GreggTownsley.com

Mormons, Martial Arts and Marriage 9/25/05

I had a conversation with two of my Latter Day Saint (LDS) friends the other day. I teach the local missionaries at our martial arts school in Sherwood, Oregon. Free-of-charge, you understand, it’s good business and I enjoy the friendship and the “deep ecumenism” of having them there. And while I was surprised to hear that the previous missionaries had left the area without saying “goodbye,” I was happy to meet the new guys who had arrived.

It wasn’t long before the alpha male of the group—Mormon missionaries always come in twos you might have discovered, though if you’re a particularly difficult or promising case, they can come packed in as many as half a dozen or more—asked quite innocently if I had ever wondered where the first Americans came from.

I blinked.

And with an inappropriately wry smile, I’m embarrassed to say, I replied, “You’ve got to be kidding.” (Clearly the previous guys hadn’t left any notes or records regarding our conversations.) “What, with all of the expeditions that have been launched throughout the church’s history to authenticate the geography of the Book of Mormon,” I said. “And the unreasonably large disagreement among Latter Day Saint writers, previous and contemporary, trying to solve the real dilemmas the Book of Mormon poses when considered historically, anthropologically, linguistically” I offered. “And what about the church’s current Prophet and Revelator’s statement that the faithful should speculate less about the facts of the Mormon stories than appreciate the stories’ truths?” I added. “But if you’re asking me if I’m curious about the origin of America’s ancient peoples? Sure, but I don’t know that either of us have anything to add to the conversation that you or I haven’t heard before.”

In retrospect, it was a little harsh—I’m not normally taken to speaking that way, but they took me by surprise.

I love these guys, even when I don’t know them. One of them signed their full name to a training card the other day only to cross out his first name and replace it with the title “Elder.” To be frank—and to honor their journey which I do weekly when we meet—I think the reason I enjoy having them there has everything to do with their faith and appreciation of sacred things.

I ask them to pray for me. (I suppose that they do, though they’ve got to be wondering about the results). But I don’t think for a minute that most of the missionaries I’ve talked with—I’m on my third team, I think, and look forward with talking with more—have any sense of the correctness or complexity of the things about which they speak. They’re nineteen years old, after all. But to say that is not to portray our conversations quite honestly. There are times when these young men say exactly what needs to be said. Often times, at least with me, their words cut to the quick.

It’s not only in my Mormon friends that I appreciate that quality. Some of my agnostic friends do the same thing. Some of my Christian friends are able to do that as well. I think when spiritually thinking people—again, I want to underscore I’m not only talking about “spiritual people,” whatever that means to you, as I am about folks who are asking, thinking or wrestling with the clarity of their lives or someone else’s—when these folks wrestle with the principles of their faith and the sometimes dueling principalities of their life’s ego and existence, it’s not real hard to ask the right question or come to a helpful correct conclusion. More often than not, we don’t even need to hear from a friend. The right word or question is staring us in the face.

“What is your opinion?” Jesus asks in one of Sunday’s Common Lectionary readings. “A man had two sons. The man came to the first sons and asked, ‘Son, go out and work in the fields today.’ The first son said ‘I will not,’ but afterwards changed his mind and went out into the fields anyway. The second son when asked by his father to go out and work responded, ‘Sure thing,’ but didn’t go out to work at all. Which of the two did his father’s will?”

That’s the cool thing about Jesus. The wisdom is homespun. It’s not out of the ordinary at all. No squinty-eyed guru here. You can see the question being asked of you by a neighbor on the bus. Or by a teacher. Or even a friend.

The religious folks that Jesus was talking to answered, “the first son.” And that’s where Jesus got personal. “That’s correct,” he said. “I tell you that tax collectors and prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God before you…” And I don’t know that he got much else said before the crowds began to hiss and boo.

One of the things I like about my LDS missionary friends is that they’re not afraid to ask, “So how is your prayer life?” if we’re talking about prayer. Or “when’s the last time you went to church?” if we’re talking about church. Or “what can we pray for?” if we’re talking about my life of faith. They ask the right question—even the wrong question will do, it seems, if it’s asked at the right time—and wait patiently for an answer, as if my personal response is important to them.

To God, and to me.

When I began reading this past Sunday’s lectionary lessons—I download the lectionary readings daily onto my PDA, along with spiritual readings from other sources, Evangelical Protestant, Roman Catholic, Jewish and Latter Day Saint, so that they can be a part of my spiritual practice–that’s where they left me. The same pitiful and painful place that my Mormon friends sometimes do, where the question has been asked and all that remains to be felt or said is my comment, my vote regarding the new or renewed direction in my life (if I’m going to make any or take any). And the whole universe, so it seems, pauses in anticipation of what I might say next.

The lectionary lesson from Paul cuts in the same way as the gospel. The apostle Paul writes,

“Brothers, sisters, if there’s any encouragement in Jesus, any solace in his love, any participation in his spirit, any compassion, any mercy, make me happy by thinking and doing the same thing. Don’t be selfish. Think of other people first, regard others as more important than you. Have in your heart the same attitude that Jesus did.”

I’m tried by that…and often times convicted.

Because I want first to straighten things out. Or set things right. Or I’m caught up in figuring out the right thing to do or say when the simple thing is simply to love one another.

Nancy and I spent a couple of hours today with Dave and MaryAnn McNeill, who renewed their vows after 43 years of marriage. A great many storms and stanines later—their have been more than a few measurements over the years—the two of them stood in front of their family and friends to say, “let’s do this for the rest of our lives.” It was remarkable.

Not just 43 years of marriage—so many of us don’t get it right anymore or can’t figure out the way to make things right—no, not the achievement of 43 years. I imagine anyone with the right abilities (or disabilities, too) could make that happen. What was remarkable was the clarity of vision and heart that MaryAnn and David offered each other as well as those who attended. “She’s my teacher,” David said. “I’ll always love you infinitely,” MaryAnn intoned moments before.

When cancer big-time kicks your behind as it did recently MaryAnn and Dave’s, the right words come to you quickly. And the opportunity for tomorrow—flagging at times and fiercely contending for what’s important in your life in other moments—waits for you to say, as MaryAnn and David did, “I do.”