would be infinitely better to wait outside.

But I’ll be honest. I just had to see how the movie ended.

So we kept watching as the Arnold kicked major alien butt. And then the movie ended.

Because of the narrow hallway, we had no choice but to retreat outside of the theater doors — again reminding me that we could have waited outside the doors the whole time.

I watched the students walk past us, many of whom glanced at us quickly with curiosity. And as the crowd began to thin out, I had not yet seen Lee Han-bin. When it had thinned out sufficiently, I peeked into the theater, and Lee Han-bin wasn’t in there.

Elder Benjamin asked a student, “Have you seen Lee Han-bin?”

“Yes,” he said. “He went with his friends out the side door over there.”

Another exit? Dang. We had missed him again.

“He’s gone,” I said to Elder Benjamin. “He faked us … big time.”

“Looks like it,” he said. “Should we continue to pursue him?”

“No, I don’t think he wants to meet.” Again came that fear that we would come across as stalking him. “Let’s go home.”

Elder Benjamin agreed, and we headed back.  As we walked, he backslid into his own fear that we would be separated. “We’re going to get in trouble” and “We shouldn’t have done that.” We ultimately agreed that we would never tell anyone we had watched the movie — one that we would later learn was indeed a rated-R movie.

But at least the whole night wasn’t entirely in vain. Elder Benjamin and I each handed out a Mormon Kyeong on the bus ride home.

December 20, 1989 (Wednesday)

The next morning, Han-bin called us. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I was with my friends and I got caught up in all the fun. You know how college can be, right?”

I had to admit: I certainly did understand, thinking of the couple of times during my freshman year at BYU when I had ditched friends as impromptu plans were made.

“That’s okay,” I said. “Would you like to set up another appointment?”

“Sure,” he said. “How about 7PM this Friday?”

I pulled out the yellow weekly planner from my shirt pocket. “Works for me.”

“And is it okay if I bring some friends? That way, it will be harder for me to ditch you again.”

“Sure. The more the merrier.”

As the phone call came to an end, Elder Benjamin jumped at me and gave me a high five.

December 22, 1989 (Friday)

The next two days passed by slowly, and also quickly, as we approached the highlight of the week. The Golden Discussion. We had the perfect investigator, and he was bringing friends. We knew this was going to be easy. All we had to do was give the first discussion, and Han-bin would latch on quickly. Perhaps he would convince his friends, too. And at the end, we would set a date for baptism. How many of them would we bring into the fold?

We arrived at his apartment on the third floor, and knocked on his door at exactly 7PM. We heard nothing but silence, and for a moment we wondered if Han-bin had faked us at his own place this time. But our fears faded when he opened the door, smiling. “Come on in,” he said. And we found ourselves surrounded by at least 10 other men — all middle-aged. They each shook our hands, but not with smiles. Rather they all maintained the aura of authority, experience, wisdom, and seriousness.

I whispered to Elder Benjamin in English. “Why does a student have so many older friends? I’m not so sure about this.”

“Have faith,” he responded. “Remember Sidney Rigdon who converted whole congregations. When the knowledgeable hear truth, they have no choice but to accept it.”

Han-bin then introduced all of his friends by name. They were all religious professors at the university. The last to be introduced was the dean himself. He said, “We are all looking forward to your presentation. When Han-bin notified us about the foreigner Mormon missionaries, we had to come and see it for ourselves.”

I looked over at Elder Benjamin thinking, “This is not going to go the way we planned.”

He smiled back at me reassuringly as if to say, “Have faith. Stick with the first discussion, and we’ll be fine. Six simple principles, and we’re done.”

The dean then said, “Well, shall we begin? Let’s hear what you have to say.”

So much for smalltalk. These guys wanted to get down to business.

One thing to understand about Korea in the late 1980’s: the predominant Christian religion was Presbyterian, (장로교), pronounced “Chahng-no Kyo,” which translates into “Elder Church.” If a Korean wasn’t Buddhist or agnostic, they were very likely to be Presbyterian, and its name alone demanded respect and confidence. No one messed with the Elder Church.

So, I began the discussion with 1.1: Our Heavenly Father. The group all nodded with affirmation as we described the traits of God, the Father.

Elder Benjamin took 1.2: Jesus Christ. Again the group seemed to approve. Though one of the professors seemed fit to remind us that Jesus Christ and the Father were one and the same. Elder Benjamin answered about how they appear as distinct members of the Trinity to us, and this allowed us to continue the discussion.

I took Part 1.3 on the Prophets. This centered around the scripture Amos 3:7. “Surely the Lord God will do nothing, but he revealeth his secret unto his servants the prophets.” And here we received more comments along the lines of: “how do we know if a prophet is true?” It was as if they knew what was coming next. I wondered: did they have a class that focused on the six missionary discussions and how to debunk them?

And then the real fun started with Part 1.4 on Joseph Smith. Elder Benjamin tried to explain the First Vision, but didn’t get very far. The professors each took turns about how Joseph Smith was a charlatan, a gold digger, a polygamist, a felon, and so on. Since this was Elder Benjamin’s section, he took on most of the questions, but a few times, I stepped in to defend our first prophet. We had to correct the falsehoods: about how he was never convicted, hearsay, circumstantial evidence, and so on. And several times we had to remind them that we worshipped God and not Joseph Smith, as we had just covered in the first two principles.

Ultimately, Elder Benjamin said, “I thought you all wanted to hear what we had to say, but you don’t seem to be listening. We have yet to finish our presentation.”

“Oh,” said the dean. “What comes next?”

Elder Benjamin gestured for me to continue, and so I took Part 1.5 on the Book of Mormon. They listened for a few minutes as I related the story of Lehi and his family, and Mormon, who compiled the writings, and his son Moroni who buried the plates for Joseph Smith to receive later. And I should have known what would come next.

“Can we see these gold plates?” asked one professor.

“No,” I said. “Joseph Smith gave the plates back to the angel Moroni after he had finished translating them.”

Another professor said, “Isn’t that a little convenient? So, there’s nothing to corroborate Joseph Smith’s story?”

I laughed. “Isn’t that one of the biggest complaints against God and the Bible? No proof? When has God ever left proof of any of those stories? How else does He test our faith?”

And the battle continued on: me against the professors. This whole time, Han-bin had been silent. So, I tried something differently. “So, Han-bin. What do you think about all this?”

He sheepishly eyed the rest of the room, and said, “I don’t know.” I recognized what was going on. Korean culture dictated that those with authority did all the speaking, and novices listened while they learned. This whole spectacle seemed to make him nervous: a couple of teenagers taking on elders in his own home.

So I turned to the professors. “Why did you all come here tonight? You are all busy, so why spend a Friday night doing this? What exactly do you hope to accomplish? We’re two young boys serving the Lord, bringing people closer to Christ.”

There was silence for half a minute, and then one of them spoke up. “We think you are misguided, and we are losing members of our congregation. You and others are converting them. If we can show you the error of your ways, as the angel appeared to Saul, then we can help stop this.”

Again silence. I wasn’t expecting the truth, but I had to respond. I said, “Perhaps we’re providing answers that you don’t have?” In hindsight, that probably wasn’t the best thing to say. We went right back into the battle. For some reason it even devolved into an argument over faith vs. works.

And then I noticed someone else who was completely silent. Elder Benjamin. This spiritual workhorse had stopped helping me. Surely he could say something spiritual to turn everything around. We had one section left. 1.6. The most important section, which was on the Holy Spirit. How could we know that any of this was true? The Holy Spirit was the one answer to that question. And that’s all I had to do: segue the conversation to the Holy Spirit, and then it would be Elder Benjamin taking over, and he would close the deal, overpowering everyone with the Spirit, and converting them all — just like Sidney Rigdon had done.

As I tried steering the discussion, Elder Benjamin suddenly said, “It’s time for us to leave.” Immediate silence and puzzled faces stared throughout the room. “We have another appointment.” I looked at my watch. 8:30. Wow — the time had flown. But we didn’t have another appointment. Why was he giving up?

He stood up and walked over to the exit, proceeding to put on his shoes. I had no choice but to follow him. But I wasn’t finished. Not even a closing prayer? We still had plenty of time to finish the discussion.

I’m sure the others saw the puzzlement in my face. They all smiled back, even Han-bin. They had won. But I wasn’t done. There was so much more to explain. Why, Elder Benjamin? Why give up on these people? What happened to the spiritual workhorse? We couldn’t let them win.

I reluctantly put on my shoes, said a weak “Goodbye,” and we left, closing the door behind us.

“Well,” I said. “That was interesting.”

Elder Benjamin said, “Yeah. It was time to leave.”

“But we weren’t done. We still had the Holy Spirit.”

“But we didn’t. The Holy Spirit left a long time ago, so it wouldn’t have done any good. Why throw pearls to the swine? And you were getting quite angry in there.”

“Me, angry? They never wanted to listen to us. They only wanted to tell us why we’re wrong. They’d rather believe their own lies rather than hear the truth. Of course I’m angry.”

“Exactly,” said Elder Benjamin.

I reached down to wipe the dust from my shoes, but then Elder Benjamin grabbed my arm. “No! Don’t do that. You can’t curse them, because they know not. And they didn’t cast us out. We left on our own.”

“Maybe. But have you ever seen so much pride? Nothing they said could be wrong. And what about Han-bin? We can’t let him get away with how he’s treated us. Why feign interest only to fake us and then set up this ambush meeting? Isn’t that worse than casting us out?”

“It doesn’t matter.” 

Elder Benjamin walked away, and I scurried to follow. “But doesn’t it?” I asked. “This could have been a golden opportunity. If we had gotten through to them, it would have led to many conversions. Can you imagine what kind of breakthrough that would have been — how many souls we could have saved? But it seems like you gave up at the end.”

“I was listening.”

Now on the second floor, Elder Benjamin left the staircase and walked across a mezzanine. I asked, “Um, … where are we going now?”

“I’m following.”

“What? The Spirit? The exit is downstairs. I could have told you that.”

Elder Benjamin said, “I’m listening and following … this way.” We reached the staircase on the other side, and he went up.

“I don’t think this is the way out,” I said.

“Shhh,” said Elder Benjamin. One floor up, he exited on to the third floor and said, “Here it is. Three doors.” I looked, and sure enough, there were three doors in front of us. 

Then it hit me. “Wait, you want to knock these doors out? It’s 8:35. We’ve already done enough. It’s time to go home.”

“Aren’t you listening?” he said. “I’ll take the first one.” He knocked, and after a minute someone opened the door, which was chained.

“Hello, who is it?” said a woman.

Elder Benjamin said, “We’re foreign missionaries from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and we have a message …”

The door slammed loudly in our faces, echoing through the hall, which was an achievement considering the door had been chained and not opened that far. We were used to it, and quickly brushed it off.

“Okay,” said Elder Benjamin. “Your turn.”

I took the middle door. I knocked, and no answer. At least not yet. I heard noises inside — someone watching TV. So I tried it again. And still no answer.

“What are we doing?” I asked. “Wasn’t it enough to be tortured by professors? Are we looking to give out one last Mormon Kyeong so we end on a high note?”

“You still don’t hear it?” said Elder Benjamin.

“Hear what?” What I heard was no one coming to the door.

“The real reason why we’re here. Think about it. Meeting Han-bin, being faked at the movie, his wasting our time tonight, trying to make us stop doing what we’re doing. None of that was important. It all leads up to this moment here — why we’re really here. Had we not gone through all that torture, we would have never gotten here.”

“What? Right here in this hall?”

“Yes. About thirty minutes ago, the Spirit came upon me suddenly. It told me someone was calling out for help. I ignored it for a few minutes, but it hit even stronger. It said: all you have to do is leave and I will guide you. But you all kept on going. And then after another few minutes, it hit the strongest, saying: it’s now or never. You need to leave now.

“You see,” he said, “This is how God delivered us. It was His plan this whole entire time. Behind one of these three doors, there is someone ready to hear our message, and we need to find out which one it is. So, I’ll take this last door, and if they don’t answer, we can come back and try this one again.”

And then the Spirit confirmed the truth of what he was saying. God had been guiding us this whole time. In my desire to convert the unconvertible — to grab the incredible story I could tell all my friends — the glory of being the best missionaries in the mission, I had forgotten that it was our calling to find the ones ready to hear our message among all the unconvertible. In my anger, I had missed the calling entirely.

“I see you finally hear it,” said Elder Benjamin. “Let’s knock this last door.”

He knocked and after half a minute, someone opened the door, his face down. He said, “Hello?”

Elder Benjamin said, “We’re foreign missionaries from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints …”

“You came,” he said, looking up. “I was just praying for answers, and here you are. Come on in.” He opened the door wider.

Elder Benjamin looked over at me, eyes wide, as if somewhat surprised, himself, how well the Spirit’s promptings had worked.

As we sat down on the floor of his living area, our host said, “I’m Kim Bo-yeon (김보연), and I’m so happy you came.”

Next Adventure: Christmas in Taegu

Thee and Thou

Once, I had prepared a copy of "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" for the men to sing one Christmas. And when I had passed out the music, one of them said almost immediately, "Uh oh. We're going to have to 'thee' and 'thou' this" and there was quick agreement from the others.

It was a little embarrassing, as I had copied the lyrics from the internet, and it hadn't occurred to me to check for "thee"s and "thou"s. But I was more than willing to change the lyrics to make everyone happy.

I'm sure this may sound silly to many of my readers who don't belong to my church, but this is what we're going to talk about today. This common occurrence may seem strange, but is not without explanation.

My church (the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints) often uses "thee" and "thou" for two main reasons:

• We use the King James Version of the Bible, which uses "thee" and "thou." And all of our other scripture does so as well. Kind in mind that these other scripture were written in the early 1800's when "thee" and "thou" were still popular in religious texts.
• We are also taught to use "thee" and "thou" in our prayers as a sign of respect to God. It's also in practically all of the hymns in our hymnal.

Though, I must admit, myself, that the practice seems a little strange to me. Evidently, my church is the only one to do this -- or at least the largest English denomination to do so. Practically all other churches use the more modern "you."

But I get it -- speaking "thee" and "thou" is like flipping a switch in the brain -- it helps distinguish between our everyday secular speech from our more "holy" religious speech. It helps us out, even though people from outside of our church easily get distracted by it, and may sometimes use it as a source of ridicule.

From my knowledge, this linguistic phenomenon is mostly associated with English. Korean scriptures do something similar with archaic verb endings, which are no longer in use today. Spanish doesn't seem to do anything much differently, except for perhaps using the word "vosotros" a lot (where Mexicans have mostly dropped the word). I don't know much about any other languages.

In English, this is a tradition I've come to understand, and I'm more than used to it. Just this past week, I volunteered to give a prayer at a nondenominational Bible study lunch, and the "thee"s and "thou"s flowed without me even realizing. Nobody complained, though.

Sometimes, though, I've wondered if this "respect" sometimes serves to help push God away from us, making it a little bit harder to have a healthy intimate relation with Him. Also, changing "you"s to "thee"s and "thou"s and adding the corresponding verb modifications can often ruin rhyming schemes in hymns and songs.

So, a couple of years, I decided to research the history of "thee" and "thou" to get a better understanding -- and why we do this, and then I learned something surprising -- something that flipped my world around. It turns out that my understanding of "thee" and "thou" was entirely backward.

At any time after 1300, "thee" and "thou" were associated with common speech. And "you" was what the more sophisticated people used. "Thee" and "thou" was a way to talk down to someone -- the opposite of being respectful.

When Tyndale wrote his translation (and later the King's James Version) he decided to use "thee" and "thou" to help the scripture be more accessible to the common people. That is why common speech instead of the more sophisticated speech.

And later, what about the Puritans who would choose to use "thee" and "thou" in all their speech? It wasn't to honor God, but rather to speak simply -- adopt the common tongue in all their speech.

The idea of "thee" and "thou" becoming honorific language seems to have come from the 1800's -- the time in which Joseph Smith began our church.

So, there you have it -- everything you ever wanted to learn on the subject. I'm sure a linguist could school us even further, but I think these are the simplest parts to grasp. 

What dost thou think?

Where Are the Apostles?

 

A reading of Acts makes one thing clear: there were more than 12 apostles.

(A quick note: I was supposed to get back to my Elder Elder and Elder Benjamin stories today, but alas -- my new upgrade to Mac Ventura has destroyed my Scrivener install, and I can't get to the stories -- but don't worry. Apple's shortcomings won't stop the story telling. You just get some good non-fiction musings this week.)

We all know how this story begins. Jesus calls 12 apostles. They were chosen to do missionary work, perform miracles, and lead the Church in His absence. We also know that Judas Iscariot betrayed Jesus and then killed himself after the death of Christ. This left 11 apostles.

So what comes next? The Book of Acts 1 continues the story, starting in verse 15. In a meeting with the apostles and others, Peter talked about Judas Iscariot, and in verse 20 he quotes Psalms:

Let his habitation be desolate, and let no man dwell therein: and his bishoprick let another take.

And then they discussed who Judas' replacement should be. They named two men: Barsabas and Matthias. They then prayed and drew lots, and Matthias was chosen. Then their number were 12 again. One might think this was the end of Barsabas, who was rejected -- but no ... his story continues.

The Book of Acts goes on, telling the story of how apostles begin dying. Stephen is stoned to death in Chapter 7. And then Saul persecutes the Church, sees Jesus, is converted, and changes his name to Paul. Peter sees a great vision that Gentiles need to hear the message of Christ. And Paul becomes a great leader and a missionary.

Yet there is no record of Paul becoming an apostle, set apart like Matthias. But he's performing miracles, persuading many, and making important decisions. In other words: acting like an apostle. But when was he ordained?

Suddenly Acts 14:14 says out of the blue:

Which when the apostles, Barnabas and Paul ... 

Yeah -- now there are not just one, but two new apostles. If there's some doubt, it seems to go away in Acts 15:22, when it talks about the apostles sending men of their own company, naming again Barnabas and Silas. So, now we're up to three new apostles after Matthias?

Plus, Paul refers to himself as an apostle in most of his letters.

In a way, this all makes sense. If Peter felt it was important to replace Judas Iscariot, he would very likely feel it was important to replace apostles who were dying during these times of persecution. I mean: why would he stop? The Church needed leaders, and it seemed important to have 12 apostles.

Oh, and what about Barsabas? He's the same as Barnabas, just now mentioned. So, though he was rejected at first, he later became an apostle. He's pictured above in a kind-of-silly picture. He's holding a book that couldn't possibly exist for at least another millennium. Perhaps one of his miracles as an apostle?

It then looks like Barnabas and Paul have a big fight and separate into different ministries. Oh well -- we're not all perfect.

So, one question some may ask is: where are the apostles today? The Catholic Church has a Pope, which is supposed to be like Peter, but where are the other twelve? Most Protestant churches may have a leader or president, but again ... no apostles. And I'm wondering: when did they become unimportant? 

We do know that after Acts, the persecution became so great that the apostles were basically wiped out -- faster than they could replace themselves. But why did more not get chosen as the Church continued to survive? Was it because of the lack of authority (apostasy)? Or was it because it was determined it was no longer necessary? When did the twelve become one?

Some of the newer Christian denominations also asked this question, and have chosen to institute twelve constant leaders as apostles. My church: the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is one of them. You can see their pictures here.

What other denominations do this? After some quick research, it looks like we have: other branches of the Church of Jesus Christ, such as the Community of Christ. Hmmm ... I'm struggling to find other churches that do this.

The Catholics seem to have a different view on this subject -- an Apostle (big "A") is someone who was chosen by Jesus and sent to minister and witness. There are no more Apostles because there are no leaders later on who knew Jesus personally. Catholics seem to consider Matthias as the 12th Apostle to replace Judas. By tradition, he's even credited in the Apostles' Creed. Barnabas, Paul, and others are deemed to be apostles (little "a") -- important ministers and leaders, but not one of the Twelve.

However, unlike the other 11, Matthias was not hand-picked by Jesus -- so he can't really be "equal" to the 11 in that regard. And Paul (as Saul) saw Jesus himself and was called to his work (similar to how the original twelve were called). So, needless to say, I do not really agree with that logic of the classifications described in the last paragraph. I don't see Paul as a "lesser" leader. I don't see why Peter wouldn't have replaced Stephen and other martyrs. And I see the organization of the Twelve to be fundamental to Christ's Church.

Any thoughts?

"Crucify Him"

In our weekly readings, we have finally finished the four Gospels, and to wrap up, I wanted to share some new insights I've gained. In particular: the moment when the crowds yelled "Crucify Him!" This time around I learned something strange to me...

Consider this. The Holy Week begins with a large crowd event: the triumphant entrance of Jesus on Palm Sunday.

Many shouted "Hosanna!" and laid down palm leaves. So much praising and rejoicing! How much I wish I could have been there to participate!

And then less than a week later, a large crowd gathered while Jesus stood for trial. Pilate asked, "Whom will ye that I release unto you? Barabbas, or Jesus which is called Christ?" (Matthew 27:17)" And the people answered "Barabbas."

Pilate asked, "What will ye than that I shall do unto [Jesus]?" And the people yelled, "Crucify Him!" (Luke 15:12-13) 

Pilate asked, "What evil has he done?" And the people yelled even louder: "Crucify Him!" (Luke 15:14)

Who are the people in each of the big crowds mentioned above? If you were to ask me a couple of months ago, I would have answered: "Palm Sunday consisted of the many followers of Christ. And the later crowd consisted of the religious leaders and their friends bent on destroying Christ."

But -- and here is the new idea -- what if it turns out that many of the people in both crowds were the same? At first, I'm thinking, "Surely not." Try this ... do a Google search on "hosanna crucify him same crowd," and you'll see tons of articles debating whether or not the same people were in both crowds.

An argument supporting this idea: A lot of people attended both events. In particular, the event the morning of Good Friday would have been widely attended, as the custom was to release a prisoner during the Passover festival. And the sound of "Crucify Him!" greatly drowned out the the people who may have been saying "Let Him go!" So, if most people attended the Good Friday event, and most in attendance yelled, "Crucify Him," it appears logical that there were many who said both "Hosanna" and "Crucify Him."

But how could this be? How does one go from "Hosanna" to "Crucify Him" in just a few days? Perhaps many lost faith with how things played out? Perhaps some thought the cleaning of the temple was too radical and misguided (attacking their religious foundations instead of the Romans)? Perhaps some figured that the True Messiah would not have allowed Himself to be captured and killed? Perhaps some saw Him as a charlatan who promised many things but then delivered nothing? Yeah -- of course they lacked understanding, but I'm just trying to imagine how many could turn so fast.

And then I realized: wait! I've witnessed something similar in my own life. It happened during the recent pandemic. Early on, there was a lot of confusion, and I decided to share my own talents. I was fascinated by the math and science -- two areas in which I'm very strong. So, I started sharing my own analyses on social media. Many of my friends decided to share my analyses -- asking me to make the posts "global" so their friends could see them. And the preambles they provided were similar: "Listen to this guy we knew in high school. He's really smart and an expert in math and science."

So, I was all: "Cool! They're listening to me." I seized this positive opportunity to help explain what was going on, and to hopefully save lives. 

But then something strange happened. About 90% of my friends turned on me. They started attacking my math and logic with strange arguments that made no sense. A sizable chunk decided to drop me. Several decided to be combative -- a large number of whom were members of my own church exhibiting non-Christian behavior. A few even shared with the world what I had said so they could ridicule it.

It was indeed an interesting turn of events. I was amazed at how quickly these friends went from "look at our really smart friend" to "look at how dumb he is." How could this happen so quickly?

And recently I found the answer in our scripture reading -- something I had entirely missed who knows how many times I had read these accounts before.

But the chief priests and elders persuaded the multitude that they should ask Barabbas, and destroy Jesus. (Matthew 27:20)

You see, the religious leaders had political motivations. Jesus Christ had appeared with the message: "You're doing things wrong." They saw Jesus as a threat to their position and power. It was a time when the religious leaders had become much more important than the Law itself. So much so that their interpretations of the Law had become a new corrupted Law. They didn't want Jesus to destroy what they had, so they chose to try and destroy Him. In other words: politics.

In order to achieve their goals, they used speech to deceive the multitudes. And the people happily believed what was said, and shouted, "Crucify Him!"

This is technically the same as what happened in my pandemic example. My friends knew beforehand how capable I was in math and science, and they even testified as much. But then political leaders saw an opportunity for political gain and made up very convincing lies. They were the ones who persuaded my friends to turn against me. And it all worked -- the lies helped many political leaders to maintain power.

I was amazed at how easily the lies worked in persuading people. I was even able to analyze how the lies were so successful. Did you know that some countries have made it a science to deceive and confuse, using artificial intelligence to come up with the best and most destructive lies?

And we all know this type of thing exists. It permeates our fiction and historical accounts.

Think of any depiction of a witch trial in any show. We see the protagonist on trial. We see the ones in charge saying the most ridiculous lies. And we also see their political aspirations -- killing "witches" is a way to show righteous indignation and maintain power among the masses. And we see practically everyone at the trial yelling "Burn her!" Sound familiar? It isn't very far removed from "Crucify Him!"

And think of the many shows where the bad guy deceives many to frame a good guy. The bad guy will say something in secret like, "The public is easily distracted," and then successfully convince everyone to hate the good guy, forcing him to run and try to redeem himself before being captured by the authorities. And sometimes like in the witch trials, these good guys perish.

As a show watcher, it's so easy to see the lies, and how they work. But when it happens in real life, why is it so much harder for us to recognize and resist the lies?

Seeing these connections, I begin to see how it was possible for so many to go from "Hosanna" to "Crucify Him." In fact, I can look back and see several instances where I, myself, have fallen victim to the lies of political leaders. In my pandemic example, I can see a few instances of where I had said something I later regretted.

And these examples make me wonder: if I had been in Jerusalem during that holy week, and after I had shouted "Hosanna," would I have had the strength to resist the political persuasions to yell "Crucify Him"? Perhaps I'll never know.

And now I'm understanding with much more clarity why my church is urgently asking us to be peacemakers these past few years. And yes -- it 100% comes down to politics and this same issue of political leaders using lies to persuade us to attack our opponents. So much so that we're literally yelling "Crucify Them!" 

In the case of Jesus, it was necessary to the Plan that the multitudes yell "Crucify Him." His ultimate sacrifice was key to our salvation. Though the multitude yelled, Jesus was well taken care of. His own salvation was set in stone.

But what of those of whom we yell "Crucify Them"? Are they similarly being taken care of? Do we unknowingly cause them to suffer unjustly from our own misguided judgement? We may never know if we would have joined the "Crucify Him" crowd, but we have plenty of opportunities to decide whether or not to join the "Crucify Them" crowds of today. And in a way, the latter may actually be the greater sin.

I believe due to my usual kind nature, I naturally avoid saying "Crucify Them," at least most of the time. I tend to keep friends among those who disagree with me. Because I realize that we're all in this together. Though -- I'm not perfect, and several times have allowed myself to get caught up in the hype.

I can see that this very issue weighs heavily on the minds of my church leaders. Over the past few years, they have increased the number of "peacemaker" talks in General Conferences. Our leaders see our division and hate, and are urging us more than usual to become one and unite, and to ... well ... stop saying "Crucify Them."

In our last General Conference, our prophet Russel M. Nelson, gave this highly recommended talk on being peacemakers that caught my attention. It echoes practically everything I've been saying. But get this. He said ...

At this point, you may be thinking that this message would really help someone you know. Perhaps you're hoping that it will help him or her to be nicer to you. I hope it will. But I also hope that you will look deeply into your heart to see if there are shards of pride or jealousy that prevent you from becoming a peacemaker.

In other words, President Nelson was saying to us: "You probably think I'm talking to your friend, but no -- I'm talking to you."

So, yeah -- when it comes down to it, only we, individually, can fix this. Only I can fix my own self and be more of a peacemaker. 

And again this comes back to today's political pressures. Our two major parties will continue to influence us. For example, both parties claim that they are the only way to survival. If you vote for the other party, it would be disastrous. Recently, I've even witnessed the rise of a new party: the Forward Party, which basically seeks to reconcile and to get everyone to work together: the only way to move "forward." And I would see them post on Twitter much of what I'm trying to say in this post: stop the hate, work together. And with practically every post, members of both major parties would respond with much viscera, reminding me why I can't align with any of those two parties ever again. They don't want success, but rather power and the political blood of their enemies, and we, the public, are their tools and means to get that power. And we are the losers. Our country is being torn apart. Whoever wins, we lose.

I was surprised to see the Church become much clearer in their push for unity. Every year, they publish a worldwide letter to be read in every church unit about political neutrality, and it's always interesting to note what gets inserted, and what gets taken away.

Here's the letter for 2023, signed by the First Presidency. The stuff in bold is new this year:

Members should also study candidates carefully and vote for those who have demonstrated integrity, compassion, and service to others, regardless of party affiliation. Merely voting a straight ticket or voting based on “tradition” without careful study of candidates and their positions on important issues is a threat to democracy and inconsistent with revealed standards (see Doctrine and Covenants 98:10). Information on candidates is available through the internet, debates, and other sources.

So, wow -- straight party voting is not good. What a concept. One thing I've noticed: as I've become an independent, myself, it's become a lot easier for me to see the lies and methods each party uses to persuade and deceive the public.

I should point out that the Church isn't asking us NOT to belong to a party, but it's the attitude we take on. If we accept everything blindly, that is bad. If, instead, we do our own research by studying the sources the Church mentions, we can make better decisions.

So how can we tell if we're falling into the "Crucify Them" trap? I recommend a self-check. If you see any of the following, it may be well considering course corrections:

• Am I unable to be friends with those who disagree with me?
• Do I condemn certain groups of people because of who they are or what they believe?
• Do I hate any prominent public figures?
• Do I vote straight ticket because that other party is just so evil?
• Do I tell someone they're going to hell because of how they voted?
• Do I listen to and believe everything prominent leaders tell us without doing my own research or trying to understand the other side?
• Am I actively participating in the current pandemic of division in the name of being "correct"?

The solution: don't allow ourselves to be persuaded by these wolves in sheep clothing. Do not ever yell "Crucify Them" of anyone. Love everyone and work together. Work out our differences and practice understanding, integrity, compassion, service, and love. We have the power now to be much better than the crowd that once yelled "Crucify Him" and we can really help the world to be a better place.