Merry Christmas!

In this issue, Armand Mauss looks back over the decades since his book The Angel and the Beehive was published, with its seminal theory of LDS assimilation and retrenchment, while Fred Gedicks looks forward to project what kinds of assimilation might be possible for Mormonism over the next several decades. Carmon Hardy looks back at the long history of polygamy and its shadow, while Taylor Petrey takes first steps towards a post-heterosexual Mormon theology. A nice fat review section critiques several major new volumes, and a review essay on The Book of Mormon by Michael Hicks. And “From the Pulpit,” a lovely Christmastide sermon from my dad, who still knows best (excerpts below).
Along with our deep thanks for your interest and support and good will, I offer best wishes from all of us at Dialogue for a very merry Christmas and a joyful, abundant New Year!
God bless us, every one.
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Some say that ever ‘gainst that season comes
Wherein our Savior’s birth is celebrated,
Wherein our Savior’s birth is celebrated,
This bird of dawning singeth all night long,
And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad,
The nights are wholesome, then no planets strike,
No fairy takes , nor witch hath power to charm.
So hallowed and so gracious is that time. (Hamlet Ii 138 ff)

Consider with me, if you will, those three words that are said to characterize not just Christmas
day, but the entire “season … wherein our Savior’s birth is celebrated”: wholesome, hallowed
and gracious.
Few would quarrel with those descriptors. The literature of Christmas is filled with stories of the
best of human nature, called forth by the spirit and spirits of the season; the carols say that not
only men, but “heaven and nature sing” the praises of the newborn King.
Yet, as we all know too well, this charmed and charming view of Christmas coexists in us with
more complicated realities: The bleak midwinter brings depression, sickness and the reality of
daily life once the parties are over and the Christmas lights have come down. The impulse to
generosity toward the poor warms our hearts, but also makes us aware in our heads of otherwise
unmet needs that will not disappear when the calendar changes. Doctors warn of enhanced risk
of heart attack, the post-Christmas depression is only too well known to its victims as well as to
the therapists, and the wellness enthusiasts admonish us of the dangers of that in which we have
already indulged! Yet over against both the bleak midwinter and the simple hope for a rescue
from all sorrow and wickedness is the sober assessment of the soldier Marcellus: that this season
of the year in which we celebrate the birth of our Lord and Savior is indeed wholesome, hallowed
and gracious. What might these words teach us as we reflect on Christmas past and look for-
ward to a new year and its promise of fresh beginnings?
…
Let us resolve that our words and actions will be wholesome: tending to promote health and
well-being in ourselves, our families and in our relationships with our neighbors. Let us stand
against the rising tide of poisonous words and venomous rhetoric that pollute the airwaves and
the print media. Let us learn to pray for those we perceive to be on the opposite side of the po-
litical aisle, and even for our enemies, and in doing so, make them our friends and fellow benefi-
ciaries of Christ’s healing spirit. [You might even consider taking a Democrat to lunch!] Above
all, let us be sure that the language of love is cultivated intensively at home so that it becomes a
perennial feature of all our private, familial, personal and community relationships.
Let us resolve that we will do our part to hallow the year ahead, by building a Zion that will in-
crease in beauty and in holiness. To that end, let us in our minds and in our ministries enlarge
the borders of Zion to include our sisters and brothers who do not worship with us, but who are
our friends and fellow pilgrims and who also serve the Master by feeding the sheep of His pas-
ture. Let us “stand in holy places and be not moved,” and build our foundations on the “rock of
our Redeemer, who is Christ, … that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, yea, when
all his hail and his mighty storm shall beat upon you, it shall have no power over you to drag you
down to the gulf of misery and endless wo.” [Helamn 5:12]
And let us above all resolve that we will share the abundance of God’s gracious presence in our
lives, out of love for Him and gratitude for His myriad tender mercies that are the visible signs of
that grace. …Let us leave room in our time, our energies and our budgets for unplanned op-
portunities to do the Lord’s work and thus to share the abundance of the Lord’s tender mercies.
The ancient commandment still stands: “And when ye reap the harvest of your land, thou shalt
not wholly reap the corners of thy field, neither shalt thou gather the gleanings of thy harvest.
And thou shalt not glean thy vineyard, either shalt thou gather every grape of thy vineyard; thou
shalt leave them for the poor and stranger; I am the LORD your God.” [Leviticus 19:9-10] Let us
not glean the edges of our fields of labor, to harvest the last bit of time, hoard the spiritual wealth of our testimonies, or take out of circulation those last few dollars, but instead leave some room for giving of ourselves, our interest, our listening ears, our time and our means to those with
whom — and among whom — we live, work and worship.