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.

Patriarchal Blessings

Today I gave a talk in church about patriarchal blessings. I expect that this will make much more sense to my Latter-day Saint friends, but it may also shed light to my other friends on a particular aspect of our Church that is largely absent in most other denominations -- or at least as far as I know. If this type of thing exists in other Christian churches or even in Judaism, please let me know -- I'd be most interested.

This is an approximation of what I said today ...

Hello everyone ... I'm Mel Windham.

Here in my hand, I hold one of my most prized possessions: my own original copy of my patriarchal blessing.

I remember that day well: September 15, 1984. I was 15 years old -- 10th grade. I remember nothing at all about my preparation, other than -- I think I fasted. My mother and I went to see Patriarch Evans. He spoke with both of us individually. And then he asked me if I wished for my mother to be in the room when he gave me my blessing. I said, "No. This is my blessing." I knew this blessing was personal, and I wished for there to be no other distractions. So, she waited in the other room. 

The Spirit was strong, and it felt like it went on for a long time, and then some of my questions were answered, while others weren't. At times I seemed to see visions of some of the blessings being fulfilled in the future.

When it was all over, my mother came back into the room and we talked about the experience. I knew the blessing came from God, but I didn't know what it meant. It would then take me a lifetime to understand what it would mean for me. 

This is just the beginning of my story, and I have more to tell. 

But first, what is a patriarchal blessing?

President Monson taught that it is a personal Liahona to help guide us through our lives. President Nelson taught it is scripture personal to us, tying us to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. And the same blessings promised to them also fall upon us. Thus we can all benefit from our own patriarchal blessing -- just like Abraham blessing his children. 

This year in "Come Follow Me," there's a resource in the very last section on Patriarchal Blessings -- after "December." It explains further that we shouldn't share our blessings in public, and only we can interpret our own blessings. Not bishops, and not even the patriarch who gave us the blessing. Only we can interpret and come to fully understand.

And here's one other new thing I learned. Did you know there is no age limit for receiving this blessing? The Handbook explains:

Every worthy, baptized member is entitled to receive one. That means an 8-yr-old could receive one.

However, we should be mature enough to understand the significance and sacred nature of the blessing, and understand basic doctrine. Ideally, we should receive the blessing before we make many important decisions. This is why most get their blessings in their teen years. Like me -- I was 15.

As there's no minimum age, there's also no maximum age. It's never too late. As long as there are decisions left to be made, we are eligible, and we can benefit from further direction.

So, how does my personal story end? It hasn't. Looking back, I can see how I've internalized my blessing and how it has influenced many of my decisions, which in turn has determined many of my blessings in life. It has shaped my own life mission -- that is, the real things I'm trying to accomplish in life. It has provided me with direction -- in other words, it feels like I'm always improving and getting to where I need to be, and I can see, mostly, what comes next, and what I need to work on. I know who I am, and what I'm supposed to do.

Though, recently I've gone years without looking at my blessing. I only pulled it out for this talk and gave it a fresher analysis with more mature eyes. Yeah -- me mature -- heh!

I notice that 80% of it consists of mainly general blessings, advice, and promises we hear every year as we attend church. Honor your parents, say your prayers, honor the priesthood, magnify your callings, study the scriptures, and so on. I think I've noticed it before, and wondered what makes the blessing so special. If we hear this in church, why do we need our own copy of the same thing?

But this time I noticed what wasn't in there. Turns out to be a lot. Nothing about home teaching or ministering. Nothing about tithing, doing service projects, or raising my family. It's not that these things aren't important to me -- I pay my tithing. I try to do ministering, but I'm not the best. I used to do service projects until everything started hurting. I think I did well raising my kids. [I look over at my wife, and she's getting all emotional.] 

It's just that my life mission is very particular -- based on my personal talents, desires, and knowledge. God gave me a list of items to concentrate on -- specific to my life's mission.

You all probably have a different list of advice and admonitions in your blessings, and different omissions. Try thinking about what's in there and what's missing to see how it fits your own life's mission.

And then there are the parts specific to me. As you may guess, there's a whole paragraph on music, and reading it now, I can see I've only just begun what I'm about to accomplish. Several times it mentions the same words here and there. It seems to see that through my music, words, actions, determination, and attitude, I'm supposed to ... Oh -- oops! I was about to tell you what it says. Remember how I said this is supposed to be personal? I guess it's too bad... Though it's going to be really cool.

One more part of my story -- did you know that you can request the patriarchal blessings of your deceased ancestors? Go check it out. I recommend it. When I learned this I wanted to see my father's patriarchal blessing. He was a great guy. He was smart. He taught me the rules of logic and critical thinking. He helped me to be one of those prodigy geniuses. But he always struggled through life and with the Church. He smoked, and drank, and eventually left our family. Toward the end of his life, he started returning to the Church, but he still died alone. Dreams unfulfilled. No companion to be with him at the end.

So I awaited his patriarchal blessing. Where did he go wrong? What was promised to him? What could have been? And then after a few weeks, I got the email. His blessing didn't exist. He never got one. And now it makes sense. No direction in life. That was a sad day for me.

Well, I suppose that's my story ... so far. So now, I'd like you to think about your own story. You may recognize some of the source material from Elder Bennet's talk in the last Conference: "Your Patriarchal Blessing -- Inspired Direction from Heavenly Father." I recommend checking it out. He said: if you don't have a patriarchal blessing, pray about your readiness, what you need to get ready, and go get one. If you do have a patriarchal blessing, pull it out and study it. If you've lost your copy, you can request a replacement copy.

As baptized members, we are all entitled to our own personal Liahona and personal direction from God. <Close with quick testimony>

Upcoming Adventures of Elder Elder and Elder Benjamin

This is just a small announcement. Up to now, I've written four adventures for Elder Elder and Elder Benjamin. You can catch up and see all of them here.

And I have thirty more episodes planned. Yeah ... that's right. Thirty. I finished up a planning session today, and I've laid everything out over the full five-month period from 1989-12-14 to 1990-05-09.

Up to now I had chosen four random stories that stuck out -- some of my more favorite episodes -- to get things going. But now I will start going in chronological order for more continuity. And yeah -- I'll probs put this together into a book when I'm done. 

The stories to come will show even more aspects of the mission life -- some good times, some not-so-good times. Some happy moments and sad moments, and even having to deal with everyday items in a strange land. And you'll get to learn more about the Elders and their roommates. In some cases, these other minor characters can be quite interesting -- something I may have failed to capture, but don't worry -- it's on the way.

And I'll warn you now: the last episode is going to be a tear-jerker. Seeing how that'll most likely be a couple of years away, you'll probably forget this warning, but yeah -- I warned you.

In the end there will be 34 episodes of Elder Elder and Elder Benjamin, and the world will NOT be the same. As I add more episodes, you can always see the full list here.

Now it's time for me to get back to writing!

Can a Rich Man Enter Heaven?

Here's another big question I've had growing up in the Church. What does it mean when Jesus says it's hardly possible for a rich person to enter heaven? This seems to be a big paradox to me, which I'll explain...

First, in Matthew 19, a rich man approaches Jesus and says he's followed the Law of Moses and the commandments. He asks: "what lack I yet?" (verse 20). And then Jesus suggests that he sell everything he has and give it to the poor.

In response, the rich man walks away in sorrow.

And Jesus says to his disciples:

... a rich man shall hardly enter into the kingdom of heaven. (Matthew 19:23)

Ouch! Sounds a little harsh. Jesus continues on ...

... It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God. (Matthew 19:24)

Pouring salt on that wound! I'm not sure what the definition of a rich man is -- but I'm getting a little worried here. It's worth noting: many believe the words "eye of a needle" refers not to an actual needle, but rather a small passageway in some walls of Jerusalem. It's small enough for a human to pass -- but good luck getting a camel through there. This changes the meaning of His statement: rather than basically saying "impossible," he refers to a concept in which a task is feasibly possible with enough effort.

And if "rich" means: "anyone who is not poor, homeless, etc.", then a lot of us are in trouble. But this doesn't make sense. If everyone were to sell everything they own -- well, for starters, who would buy the stuff (as they wouldn't be going to heaven)? And how could any meaningful society function?

Perhaps the disciples were thinking along the same lines when they asked:

Who then can be saved? (Matthew 19:25)

And Jesus' answer:

With men this is impossible; but with God all things are possible. (Matthew 19:26)

Okay: so we have a chance?

In my case: I'm richer than some, but there are many who make hundreds and thousands times more what I do. I give a chunk of my money to charity. I also have a mission, which is to help change lives and help to raise others up through music and the written word. This all requires money. I need to be able to support my family, and my mission is evidently not a self-supporting steady stream of income, so I must get "rich" through other means if I have any hope of succeeding in my mission.

And I observe many rich people in my Church. Following its teachings -- especially those centering on self-reliance, it's easy to become successful and "rich." And many of these members also donate a large chunk of their money to charity. And I often see them providing service without pay -- helping neighbors in need, participating in service projects, etc.

Surely all of these people aren't doomed to fall short of heaven because of their successes.

Then again, if I flip my view outside the Church ... outside of Christianity ... outside of any religion, I see a big correlation between richness and a lack of faith. I've seen many who feel no need to believe in any kind of God. Maybe they give to charity, or maybe they're just too busy living their extravagant life style. Why does one need religion when they already find happiness in all the things and events surrounding them in their everyday life?

Perhaps this is what Jesus is talking about?

But then again, the rich guy visiting Jesus seemed to already believe and was already taking action to show his faith -- like what I do. So, then I start worrying again. I can't sell all my stuff. I can't do that to my family. I can't give up my stewardship. I can't turn myself into some hermit monk who'd have absolutely no power to help others while selfishly cutting myself off from interacting with others while trying to obtain some enlightenment that would maybe gain me entrance into the kingdom of heaven. That doesn't sound like the way one should gain salvation.

Okay -- I'm still trying to figure this whole thing out. Y'all got any ideas?

P. S.: After I had typed up this quick post -- it kept bugging me: hadn't I already written about this? Sure enough -- two years ago, this is what I wrote. A lot of it is the same, but there are enough differences that this version is worth publishing.

The Adventures of Elder Elder and Elder Benjamin: The Ugly Ties

 

The Ugly Ties

April 16, 1990

I realize the main reason you read these stories is to get a healthy dose of Elder Benjamin, but today’s story is going to be mainly about me, Elder Elder, but don’t worry. I’ll bring in Elder Benjamin a little later on — I promise.

But first, we need to go way back into the past near the beginning of my mission, at a time I could hardly speak the language, when I had to rely on my senior companions.

Early 1989 or maybe even late 1988? You’ll never know.

Yeah, I’m going to obscure the date in this story, because I’m going to talk about one of my senior companions, Elder Scrooge. And yeah — that isn’t his real name, but you can probably guess which way this story is going to go. I’m not going to reveal his identity, and giving an exact date would do just that. And by the time I’m done with him, I don’t think you’re going to like him.

Though, I should let you know upfront: He was actually a good guy. Everyone has their Elder Scrooge — someone you just don’t get along with. Some missionaries just brush off the experience and move on, but for others it can be a devastating event, even leading to PTSD. It’s not necessarily that the companion is a terrible person, but rather just a simple clash of personalities.

I may have mentioned that Elder Benjamin was by far my favorite companion in my entire mission. Well, Elder Scrooge was the antithesis of this. He was two months of pure torture. And if I had my choices, I would have chosen another companion.

However, in another way, the lessons I learned in those two months were tremendously valuable later on in life — for all the times I must interact with people who don’t quite like me. Because of Elder Scrooge, I now know how to gain the respect of people who disagree with me, and how to find ways to push forward.

It took me nearly the whole two months to realize Elder Scrooge was indeed a good person, after which I came to understand him, and I believe he finally came to understand me. And you know what? I was probably his Elder Scrooge as well.

So — now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, let’s get back to the story. Let’s destroy Elder Scrooge.

I first met him when the whole district picked me up on Transfer Day.

The tallest missionary held out his hand. “Hi Elder Elder. I’m Elder Patterson, the district leader.”

I shook his hand. “Hey, Elder Patterson.”

“And this is your new companion, Elder Scrooge.”

He shook my hand. “Hey Elder Elder. Good to meet you.”

Then Elder Patterson said, “And this is my companion — still green. Elder Bob.”

I shook his hand, too. “Hey Elder Bob. Is that really your last name?”

“Yeah.” He laughed. “It confuses people back home. So many people call me Bob. And what about your name? Elder Elder? That’s not confusing. At least in Korean it’s Elder changno.”

“I know. Otherwise it would be: Elder Elder Elder Elder Elder …”

Elder Bob laughed, but Elder Scrooge frowned. “All right, stop it you guys. We need to act like Elders.”

That interaction didn’t phase me much at the time. As the senior missionary, he was simply guiding us greenies in our interactions. But I did find it weird that he said nearly nothing to me on our bus ride back to our household.

I didn’t fully realize I was in trouble till the next day when we had our morning household prayer. Throughout my whole mission, we missionaries did this every morning — a quick prayer, hymn, and reading out of the missionary handbook, and sometimes a spiritual thought.

And here, I always shined during the hymn singing. As I may have mentioned before, I’m musically inclined — perfect pitch, good sight-reader, composer, and contagious. While most missionaries sang the melody in unison, I would get them to sing in parts. Most of the time, all it took was for me to sing bass, and eventually another would throw in tenor, and sometimes a modified alto. And it would become a thing in these morning hymn singings. It was always a positive experience, and no one ever complained — all the many times I had done this before and after my mission as well.

Well — except for this one singular time …

The hymn was 243 (149 in Korean), “Let Us All Press On,” which is famous for it’s dividing lines in the chorus. As the sopranos continue the melody with “Fear not, though the enemy deride,” the other three parts sing entirely different rhythms — a rather cool effect not present in most hymns.

So, I did what I did best. When it came to the chorus, I followed the bass. The others kept singing the melody while I sang my own distinct rhythms. Halfway through the chorus, Elder Scrooge elbowed me, and said, “Sing harmony.” And he went back to singing.

Interesting. Wasn’t I hitting the bass notes perfectly? And I heard the others singing better. What was he talking about? So I kept on singing the bass. And again he elbowed me, this time harder. “Sing harmony with the rest of us.” The other two elders eyed us disapprovingly.

I stopped and said, “I am singing harmony.” 

“No you’re not.”

“Right here …,” I said, pointing to the music. “I’m singing the bass notes.”

“That’s not harmony.” Needless to say: the hymn had fallen apart.

“Yes it is,” I said.

In an angry mock-quiet whisper, he said, “You’re making a scene. We’ll talk about this after our meeting.”

It was good I wasn’t the one to say the prayer next. Elder Scrooge knew nothing about music. The word he meant to say was: “unison.” That’s what it’s called when everyone sings the same note — usually the melody. Harmony is when people sing different notes, but together, the whole sounds nice. Cacophony is when people sing differently and none of it makes sense. For some reason, I guess that’s what he heard — like I was destroying the Spirit showing off my skills. Ironically, it was he who had introduced cacophony when he talked and interrupted a perfectly nice thing.

When I tried to explain it to him, he would have none of it. He wasn’t interested in a music lesson, so he cut me off, reminding me that he was the senior, and I had to do what he said.

From that day forward, at the suggestion of Elder Patterson, I decided to sing unison in an effort to keep the peace. But in my stubbornness, I allowed it to be a daily reminder of my resentment; and also my frustration, as I knew I could be sharing my special talents to strengthen the Spirit and our relationships. But as it was, the Spirit would be visiting other households for the next two months.

A couple of weeks later.

We received a phone call, and Elder Patterson handed it to me. It was the ponbu (the mission office). Elder Simon, the AP (another missionary as assistant to the President), told me there was a nationwide music contest in Pusan, and they wanted me to enter in the spirit of outreach.

“So, what do you think?” asked Elder Simon. “Can we enter you into this contest?”

“Sure,” I said. “But I don’t have any music with me. I’ll have to compose something. That’s going to take some time.”

“Well,” he said. “You have a week. Is that enough time?”

“Maybe. I’ll have to find time throughout the day. Elder Scrooge calls the shots.”

“We can arrange it. Please put your companion on the phone.”

I was probably smiling too much when I handed Elder Scrooge the phone. He didn’t look happy. I couldn’t help feeling a little vindicated. This time he had to do what I needed to be done.

“But we’re incredibly busy,” said Elder Scrooge on the phone. “We have new member discussions, and we’re behind on our Mormon Gyeong’s.” This was a half-truth. We didn’t really do that much beyond hanging around a newly baptized high school kid, Kang-su. He had a lot of questions about the Church, supposedly, but somehow it always turned into sightseeing.

“Okay,” said Elder Scrooge. “I understand. It’s important. Sure. We’ll find time.”

A win for me! Keep in mind that we were required to accompany each other 24 hours of the day. This is true of all missionaries worldwide — taking to heart the scripture references of “two by two.” So, I didn’t have the option to disappear alone to the church and compose all day long while Elder Scrooge proselyted.

As I was to find out, these orders from the mission office still didn’t give me the authority to take over. As the senior companion, Elder Scrooge still had to dictate when I got to compose. It also meant nothing was going to happen that day, because he had to think about when I could compose.

The next day, Elder Scrooge found time for us go shopping for music paper. When I had started my mission, I had promised myself that I would set aside composing over the next two years so I could concentrate more on the Lord’s work. So, I had left all my music at home. But since I was now given a special mission to compose, it was okay to break that promise — or rather, adjust it.

We went to a cheap bookstore, and I found a cheap spiral-bound notation book. It said AMADEUS in English on the front and featured a pointillistic depiction of a conductor. On the inside: twelve staves per page (much better than the popular ten), and cute Korean markings at the top for titles and composer names.

Immediately afterward, we went to the church. While I composed, Elder Scrooge had arranged to meet Kang-su to give him the next new member discussion. So, I sat at the piano in the makeshift chapel, on the second floor above a grocery store. At the same time, Elder Scrooge sat in the same chapel with Kang-su, pretending to give a discussion. To me it looked like their usual playing around: telling jokes and stories to each other.

And so I composed. I chose an arrangement of A-ri-rang, the most famous Korean folk tune. They told me to do something Korean, and I had already announced that I would arrange a “traditional folk song.” It was going to be short, and it wouldn’t take me long to compose. All I would need was three hours tops. In a way, it felt that I was in heaven again: putting pencil to paper and shaping music.

After just one hour, Elder Scrooge cut me off. “It’s time for lunch. Let’s go. Did you finish it?”

“I’ve just started.”

“Seriously? How hard can it be? I thought you were a composer. Maybe we can come back tomorrow. We have a busy day today.”

A busy day doing nothing, really. And I didn’t get any time to compose the next day.

I suppose I could continue giving all the gory details, but I think you get the picture. At this time, you’re probably wondering, “What does any of this have to do with ugly ties?” and we’re already halfway through the story. We’ll get there. I may not be the best story teller, but I promise to bring everything together by the end. But yeah — let’s skip the next few days.

One week later

I didn’t get my three hours to compose. I did get in one more session that didn’t last long. In the eyes of Elder Scrooge, I had had sufficient time.

The day of the contest, I went over Elder Scrooge’s head and arranged with Elder Patterson to get us all there one hour early so I could finish the arrangement. Since all four of us got to go, it was Elder Patterson’s decision.

Unfortunately, the trip to Pusan took a few minutes longer, and it took us at least twenty minutes to find a piano where I could compose, so that hour quickly became less than half an hour. And I hurried to finish the composition — I had already written down the beginning and the end. I also had most of a middle part, which imitated the Chopin music I heard every day in Korea as students practiced with their windows open. However, I didn’t have the transition from middle to end. If I had 30 uninterrupted minutes, I could have pulled it off, but all three elders were talking — about me — and my procrastination till the last minute. Very distracting, and I couldn’t compose well when I was angry.

When I wasn’t finished yet, Elder Patterson said, “We’re being called in. Time’s up.” Dang! The idea was in my head — I could probably ad-lib the last transition into the ending, but on national TV? And I was already feeling butterflies in my stomach. No — I couldn’t trust myself. I would have to do something drastic: play something else I had memorized. But what?

I didn’t make my final decision until I was on stage. The host asked where I was from, and then he said, “I hear you’re going to play variations on a famous folk song. What are you going to play?”

I smiled and answered, “See if you can guess.” I still didn’t know. It wasn’t too late for A-ri-rang. I could still wing the transition. But as I sat, I found myself pushing my music aside, and I played the third movement of my sonatina, which sounds a lot like Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. In the style of Mozart, I played it up - doing all the faces and dramatics. There was laughter, and then clapping at the end.

The host said, “That was great. Thank you!” and he motioned for me to leave the stage.

I made my way up to where the elders were sitting in the balcony. All three of them seemed to ignore me while at sat down. About a minute later, Elder Scrooge said, “I though you were going to play A-ri-rang.”

I answered, “I went with another folk song.”

No one else spoke: not even a “good job.” Maybe it was because the next act had started.

The talent show continued. A woman danced while playing Korean drums. Some people sang. One guy did a magic trick. A kid played the piano — something classical — cute but a few mistakes.

When the show was over, the awards came. There were twelve contestants and six prizes to give. They started with sixth place, so I was happy not to be one of the first ones called. After third place, I was getting a little nervous. The kid who played piano got second place. So, this was it. I either got the big prize: first place, or I got nothing. And it was … the Korean drums lady.

What? That classical kid wasn’t really that great.

“Oh well,” said Elder Patterson.

Elder Scrooge said, “You really should have stuck with A-ri-rang.”

Elder Bob said, “Is it time to go yet?”

On the way out, some Korean producers caught up to us. He excitedly said something fast — too fast for me to understand him. Then he turned to Elder Patterson and tried again.

Then Elder Patterson explained to me. “They messed up. They called the wrong piano contestant. It was you who really won second place. He wants to show you the prize you won.”

The producer led us into the department store section of the building, which had several floors. In the clothing department, he showed us an expensive fashionable jacket — very nice. However, by American standards, it was very feminine, and I didn’t want to wear it. The producer understood, and then gave us equivalent store credit. “Buy whatever you want.”

Elder Scrooge groaned, but he had no choice but to tag along while I chose my gift. I knew I had to choose quickly, but I also knew what I wanted. To the electronics department!

I found it: a nice compact, cool radio/tape player — the kind you could put in your pocket. However, it didn’t cost enough. I had to get something else.

So, I shopped sheet music. I found a copy of George Winston’s December, something that wasn’t available yet in the US. I also bought a Prokofiev book and a Chopin book, and that wiped out the rest of my credit.

Eventually Elder Patterson did say, “Good job, Elder.”

After which, Elder Scrooge said, “I can’t believe you wore that ugly tie today.”

And you know what? I really couldn’t argue on that point. All of my ties were ugly. They were either all strange colors or super fat. I don’t think I owned any skinny ties. I had perhaps one decent black tie, but when combined with my usual black suit, it looked like I was going to a funeral. For the contest, I chose a tie that had a lot of red, yellow, and blue to honor the Korean flag. The funny thing was, the colors were so disorganized, I don’t think anyone ever saw it as being “Korean.”

Right before my mission

My mom bought most of my ties. Before my mission, most of my ties were clip-ons. But when I became a priest at 16, my mom figured I needed to upgrade to real ties. She took me in to buy a new suit, and the guy in the store taught me how to tie a Windsor knot, which I picked up very quickly. My mom bought two ties on the spot, and those replaced my clip-ons. To this day, I use nothing but the Windsor, as I still don’t know how to do the half-Windsor or any of those other knots.

And as you could guess, fat ugly ties with full Windsor knots are fat blobs of ugliness under the neck.

Over the next couple of years, I would help pick out a couple more ties, and they would always be full of crazy bright colors. And when my mother went mission shopping without me, she bought a whole bunch of similar ties. So, I’m not sure if I should blame my mother or myself. At the time, it didn’t matter, as I personally loved those ties, and I always wanted to stand out.

My favorite tie had all the colors of the rainbow. It reminded me of my favorite musical at the time: Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. But alas, that tie didn’t survive Elder Heimuli. One day he accidentally spilled something on it, and he felt so bad he tried to fix it himself. He put it through the washer and then tried to dry it with an iron. It didn’t work.

And oh — I’m sure you’ve heard about the common missionary tradition of tie exchanging. About every 4-to-6 weeks, we would have transfers. And whenever anyone left to another area, we were supposed to exchange ties. It was a way of remembering each other while building up a larger variety of ties.

Well … during my entire two years on my mission, not a single one of my districts participated in this tradition. One time a greenie suggested it, but the other two missionaries in the house shot down the idea quickly with some lame made-up excuse. In hindsight I can see why. And to be honest, I didn’t want to part from my unique ties.

Back to Elder Scrooge

Anyway, you get the picture. Elder Scrooge didn’t like my ties, and it seemed like he didn’t like me either. But it did get better. He started going out of his way to be nice, and he even allowed me to sing harmony. So, the two worst months of my best two years weren’t in vain. He could have done better, and I could have been less stubborn, but ultimately we did learn to have respect for each other. Valuable lessons learned.

And the best part: I had my own fancy radio tape player to remember it all.

Now that you have the background, we can finally get to our real story.

Back to April 16, 1990

“What are you thinking about, Elder Elder Elder Elder Elder …?”

Yes. There he is. Elder Benjamin! The four of us were returning home after a fun P-day. That’s short for Preparation Day, which was the one day each week we got to rest from proselyting, giving us time to write letters, sightsee, and whatever else we felt we needed to do to relax and prepare. Today it had been another hike on Apsan Mountain.

“Oh, nothing,” I responded. “I’m not thinking about anything.”

“You’re staring at nothing,” said Elder Benjamin.

Elder Riley asked, “Did you get a Dear John letter?”

“Thinking about those Mormon Gyeong goals?” asked Elder Johnston as we approached our new apartment.

“Come on,” I said. “I’m not …”

“Hey — wait guys,” said Elder Riley. “Look at our window!” He pointed up to our second-story apartment and broken glass.

“What? How?” said Elder Johnston. “Somebody’s in there? Let’s get ‘em!” 

Elders Riley and Johnston charged toward the stairs, but then Elder Benjamin yelled, “Stop!” which shocked all of us. He never yelled.

“The Spirit tells me not to go in there.”

“What?” said Elder Johnston. “Why? Too dangerous?”

“The Spirit says we need help.”

“Seriously?” said Elder Riley. “They’re taking our stuff. What about all that money we just pulled out of the bank? We can’t afford to lose it. And we still haven’t finished unpacking after our big move. They’re going to take everything!”

“Something bad will happen if we go in there,” said Elder Benjamin.

“Somebody followed us home from the bank,” said Elder Johnston. “And they waited for us to be gone a long time. Maybe they’re already gone.”

Elder Benjamin’s eyes were wide — his usual spiritual face. “They’re still in there. I know it.”

I said, “No Ji-su lives near us. Let’s go get him. He’ll know what to do.”

We went to apartment of Ji-su, who was one of the church members — a strong man in his early thirties. He answered the door quickly, and when he heard of our plight, he grabbed a baseball bat and went with us back to our apartment.

Our door was wide open. Ji-su went in first. He yelled something in Korean — something I didn’t understand. We missionaries weren’t taught very many words that didn’t relate to our work or everyday living. After half a minute, we felt safe to go inside, while Ji-su continued his search through our rooms.

The several moving boxes we had laying out in the main living room were open, and stuff was thrown everywhere: mostly clothes and books.

“Nobody’s in here!” yelled Ji-su from our room. “They went through everything.”

“They heard us outside,” said Elder Benjamin. “When we left to go get help, they left. And no one stopped them.”

“We could have stopped them,” said Elder Riley.

“No,” said Elder Johnston. “I think Elder Benjamin just saved our lives.”

Ji-su left to go fetch the police, and we went through all our stuff, taking inventory.

Elder Benjamin and I went to our room. Every drawer in my dresser was opened. The first thing I looked for — my radio tape recorder — was gone. Two of my wallets were emptied of their money, but all other cards and pictures remained. That was nice of our assailants. And yeah — I don’t remember why I had so many extra wallets. My mother was going to be upset, as we weren’t really any kind of rich, and I had just taken a month’s worth of money out of the bank.

“They took all my money,” said Elder Riley from the other room.

“They took my suits, and left me with just one,” said Elder Johnston.

“They got all of my ties,” said Elder Benjamin.

“Me too,” said Elder Riley.

“Let me look,” said Elder Johnston. “Oh, crap! Seriously?”

I ran to my own closet and said, “Interesting. They didn’t take any of my ties.”

Elder Riley laughed. “Why am I not surprised?”

Stayed tuned for more adventures coming soon!

Full list of stories available here.