Preserves
March 16, 2018[…] plumps the sour grapes and makes them sweet. Work, old sun, work for the bread and wine, feed man with the milk of earth, and pour the honest glass in which laughs the divine […]
[…] plumps the sour grapes and makes them sweet. Work, old sun, work for the bread and wine, feed man with the milk of earth, and pour the honest glass in which laughs the divine […]
[…] have a good mission. There’s someone out there for you. I’d write more but I have to feed Lizzy. She’s been fussy lately. It think she has a rash. That night Richard quietly weeps […]
Gary Rummler, Deserted Promised Land?
Johnny Townsend, Sanctimonious Review
Christian Harrison, Christian Harrison Responds
Editor’s Comment
Eugene N. Kovalenko, Mind-Changing Issue
George Handley’s Home Waters: A Year of Recompenses on the Provo River practices theology the way a doctor practices CPR—not as a secondhand theory but as a chest-cracking, lung-inflating, life-saving intervention. The book models what, on my account, good theology ought to do: It is experimental, it is grounded in the details of lived experience, and it takes charity—that pure love of Christ— as the only real justification for its having been written. It is not afraid to guess, it is not afraid to question, it is not afraid to cry repentance, and it is not afraid to speak in its own name.
We could say that Joseph Smith Junior went to the woods for the same reason Henry David Thoreau went: He wished to live deliberately. Or maybe we should say that Thoreau went for the same reasons Joseph Smith did. In 1820, Joseph took to the Sacred Grove to discover “who of all these parties is right, or are they all wrong together? If any one of them be right, which is it and how shall I know?” (JS—H 1:10). Thirty years after Joseph went into the grove, Thoreau took to Walden Pond to “front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach.” Thoreau stayed at Walden for twenty-six months. Joseph Smith stayed in the Sacred Grove for—we might guess—only a few hours at most. But both men came away from their experiences with the “essential facts” they sought.
[…] missionary and the people he teaches. They are attracted to each other, pleased by reciprocal interest. They feed mutual longings for religious community, for order, for divine love. They join in fervent prayer. They […]
I’m going to try and convey aspects of Charles Taylor’s work that I find tremendously helpful in working through the challenges that all of us confront and that give rise to conferences like this one. Let me begin, however, with a personal note about Taylor. He is perhaps the most successful contemporary philosopher bridging the analytic continental divide and is best known for his contributions to political philosophy, moral philosophy, philosophy of social science, and the history of philosophy.
In northern Europe, where our celebration of the Christmas season has its roots, the winter nights are long, dark, and foreboding and, at least in myth, teeming with unwelcome mysteries. It was against this backdrop that the early Christian monks and missionaries transformed the pagan Yuletide festivals into our modern Christmas celebration. Be that as it may, there can be no doubt that the physical and spiritual darkness of winter seemed, for many, to be lifted at the Christmas season.
There are so many kinds of never. There’s the never that Jacob’s Mum uses when she says, “Never talk to strangers; it’s dangerous,” and there’s the never his Dad uses when he says, “Never play…
Many examples of missionary journals are available from early days of the Church. (See, for example, the diaries collected in Brigham Young University’s online archive collection http://lib.byu.edu/digital/mmd/). In reading through them, one finds that they…