Addresses

Just wanted to record some old addresses...or parts thereof...

457 E. Bradley Ave. El Cajon

1198? N. Anza Street El Cajon

Highway 52 Raymond

457 East Bradley Ave. El Cajon

600 South Provo

#47 - 8740 Maple Grove Crescent Burnaby

3745 Sutherland St. Poco

14 Deerpath Road SE Calgary

908 16th St SE High River

98 E 1750 North Orem

483 E 2000 S Orem

Myth Contemplation #3

This week I finished reading a book called A Farewell to Mars: An Evangelical Pastor's Journey Toward the Biblical Gospel of Peace by Brian Zahnd. This book, just published in 2014, was a really interesting read. I thought that the title was a play on the title Ernest Hemingway used for his war novel A Farewell to Arms and that is partially true. But as Zahnd continued with his discussion of how the gospel of Jesus Christ and the constant warmongering of the United States of America are at odds with each other, it hit me --duh! Mars! The God of War.

Zahnd himself had been solidly behind the United States’ policy on war for many years. He was one of the pastors who, after 9/11, prayed publicly with his congregation in support of US action against the enemy, who were not the actual terrorists, but the people of Islam dehumanized and turned into the other, into “them” in a war that pitted “them” against “us.” But Zahnd’s further study of the four gospels have led him to understand that Jesus doesn’t necessarily want his kingdom of peace to come in some distant future in heaven, when we are all dead. Rather, he wants us to follow Christ’s teachings now and have peace on earth now.

It is not until Chapter Eight that Zahnd finally discusses how he arrived at the title for his book. He quotes from the forward Hemingway wrote to “A Farewell to Arms” where he says that wars are “made, provoked and initiated by straight economic rivalries and by swine that stand to profit from them.” (175). Zahnd has come to see our modern day wars in that same light. Someone always stands to profit from war, and it really isn’t the people who fight the wars or the civilians who are hurt by being in the way of war. Those who profit are, to Zahnd, followers of what he calls ‘the satan”--they are worshippers of war and not followers of Christ. But too often they try to pass themselves off as followers of Christ waging holy wars. Zahnd does not think these ideas are compatible.

Zahnd discusses how Ares, the Greek god of war, was often feared or held in contempt. Ares was not a happy or loveable god.  Even Zeus, in the Illiad, admits in lines 5:890-891 to hating Ares. Maybe that is too strong a word, hate--but at least that Ares at war is not seen as a positive idea.  But, according to Zahnd, the Romans had a different take on their god of war, Mars. Mars was loved and celebrated, and temples and statues were built to honor him.  He was considered a favorite, and even as a Father figure to the Roman people. He was the father of Romulus and Remus, the founding figures of Rome.

In the Roman worldview, Mars was a bringer of peace, even though his method of getting to peace was through war. Zahnd suggests that war creates a false peace, because the peace after a war is one of fear, terror, demoralization, weariness--not actual peace. For example, he points to the war in Viet Nam.  58,000 Americans died in that pointless war that was supposed to “save” the world from communism. But the communists won that war, the Viet Cong ruled Viet Nam...and then, later, due to changed lives and prayers of good people, communism fell in a peaceful way. Those lost lives and many, many years of war were just a manifestation of impatience for things to go America’s way--coupled with war profiteering on the part of unknown “swine” (to quote Hemingway) who made money through manufacturing and selling weapons of war during those long years of the Viet Nam war.

Zahnd says “Whenever war is given sanctity in the name of God, Mars is there. Whenever military might is wedded with religious rhetoric, Mars is there” (176). I have to admit that I sometime feel uncomfortable with some of the prayers that I have heard prayed in churches and temples during the last decade of war against the people of Islam, who are for the most part ordinary peace-loving people just like us. Sometimes I have not been able to say “Amen”--I just knew that I was uncomfortable with the prayers. I did not think about Mars being there, a false god instead of the true God who loves all of his children. I am sure that in mosques across the sea, Mars was there in answer to some prayers instead of Allah, because both sides in a conflict ask for the help of God, and both sides think they are entitled to that help because they are “right.”

The most shocking thing to me was when Zahnd talked about the modern temple to Mars that stands in Colorado Springs, Colorado.  Of course, that is not its actual name: it is called the Air Force Academy Cadet Chapel. This structure seriously looks like fighter jets about to take off. The architecture is really cool until you consider that it is supposed to be a house of worship—and not a house of warship. Would a god of peace, a god who taught that we should love our neighbors as ourselves; who taught that if we are offended we should turn the other cheek, really love this design? I think Mars, the god of war, would approve. Jesus, not so much. Inside the chapel, there is a cross. That cross is made from a sword with a propeller as the cross-piece. Zahnd sees this as "Mars mashed-up with Jesus. The god of war subsuming the Prince of Peace" (178).

Zahnd’s book has given me so much to think about, and I am really uncomfortable with lots of the thoughts that I am thinking. We all like to think that we are past worshipping false gods, especially people who are active LDS.  Now I was not raised in the United States, and so I am already pretty uncomfortable with the rabid patriotism (often with eyes and ears closed to evidence that maybe, just maybe, the United States is not actually holier-than-thou), so this book kind of resonated with me. I like peace. I do not like war. I do not want to be worshipping Mars, when I should be worshipping God the Father and his son, the Prince of Peace. 

I really need a GPS, apparently

Every time I go anywhere, and I get lost, which is pretty often, someone will say, "You really need to get a GPS." When I posted about our creative way crossing the border from Alberta, lots of people said that.

Tonight was another time I could have used a GPS. Josie and I were attending the funeral of our friend Chalece's baby girl. It was in Lehi. I looked up the address online and looked at the map, and just jotted down a couple of directions because the church that was our destination was right by my son David's house. Right beside it. I have driven past it numerous times. No brainer, right?

Because here is the church in relation to David's street:

So of course, I accidentally took the wrong exit. I took Lehi main, and not understanding how Lehi is laid out in comparison to the freeway, went completely the wrong way. I neglected to write down the address of the church, I did not know David's address, only how to get there, but not how to get there from somewhere in Lehi when I didn't know where I was.

Josie saved me by texting David to get his address, so she could get her internet GPS on her phone to help me find my way. I had NO IDEA that Lehi Main was where it was compared to David's house. What a revelation!

We got to the church a bit (a tiny bit--because LOST) early, and picked up a program, and Josie said, "Mom, did the Cards move to Lehi? Because look at their bishop's name..."

So, we waited for the bishop to come in with the family to see which David Card it was--it could have been anyone, because David is a pretty common name and Card is as well--but it was young David! He did a great job taking care of the funeral, by the way, and it was nice to talk to him and his wife Sarah afterwards.

It was a beautiful, touching funeral. It was nice to see some of our Indonesian friends there. (And although they were a bit late, it wasn't because they got lost, because "We have a GPS"!!!)  If anyone would like to contribute to expenses for the medical care this little baby needed during her short life, there is a fund raising page here.

Myth Contemplation #2

Myth Contemplation #2

In class last week, we compared the creation myths found in Hesiod’s Theogony, Ovid’s Metamorphoses and Genesis in the Holy Bible. This exercise got me thinking: do many cultures on this earth share similar creation myths? Or are the stories vastly different from culture to culture? I am, of course, no expert on the subject, but it has been interesting to do a bit of research and find similarities and differences in creation myths.  

Starting with the account in Genesis, and thinking about the LDS approach to the creation story, I looked on lds.org, and found an article written by a BYU religion professor, Keith Meservy. His article “Four Accounts of Creation” points out that even within our own religion, the creation stories that are a part of our scriptures are not exactly the same. As Meservy says, “There is always more to be learned from another recital of anything of value.” The creation story as told in Genesis asserts that God created all things, that man and woman were made in the image of God, that mankind has responsibility to the Earth and all the life upon it. In Moses, there is evidence that God was not singular, for Jehovah was with God the Father and a partner in the creation. Abraham clarifies that the creation takes place not from nothing, but from something: matter unorganized. The creation story as told in the temple helps us to understand the relationship between God, Jehovah and Adam--so the relationship of mankind to the Gods. Though the stories are not all precisely the same, they all can add to our understanding, AsMeservy puts it, “Details from one embellish those of the others, ultimately giving us a fuller picture, a broader understanding, and a deeper appreciation.”

So, what do the creation myths of other cultures beyond Greek and Roman have to add to ideas about creation?  Too much for one short paper, that’s for sure.  So here is just a little bit about one question, what was there before the world was created? Something or nothing?

In Japan, as in Geek and Roman mythology, there is chaos, but the chaos is more like a muddy sea than a void or a chasm. From this, a plant grows and become a god who creates many other gods before finally two, a man and a woman, have a hand in creating what will become humankind. In Africa, what exists in the beginning is a field that has not been plowed--so there is something that is not organized, similar to the ideas reflected in the LDS view of creation. Man and animal interactions in the creation story are also important to the people of this culture, which is also similar to the idea that man has some responsibility to other creations on the earth, as alluded to in Genesis.  

In the myths of India, the cycle of birth and death is very apparent, as things always end and then begin again. Their myths seem to be about renewal--so something is always there, from which something new is created, but in a very long and repeating cycle. This timelessness is apparent also in the myths of the aboriginal people of Australia and Oceania, which suggest a creation, but not a beginning, because in Dreamtime, everything already existed. Like in the African creation myths, the land is barren and plain. In their stories, the Eternal Ancestors take what is already there and complete it, or make it better.

There are more cultures, and more creation stories to be found in all of their mythologies. All of them make an attempt at answering the question, how did this all begin? The consensus seems to be that creation takes place from something that already existed, even if all that existed was darkness--chaos, a chasm, a void or a field, out of that earlier something creation arises.

Reading -- Influential Books #8-9-10

My book list ends up being only those influential books which became influential to me between ages 4 and 11. I would suppose that each decade has its own influential books!  For a reader, ten books is way too few. Even ten groups of books is way too few!

#8 Books by Beverly Cleary

I so much enjoyed books by Beverly Cleary, who was a librarian, I began reading her books while I was a library worker in my elementary school library. I loved working with Mrs. Miyashiro, the librarian.  By the time I was in Grade Six, if Mrs. Miyashiro was going to be absent, Mr. Oshiro the principal would meet me when I got off the bus and tell me that I would be in charge of the library that day. No words for what it meant to me, as an eleven year old girl, to be given that kind of trust. Amazing. Of Beverly Cleary's books, I preferred the stories about Henry Huggins, his friend Beezus, and her little sister Ramona. Beezus, of course was Beatrice, but Ramona could not pronounce it; hence, Beezus.

#9. Books by Frances Hodgson Burnett

The Secret Garden and A Little Princess have been around for over 100 years now! But to me, they are immortal stories.  I love both of these books so much. I learned things from them, about self esteem and love and patience and other good qualities. And I still think about these books, their characters and their messages these many years later.

#10 Rebecca by Daphne DuMaurier

This book stands out to me because my sister Colleen was reading it. She was in High School; I was in elementary school. I wanted to read the things she was reading. She was reading Rebecca, so I wanted to, and did, read Rebecca. Quite the horrific book, but such a compelling story.  Hitchcock did his usual great job with the movie, meaning that it is almost too scary for me to watch.

And thus ends my list. Up to age 11.

Reading -- Influential Books #5-6-7

5. Charlotte's Web.



This was another gift to me. (Good hint to my family too late: Give me books and I will be a more gracious receiver!)

I loved this book so much!!! Published in 1952, but it came into my possession sometime in the early sixties.  How I loved Fern and Wilbur and all the barnyard animals, even Templeton.  And how I cried when Charlotte died! So many good lessons in this book!

6. Strawberry Girl

So interesting to learn about Birdie Boyer and her family in Florida, growing their strawberries and having conflicts with their neighbors and their cows, in this 1945 book. I was a farm girl in Canada, and we grew strawberries and had cows. Sometimes our cows got out and into the fields of neighboring farmers. Sometimes their cattle came to our place. I chased a lot of cattle, and picked a lot of strawberries in my young life. I could really relate to this book.

7. Baby Island

I still love this book so much! If you have not read this lovely book, correct that omission as soon as possible. Imagine being on a deserted island if you were one of two little girls with a bunch of babies to take care of!  Carol Ryrie Brink imagines it, and tells it, so well.  This 1937 book stands the test of time. I read it aloud to all of my children, usually more than once. I was happy when Nancy bought me my own copy, even though the cover is updated and not the same!

Updated cover, but the story is still the same! Wonderful.
Carol Ryrie Brink's other books, especially The Pink Motel and Caddie Woodlawn--awesome books.

Myth Contemplation #1

I am taking a Mythology class with Josie at the Salt Lake Center. Here is my first Myth Contemplation assignment:

I was reading Prometheus Unbound by Aeschylus, and some of the lines hit home to me. At line 330, I read the words of Oceanus to Prometheus, "You, in the meantime, stay quiet and don't overindulge your tongue! Or is it that you, you Prometheus, with all your wisdom, don't know that the uncontrolled tongue brings its own destruction?" These words hit home because of some recent experiences I have had in my life.

I like to think of myself as a nice person, as a kind person. I like to think that I have self-control. That I am easy to get along with. But, like Prometheus, the truth is that sometimes I say things that would be better left unsaid.

In this case, I was really angry about some things that were going on in my workplace. I had been the figurative Zeus of the workplace for many years, but then I was overthrown--or at least my assignment at work changed, and so the hiring and supervision of the student workers fell out of my purview. I was frustrated by this. I felt like everything was great on our little Mount Olympus being run the way that I had run it.

The new Zeus had different ideas, and I felt like decisions were being made that were harmful to the students, and even that the decisions would have a hurtful effect on Mount Olympus. I felt that the students, the humans in this little analogy, needed saving. I wanted to save them, to feed them, to give them fire. I wanted them to be as powerful in their element as it was possible for them to be.

But the new Zeus in our little kingdom and her sidekick Hermes were, I thought, prone to micromanaging the humans, as if the Gods were watching at every moment, ready to pounce on the unlucky human who made a mistake. My frustration was smouldering into indignation. I would sit in my office, able to hear the students complaining to each other. I thought their complaints were real; I took them at face value, not seeing them as the venting and adjustment-making that they really were,

One day, one of the students asked me, "Do you have any influence at all over what happens here anymor?" And without thinking, I spoke. I overindulged my tongue, which almost of its own accord said, "I feel completely devoid of any influence." I did not realize that I felt entirely that way until the words were said aloud, for my ears as much as for the ears of the student. I stewed about those words that I had spoken, and they bothered me. I felt that I should have influence. I felt proprietorial to both my workplace and "my" students. I was driven to despair and agony, like Prometheus on the rock. I could not sleep. I was in torment.

Finally, after what I thought was much contemplation and consideration, I resolved to speak. Well, I did not speak--speaking would have been a better choice--but I wrote. I thought I wrote carefully. I thought I winnowed out the emotion and said only what needed to be said.

But my words, even in their written form, wounded. Their fiery darts pierced the heart of the new Zeus, who was hurt and deeply saddened because of my tongue. I thought it was a controlled tongue, a tongue of reason. But it was a hurtful, injuring tongue.  I thought that I understood the new Zeus's position towards the humans, but I did not. I made us into adversaries with my words, when we should be partners. I thought the new Zeus wanted to hurt the humans, but really she just wanted to understand them. She was trying to do the same thing in the workplace that I had been trying to do: she wanted to save them, to feed them, to give them fire so that they could be the best humans they could possibly be.

How did I not understand that? I thought I was "seeing something that is unbearable for the eyes to see" (line 69) but my eyes were not in focus. The person who I thought was ruining my little kingdom had no desire in her heart but to save the kingdom and its inhabitants. I, like Prometheus, thought that I had all the wisdom, that I was the only one to have "made all these discoveries for mankind" (line 470) ie my student workers, and then as their situation changed, I was suffering--a self-imposed suffering because I did not understand the difference between their vented words, said and then moved on from, and their true feelings. I kept those vented words and pondered them in my heart, and they poisoned me, until I had no "wisdom to devise something from which I (could) rid myself of my own suffering (line 470).

And so I hurled my words, my fiery darts of destruction. I was surprised that they hurt, because I thought I understood. But I didn't. I, like Prometheus, did "hurl such harsh and cutting words about" (line 319). And that was a mistake. I should have gathered more information. I should have asked questioned. I should have assumed good will coming from the new Zeus, instead of assuming the intent to destroy.

It would be bad enough if this was an isolated incident. But it came to my attention that I had also hurled some hurtful, damaging words at my son-in-law's Facebook posting a few weeks ago, and that people were still hurting from the inconsiderate, uncontrolled overindulgences of my tongue in that instance as well.

And so I had to re-examine myself. Was I looking at myself through rose-colored glasses and missing the truth that I can sometimes be hurtful? That I can sometimes be unkind. Not nice. Lacking in self-control. Sobering thoughts.  A good wake-up call to me to "'stay quiet" and not to "overindulge" my tongue. Reign it in; listen. Ask Questions. Be willing to hear all sides. Have compassion for both Gods and humans.

I hope this is a lesson learned. Because it has been painful, and I would not want it to be a forever punishment, like Prometheus had to endure. I would not wish to be buried with any person thinking that I was not the kind, gentle, nice person that I wish to be. But if I don't want anyone thinking badly of me, then my words, spoken and written, need to match that kind of description. I would be Prometheus Unbound, not fettered to the rock of my ill-spoken words.