A Good Friday For Broken Things

 "Good Friday"  I don't recall hearing about Good Friday as I was growing up in South Salt Lake.  It was probably, maybe, mentioned in a primary or Sunday school class, but that was so long ago that it would be deeply buried in my gray matter.  I remember some things about my church meetings from my teenage years at the Butler 12th Ward, but nothing is coming to mind about this holy day.  I don't think it was a thing from my mission days in the Lutheran-dominated world of Sweden.  People there went to church on Christmas and Easter, but, again I don't recall anything about Good Friday, even though Wikipedia tells me that it is an observed holiday by Lutherans.  Actually, I think it has just been in recent years that I have become more aware of the significance of this Holy Day.

We all know of the events of Good Friday and the day/night before.  They began with the Last Supper with all of His wonderful teachings and love demonstrated to his disciples, continued through Gethsemane, the betrayal, arrest, conviction, flogging, thorn-crowning, cross bearing, and ridicule.  They continued on this day-Good Friday-with His crucifixion.  Which ended with Jesus willingly fulfilling his Father's will and willingly giving up his mortal life-"no man taketh if from me".  This "good" day ended with our Savior lying in a borrowed tomb, his body not yet properly prepared and anointed for burial, as the Sabbath began before all could be completed.

Since I became more aware of Good Friday, I have often asked myself what those around the Savior found to be "good" on this day.  Now we, knowing how the story ends, can see the significance of the events and know of the need for Jesus to be "bruised, broken and torn for us" on that hill, even if we don't understand it, can see how these events were "good".  But what about His disciples who had been waiting oh, so long for the Messiahs to deliver them?  His family and friends who were so close to him and loved him?  And the twelve, now eleven, who had been through so much, had seen and done miracles in His name, had looked to Him to usher His kingdom into the world?  And now He was gone, his body in a tomb.

I think there were other things broken on that Good Friday, in addition to the Savior's mortal body.  Some must have had their hopes for a Messiahs-a deliverer-dashed and broken on that stony hill.  We know there were rules, laws, traditions broken in order to arrest, convict, and crucify Him.  I believe that those dearest to Him-Mary his mother and Mary and the other women, his apostles, his friends like Mary and Martha and Lazarus, whom Jesus had raised from the dead, must have had broken souls and broken hearts and wept bitter tears.  I am sure there were others who had not been "official" disciples, like the Roman soldier, whose hearts also ached as they watched the events of that "good" day.

But what else was broken?  We will talk of other marvelous truths tomorrow about broken things that He caused and which make it possible for us to return to Him.

In the meantime, let us remember what He suffered on this day and the night before.  For me.  For you.  And, yes, even you! And if, as we consider the Garden and the Cross, our hearts become broken, even a little bit cracked, because of his love for you, and me, and all of us, let us remember that He has asked us to bring these broken hearts to Him and put them on His alter so He can heal and sanctify them.  Broken things can be remade perfectly if we give them to Him. Hearts and hopes and even our lives.  He is might to heal and mighty to save.  Even me.  And you.  And even you!

Good Friday to you all!

The Passover Lamb

 Jesus went to Jerusalem and the temple-His house-during the Feast of the Passover.  He met with his disciples on Thursday, Passover day, for the Passover meal and to teach and prepare his disciples for what was to come.  I don't think they realized that what He had been teaching them was to be literally fulfilled.

The first Passover involved the blood of an unblemished lamb, obedience to the Lord's directions and deliverance from centuries of captivity and slavery by miraculous means.

This Passover would involve the blood of the Lamb of God, direction given by the Savior to his disciples, covenants made, the will of the Father (who loves us) being fullfilled by His Son, and deliverance from the captivity of death.  God's grace and mercy saves us from the slavery of sin and pain and disappointment and misery and anger and depression and physical imperfections and agony and addiction and anything else that causes us to have sad hearts, by means of the greatest miracle in the history of mankind.  Remember-a God needed to die to provide our deliverance.  Nothing less would suffice.

Jesus and his twelve met for Passover supper.  He washed their feet.  Peter initially refused, but the Savior taught him that this was needed.

 Jesus taught his twelve many things.  Love was a preeminent principle.  "This new commandment I give ye; love one another."  "By this shall men know ye are my disciples; if ye have love one to another."  He also promised them comfort, as I'm sure He knew they would need it, both for the events of the next few days and when they would take his word to the world.   After he told them that they would be persecuted and killed, he taught them "These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world."

He instituted the Sacrament with his twelve.  He told them to eat the bread and drink the wine in remembrance of His flesh and blood.  We take Him into us when we renew covenants through the sacrament. 

After the washing, teaching, the breaking of bread, the institution of the sacrament, and the pleading to have them love one another, He left them, saving three, and went to Gethsemane. 

After his holy work and supplications to his father in the garden, he allowed himself to be taken.

OK, my apologies, little family.  If any of you have read this far.  I can't come close to communicating what I feel about the Atonement of Jesus Christ in this little post.  Here is what I know, but don't fully understand.  God loves us.  He sent his Son.  Jesus' infinite atonement saves us from death-He is mighty to save and we will all live again.  It also allows us to change and try to do, then be, better. To be like Him. So we can live with God and our Brother and our families again.

So-I don't at all know how this "condescension of God" works.  But, like Nephi, I know why-that He loves his children-us.  "For God so loved the world...".

 Love each other.  Be His disciples.  Miracles happen when we do.

Atoning Passover day love to each of you. 

Spy Wednesday

 We aren't sure of the exact chronology of  the events of Holy Week.  Luke makes mention of something interesting.  It seems that the chief priests and scribes were troubled by some of the Savior's hard-to-hear teachings.  Here is what they did in response-

19 ¶And the chief priests and the scribes the same hour sought to lay hands on him; and they feared the people: for they perceived that he had spoken this parable against them.

20 And they watched him, and sent forth spies, which should feign themselves just men, that they might take hold of his words, that so they might deliver him unto the power and authority of the governor.

They sent spies pretending to be "just men" to "take hold of his words".  They wanted to "catch" the Savior in his words, his teachings, in order to have a reason to deliver him up to the authorities.

Because of this, some call Wednesday of Holy Week "Spy Wednesday".

The Gospels all record ongoing teachings through this mid-week period.  I want to focus on one very important truth the Savior taught during this time. 

One of the scribes asked Him "Which is the first commandment of all?" The Savior answered  (Mark's version)  "And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength: this is the first commandment.

31 And the second is like, namley this, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. There is none other commandment greater than these."

To which the scribe replied "Well, Master, thou hast said the truth: for there is one God; and there is none other but he: And to love him with all the heart, and with all the understanding, and with all the soul, and with all the strength, and to love his neighbour as himself, is more than all whole burnt offerings and sacrifices."

I don't know if this scribe was trying to catch the Savior in his teachings, but I am blessed that he posed the question, as the Savior's answer helps me keep perspective on my mortal adventure.  When I let myself get too caught up in the "work", the checkboxes, the often misunderstood "after all you can do" that follows the truth that it is by the Savior's grace that we are saved, the Saviors response-to love God and my neighbor-helps me refocus and get back on the right path.  If I think about what I could do to show God I love him with all my heart, soul, mind and strength, and my neighbor as myself, well, I tend to act better and try to become more like Him.

There is so much to think about how each of us is doing in following these two commandments.

How do you think the Savior replied to this scribe's response to Him?  "And when Jesus saw that he answered discreetly, he said unto him, Thou art not far from the kingdom of God.".

Seems like  this scribe understood what the Savior was talking about.  I would assume that his heart had been changed by the spirit as he had listened to the Savior's teachings that week.

May we all have hearts that allow us to love God and our neighbors that we may be found "...not far from the kingdom of God".  And I hope we listen with these same hearts to His teachings, even when they seem hard.

The People Who Love You

 At the end of the second day, when He had cleansed His Father's house, performed healings, and did wonderful things, Jesus "...left them and went out of the city into Bethany: and he lodged there."   Who might He lodge with in this small town some two miles from Jerusalem?  We know this is where he had spent time before with his friends Lazarus, Mary, and Martha.  We know He loved them (well, He loves all of us, but these were some of His friends, one who he even raised from the dead) and I'm sure they greatly loved Him.  He knew that there were great trials before him in the coming few days.  Many of the multitude who had praised Him as He entered the holy city would turn on Him, even demanding that He be crucified.  One of His closest disciples would betray Him.  One would deny that he knew Him. Many would hide.  Don't worry, they would do marvelous things later and would give their lives for Him.  We all need the opportunity to change and grow.  But the end of this week will be hard for them.  And Him.

He would be asked to do His Father's will to show love for His Father's children.  That includes you and me and your families and best friends and even those who don't like you and may torment you.  We are all His children and He came to save us.  It would be the greatest battle ever fought and there was only One who would be able to win it.  For us.  For His Father.  He knew this was at the doorstep for him.  I think He went to stay the night with those who loved Him so he could find rest and comfort and prepare.  

There is a strength that comes from being with those who know and love us best.  Their love for us strengthens us and helps us do our hard things.  Those closest to us help us know how we can grow and be better, as well as help us understand our potential and who we really are-especially when we most need it. Often this helps get us through our most difficult times. 

If you read Mathew 21-23, you'll see what He did on that third day after finding refuge with his friends.  You'll hear what he taught.  There is so much there-I won't even try to summarize, but please take time to read His wonderful teachings on this day, the day before His last mortal Passover meal.

In the meantime, consider doing a couple of things.  First-be willing to "lodge" with those who love you most.  Seek their strength, help, comfort (sounds like "home", right?).  Often this takes a soft heart on our part.  It is very hard for some of us to seek help-especially when it is most needed.  Pride gets in the way.  Second-be spiritually aware of those you love who may need your strength, help, comfort.  Those whose arms may hang down and whose knees might be feeble (not mine-mine are bionic-arms and knees!).  Help them by bearing burdens as well as feeling their sorrows so you may mourn with them.  Follow the Savior and His Friends on this third day.  

Love you all!

"Who is this?"

 Yesterday, Palm Sunday, Jesus made his triumphal entry into Jerusalem.  The multitudes recognized him as a "Son of David" and shouted "Hosanna" as he entered.  "Hosanna" means "God save us".  

After He entered Jerusalem Mathew wrote "...and all the city was moved, saying, Who is this?"

And just Who was it that they were expecting?  Moses had delivered their people, long ago, from the slavery of the Egyptians.  Would Jesus go to the Fortress Antonia and rid the city of the Roman soldiers, starting their long-awaited delivery from the Romans? 

No.  He went instead to His Father's house-the temple-and cleansed it of those who sold animals and coin for sacrifice and payment.  Matthew tells us that Jesus said  "It is written, My house shall be called a house of prayer; but you have made it a den of thieves".  The next verse reads "And the blind and the lame came to him in the temple; and he healed them."

I love the next verse-"And when the chief priests and scribes saw the wonderful things that he did, and the children crying in the temple, and saying, Hosanna to the Son of David; they were sore displeased."  How could one be "sore displeased" in the midst of healings, wonderful works and shouts of Hosanna?

Who is this?  It sounds as if the children knew who He was more than most of the leaders.  "Out of the mouth of babes...thou has perfected praise".

The temple is a liminal place.  A kind of in-between place.  It is where Heaven and Earth can meet.  It is His house.  Jesus went "home" to his house and found things happening there that ought not to have been.  So he drove those out who shouldn't have been there.  Then the blind and the lame came to Him-they knew where to find Him-at His house-and He healed them.  He did "wonderful things".  And there were children in the temple praising Him and shouting Hosanna-"God save us"!

I'm not sure what those around him were expecting-"Who is this?"  But I know He often told them that he came to do His Father's will.  This is the beginning of His last week of mortal work. Doing His Father's will.  Cleanse his house.  Heal. Do wonderful things. Be recognized and praised by the children.  The story continues tomorrow.

This brings up a few questions for me.  "Who is this" Jesus for me?

Do I spend time in liminal places, like the temple, where I can sense the presence of  Heaven better?  Have you been overwhelmed by awe and peace when out in the wilds, on a mountain, in a desert place?  Can I better make my home a place where Heavenly influence is welcome?  How can I help make these places more liminal?

"Who is this?" that I worship, want to emulate, try to follow, and declare to others as our Savior, Older Brother, and Son of Man of Holiness? 

I will keep following Him as best I can, knowing that I will fall short, but He will lift me up and He will cause me to shout "Hosanna" with the multitudes seeking peace and safety. 

He came, riding a donkey.

They had waited a long time. Longer than you or your parents or your grandparents or even their grandparents were alive. They had waited and watched for millennia. During that time they had seen kingdoms come and go. They had had wonderful prophets of God and kings who built temples for them. They had wandered for decades and been sustained by bread from heaven and water from rocks. They had conquered, been conquered, enslaved and been enslaved. They had seen fire from heaven, plagues of frogs, and divided seas. They had been obedient to their God and they had foolishly followed after graven images. They had been scattered and partially gathered. And they were still waiting. And watching. They knew what they were waiting for. Their Mesiah. He would teach them, heal them and deliver them. 

 And then He came. At first they didn't know it.  At least most of them.  Some shepherds knew.  And some old people at the temple.  A few more probably.  Some Magi from far away found him and told a "king" about the baby.  Stories from another season.

He grew up.  Some saw Different in Him.  Most saw the son of Mary and Joseph.  Until he started dong miracles.  Water became wine.  Withered became whole.  The Way walked on water.  People with chronic infirmities were made well and whole-and more. The blind saw, the deaf heard.  The unclean were cleansed.  The dead were restored to life.

At first, a few listened and heard.  A few looked and saw.  More, even multitudes, saw the miracles and started following to be fed.  A few small loaves and fishes fed thousands.  They had found Him-their king! They would be delivered from the oppression of their current rulers and their earthly kingdom restored!  Hallelujah!  But not now.  He was here for a much more marvelous mission than deliverance from earthly oppression.

He knew His mortal mission was near its completion.  He arranged to make his final entry into Jerusalem as a prophesized King-riding on a donkey.  The people thronged him and laid down palm fronds and even their cloaks for him to ride on into the city.  Surely this was their King, Deliverer, the Messiah.  Hosanna to God and sing His praises.  Deliverance was nigh at long last! No longer would they be yoked by political oppression.  They had their God with them.  They would surely be saved!

And so they, we, were truly saved.  But not yet in the way many of His time thought or maybe even knew was possible.  By the end of that week which started with His triumphal entry into their holy city, we would all be granted blessings unimagined by most.  We would all be delivered from those monsters of death and hell. 

We still live in a fallen world and await His next coming.  What will we be expecting and hoping for?  Will we be there laying down our hearts for him to enter? Are we even now listening and hearing, looking and seeing and feeling?

Blessed Palm Sunday to you all.  I understand that next time He'll be in His chariot of fire.

Once There Was a Cottonwood Tree in Our Backyard

OK-I am not sure that is the best title for this post.  I'm quite sure, in fact, that no posts were ever made out of the cottonwood tree that is no longer growing in our back yard.  Yes, there are pieces of it here and there.  I am sure that some of the stars we see came from her branches,  but the tree itself has been down for a good number of years. Also, the cottonwood is not the primary subject of this bit of prose, but she does play a significant roll.

What's that?  Oh, you'd like for me to get on with the real story?  Ok!  Why didn't you say so?

Well, when the cottonwood was planted (by Grandma, of course) she thought it would grow up to be a quaking aspen-scientific name Populus tremuloides (that sounds like something quaking don't you think?) or perhaps a plain old poplar tree.  However, any tree named "poplar" (not to be confused with "popular" which is an entirely different subject) means it is just part of the family of trees to which cottonwoods (Populus deltoides) and quakies belong.  So, she was correct-it did grow up to be a type of poplar.  But not a quakie.  Quakies are actually popular poplars.   It grew and grew and grew!  It provided wonderful shade in a relative short time.  We hung a swing on one of its branches.  Kids climbed the branches as high as they could handle, but the trunks-she had three major ones if I remember correctly-were soon too large to get your arms around to help climb.

She was a wonderful tree.  Most of the time.  She had a couple of quirks.  Every early June our neighborhood would have a couple weeks of snow!  Well, not real snow.  But it looked like snow on all the lawns as our cottonwood would shed her cotton-swathed seeds as far as the wind would take them.  I always thought it looked lovely, but I didn't suffer from allergies to such things.  Some of our neighbors didn't like cleaning it up off their lawns.  We didn't mind that very much.  Her real challenge is that she kept growing.  And growing!  Someone had planted her a bit close to our house-thinking she would be a cute little popular poplar like a quakie, but she did grow true to her roots into an ever-increasingly large Tree!  She also started developing a stinky-tree problem.  There were places in her trunk that just didn't smell right.  We realized that she had a type of slime flux-a bacterial wetwood infection-that would continue to progress deep inside of her.  Now don't worry if you remember playing in the tree or on her trunks that served as a pirate ship for a number of years.  Slime flux is not contagious to people.

We ended up needing to have her cut down.  Here is a lesson for you.  It is always hard on one's heart to cut down a living tree, even if she is ill.  Sometimes one doesn't plant a tree in the best location and needs to cut it down in its prime for that reason.  Plan ahead, young people.  We all need enough space to grow and thrive.

OK-enough about the cottonwood in our backyard.

One day about fifteen or sixteen years ago I was pushing our little mower over the grass under our cottonwood tree.  I must not have been paying close attention.  As I started pushing through some long grass in the shade of the tree I noticed a small ball of feathers.  "Stop!", my brain said.  "Maybe Baby Bird!" it said.  But, you all know how difficult it is to get your arms and legs to listen when you are already moving and your brain yells at you to "Stop!".  I did my best!  I pushed down on the handle so the deadly spinning blade might not hit the little feather ball, sure that I was too late.  I released the lever so the mower stopped running and pulled it back to reveal a fledging robin hunkered down in the long grass.  Oh no!  I was sure I had just decapitated a baby robin (scientific name Turdus migratorius).

I knelt down and gently picked up the little fluff ball-and it peeped at me.  Hooray!  I was not a baby robin killer!

I did what you would do.  As I held the little spotted guy in my hands I looked up in the cottonwood trying to locate a nest, a mom robin, a dad robin,  heck, even a grandma robin.  No luck.  Not knowing what to do I consulted that being with the most wisdom and knowledge I know-Grandma-and she told me to look on the interweb.  There I learned that fledging robins often end up on the ground and that you should leave them alone.  Their parents are almost certainly nearby and will take care of the little bird when you leave.

I was not that smart.  We ended up caring for the little thing for a few days, getting up in the night to feed it worms and cat food (ironic, eh?) and having it stay under a light to keep warm.  Oscar helped with all this.  We did let him (the bird, not Oscar) go after a day or two and he found his way back to his feathered family.

Wait-do you know what "fledgling" means?  OK, how about "fletching", as in arrows?  Ok, I see by your knowing smile that you get the connection.

OK, at this point in our journey it is time for you to look back in this blog and find a story titled "Rescued".  I think it was told in May 2015- a long time ago.  Another story about another bird.  No populus deltoides involved, but it happened at our cabin where we do have an abundance of populus tremuloides.  

I'll wait.  Did you take a look?  OK.  The score is now two rescued birds.  Yay team!

Now for a more recent bird encounter.  I was sitting right here.  No, not "here" where you are, but "here" where I am.  You are currently "there".  Unless you are reading this on my computer.  Then you are indeed "here".  Congratulations!  We'll have dessert in a few minutes after we finish this story.

The story-I was sitting at the computer ("here") working on something or the other when I heard that distinctive "thump" of a small bird flying into our back door, which is mostly window.  I don't hear that often, but it always makes me worried/sad that a little bird has broken its neck flying into the glass.

Why do they do that?  I'm sure it's not to make me worried/sad.  It has nothing to do with me.  Often it happens when one of the local hawks soars by.  I think they do that trying to catch a meal, which is just fine, but maybe they do it sometimes just to watch the little birdies scatter.  Either for hunting or humor, this little bird was startled and tried to find the fastest way to safety and flew into what looked like a good escape route but ended up floppy on my back step.

I went out, still sad/worried, and picked the little feathered being up.  I wondered at the miracle that we have such creatures-flying, acrobatic animals!  My sadness deepened as I felt that her little body was limp and her eyes closed.  It was a cold day.  I couldn't think of putting the small thing in the trash.  I thought of placing her in a warm, sunny spot, but there was a North wind chilling even the brighter spots. So I held her gently in my hands.  I thought I could detect the speedy beating of her little courageous heart, but wasn't sure.  So I sat there thinking about Jesus teaching about a sparrow not falling to the ground without God knowing.  I did say a bit of a plea to Father.  I didn't want the little bird to suffer or to be cold. 

As she rested in my hands I saw her eyes flutter an open.  She wasn't moving anything else yet, but it gave me great hope to see her bright little eyes.  She was definitely  breathing now.  After a few minutes I gently extended her wing and she was able to pull it back in place.  Eventually she found her way to being on her feet and fluttered from my hands.  She flew toward the glass door!  But no head bonking this time.  I let her sit and rest a short spell then opened the door.  Off she flew!  She headed for the the thick base of the honeysuckle plant and took with her my wishes for many more days of being a bird.  What kind of bird was she?  Well, she was a lucky, brave, happy and probably headachy bird.  Oh, I believe she was a house finch-scientific name Carpodacus mexicanus.  Oh, I just realized that "she" was likely a "he".

Ok-final tally for this story-Three rescued little birds, one cottonwood tree that blessed us for many years, many quakies still standing and quaking, one hawk that is either hungry or amused at scattering the little birds and one contented grandpa.

"Why are you a content grandpa?" you may ask.  Whenever we try to do good, to listen and feel what we should be doing, whether it is trying to rescue a little bird or being nice to a sibling, especially when it would be so easy to be snarky!, or when we just try to be good and kind and build up the people near us, we make the whole universe better.  We really do.  Any good we do builds and strengthens God's kingdom.

Sometimes we need to be strong enough to not take the easy path of belittling and discouraging and instead try to encourage and build up. It's easy for most of us to want to help small cute critters, but that doesn't always include your siblings!  But they are who often need us to be strong and kind and encouraging!  In the past few weeks I have been blessed to watch as several of you grandkiddos have watched out for, helped and praised the efforts of some of you siblings.  That always makes my heart happy.

 I was reminded this morning as I walked with Sadie that this applies to ourselves as well.  It is easy to find faults and weaknesses that we suppose we have and focus on those.  Just today Grandma and Letty were out in the cold rain moving the broken concrete chunks we use as a wall around our compost.  I couldn't help because I recently had a new shoulder put in and can't do heavy work.  That was my work they were doing in my compost pile!  (don't you wish you had a compost pile?)  As I started to feel a healthy dose of "poor me" because I couldn't go play with them in the rain I remembered that I can do what I can do.  In time my shoulder will heal and I can get back to shovel work, but, for now, I will do what I can and be happy with that!  And you should too!