Music, Poetry, Religion

Poetry is a framework that allows us to explore the depths of who we are as individuals.  Poetry is distilled truth.  One of the things I love about poetry is that it can mean different things to different people, or even something different to the same person at different points in their lives.

Last night, my voice was tired, so I decided to work with some easier English songs rather than my physically demanding Strauss. I found myself exploring the poetry.  In any song you sing, there are really four interpretations taking place.  First, the singer should try to figure out what the poet was trying to say.  Knowing more about the poet's life--their relationships, passions, and pains--helps you to understand the origins of these words.  Then, through examining the music--the phrasing, dynamics, harmonies, etc.--you explore possibilities of how the composer might have interpreted the ideas presented by the poet.  Your life experience brings it's own interpretations to the table.  And finally, the truth you convey through the song reaches the listener where she or he again filters it through their own history and hears the truth that they need at the moment.  

What Would I Give?

I immediately love the melody of Vicki Tucker Courtney's setting of Christina Rossetti's poem, "What Would I Give?" but I didn't find any connection at all with the words.  It was about someone who couldn't feel and didn't have the words to express what they were feeling.  I feel too much and I write to process that, so this song and I just weren't connecting.  Then I did a quick review of Rossetti's life history and remembered about her religious experiences and her struggle with depression.  Suddenly, I found my connections to the song.  These ideas may not in actuality resemble anything that Rossetti or Courtney were thinking, but it gave my a direction for my own explorations.  I now have three different lenses through which to filter the truth of this song:  depression, religion, and the two of them entwined. 

Let's start with religion.

What would I give for a heart, 

a heart of flesh to warm me through, 

instead of this heart of stone ice-cold, whatever I do?  

Hard and cold and small, 

of all hearts the worst of all. 

Feelings and manifestations of the spirit are often intertwined.  We speak of a burning in the bosom as confirmation of a spiritual truth or experience.  We talk about hard hearts, closed to truth and light.
We don't talk about large, warm, open hearts enough, but they are implied as the opposite of those hard hearts we are warned about.  

Imagine someone desperate for spiritual guidance sitting through a church experience (which everyone later describes as incredibly spiritual) and feeling nothing, except how defective they must be to not feel what everyone else seems to be experiencing.  

What would I give for words, 

if only words would come?

But now in its misery

my spirit has fallen dumb.  

O merry friends, go your own way,

I have never a word to say.  

Imagine sitting in a church meeting and hearing words that instead of inspiring you, hurt you deeply.  And in that pain, you can't find the words or the courage to speak up and speak out.  The conversations after the service are all bubbly and positive, but you walk away because you don't want your pain to pull them down.  Plus, they probably wouldn't understand anyway and would just try to fix you.  

What would I give for tears?  

Not smiles but scalding tears, 

to wash the black mark clean,

and to thaw the frost of years, 

to wash the stain ingrain,

and to make me clean again.  

Again, imagine that you've been told that there is something wrong with you and that it must be because of sin and the only way to be free of that is through "godly sorrow", but you know that all the tears in the world can't change this, because it is part of who you are.  

Let's shift gears slightly at look at this from the perspective of clinical depression.  

What would I give for a heart,

a heart of flesh to warm me through, 

instead of this heart of stone ice-cold, 

whatever I do?  

Hard and cold and small, 

of all hearts the worst of all. 

Some people think that being depressed is about being sad and crying all the time.  Sometimes it is that, but there is also a kind of depression where you just become numb.  You don't feel anything.  You no longer enjoy activities, and you also can't muster the energy to care about it enough to grieve those lost experiences.  You just feel nothing.  Dull, empty nothingness.  In those moments you wish for something, even pain to break you out of the spell.  

What would I give for words, 

if only words would come?

But now in its misery

my spirit has fallen dumb.  

O merry friends, go your own way,

I have never a word to say.  

Words feed my soul.  Words help me clarify what I feel.  But sometimes, in the depth of depression, there are no words.  It's not writers block, which to me is about a lack of inspiration and direction.  It is total emptiness.  I can't speak of where I am and I can't write about it.  

What would I give for tears?  

Not smiles but scalding tears, 

to wash the black mark clean,

and to thaw the frost of years, 

to wash the stain ingrain,

and to make me clean again.  

At this point, you'll take anything, even if it is tears that are required to break the cycle.  Can you cry away the emptiness?  Can this defect be removed?  Can I be whole again?

Now take a moment to explore what depression plus religion might feel like by going back and re-reading.  Read the stanza of poetry, then the possible religious interpretation, and finally the view from depression.  Together, it is dark and not completely without hope, but close.  

The composer chooses to repeat "What would I give?" as the last line of the song.  The singer ends on the tonic of the minor key, so we know that things didn't improve immediately (which might have been indicated with a Picardy third).  We are left to wonder and wait, in much the same way the subject of the poem does. 

I haven't decided yet exactly what this song means to me, but living with those questions and options keeps me open to discovering even more depth.  

I Am the Wind

With my initial reading of "What Would I Give?" I didn't understand the words, but I was drawn to them somehow.  When I first sang Courntey's setting of the Zoe Akins poem, "I Am the Wind" I didn't experience that pull, from the text or the music.  But last night, that changed.  Again, the song is in a minor key, so maybe that is what pulled me to it last night.  The basic idea is of the poem is that you (whoever it is ) and I (whoever I am) are opposites.  I'm not big on black and white thinking, which is what this seemed to me at first.  

I am the wind that wavers,

you are the certain land; 

I am the shadow that passes

over the sand.  

I am the leaf that quivers, 

you the unshaken tree; 

you are the stars that are steadfast, 

I am the sea.  

You are the light eternal, 

like a torch I shall die; 

you are the surge of deep music, 

I but  a cry!

I first read this thinking of someone talking to their love.  "I am" and "you are" seemed an invitation to declare one good and the other bad, or one strong and one weak, but based on the way she set it, I don't think Vicki Tucker Courtney was thinking of it that way.  "I am the sea" is strong and powerful; it is really the climax of this song, so I doubt that Courtney read "the sea" as wishy-washy or the opposite of steadfast.  

Again, because I've been thinking a lot about religion lately, I saw this as possibly a description of a relationship with a church and/or God.  

I am the wind that wavers,

you are the certain land; 

I have lots of questions.  Maybe I'm unsteady or unreliable.  The church sets itself up as certain and solid and unchanging.  

I am the shadow that passes

over the sand.  

Maybe my questions darken the way of those who think they are on solid land.  But sand is not one piece of solid land.    It is billions of individual pieces that move and shift with the wind or the tide.  

I am the leaf that quivers, 

you the unshaken tree; 

I am part of the whole.  Yes, I shake and move with the wind, but the tree stays rooted and never moves.  

you are the stars that are steadfast, 

I am the sea.  

Stars give light and direction.  We think of stars as steadfast and unchanging, but in reality, they too are moving and changing, just at a rate much slower than we are.  "I am the sea."  I am alive with change.  I am the crystal clear water through which you can see to the bottom of the sea hundreds of feet below.  I am also the rolling and surging water of the waves.  I am a powerful force for change.  

The first two stanza's begin with what I am and how that is different from what you are (in this interpretation, from the church.)

For me, that changes with the last stanza.  The church is neither "the surge of deep music", nor "the light eternal."  It's no longer about the church.  It's about God.  Like God, I am a light, but my own individual influence will pass.  God's light will continue to shine.  The "surge of deep music" again is bigger than anything I can accomplish or do.  This isn't about torches or cries not mattering, because they do.  But there is something bigger and grander in play.  Bigger than me, and bigger than the church.  

The beautiful thing about poetry is that it doesn't matter if the poet or my high school English teacher see the same meaning in the poems that I do.  The point is that it makes me think and that I find my truth.  Will I see the same things in these poems 20 years down the road?  Who knows?  But for today, I found something of beauty.  That is what matters.  

Pendulums, Paradoxes, and Pachyderms

It's that time again.  This weekend is the semi-annual General Conference of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  Some of my friends are excited for this weekend because it brings them a lot of joy and peace and helps them to re-focus on the things that really matter to them.  Other friends are avoiding it completely or dreading the talks that hurt and open old wounds.  And then my friends that aren't Mormon either don't know it's going on at all or wonder why it is such a big deal.

I'll be honest.  I wasn't sure that I wanted to watch conference this year. With everything that has happened, it just seemed easier to avoid it completely.  But, I believe that there is always a possibility that something could be said that is exactly what I need to hear.  With that in mind, I started thinking about how I can get something from this conference and not let myself be overwhelmed by the drama and the pain.

Years ago, I wrote an essay about pendulums, paradoxes, and pachyderms.  It was focused mostly on teaching singing, but I realized that those ideas can be expanded to include spirituality in general, and General Conference specifically. So now, you get the revise version of the essay.

Pendulums

In my early years of voice training, I would go to one lesson, learn a concept, apply it all week, and then go back, only to have the teacher give me almost the exact opposite advice the next week.  For a black and white thinker who was also a people pleaser, this was extremely confusing and frustrating for me.  I would think I had something figured out and that I was doing what had been asked of me, and then it seemed like everything I was doing was wrong.  Unfortunately, no one had ever explained the pendulum principle of teaching to me.  I figured it out on my own and now share it with all my students so that they know what is going on.  

Here's the basic idea:  Sometimes in an attempt to correct, we steer in the opposite direction.  If the pendulum has swung too far to the right, we send it left to correct.  In fact, we don't even send it.  The extreme position itself creates the move in the opposite direction.  Often the pendulum swings back and forth several times before finally settling to rest in the center.  

If a voice student comes in with a muffled, woofy, dark sound, a teacher might use imagery and instructions that help the student bring the sound more forward (singing into the mask, aiming the sound at the upper teeth, etc.)  A student may need to think about being bright or forward in order to actually bring the tone to a balanced place.  

We get into trouble when we confuse the thought process or imagery with the actual goal.  If the student mentioned above corrects their tone production, but thinks that thinking of bright and forward is the solution to every person's tone problem, that student will not be a good teacher.  If they encounter someone who is already quite bright and forward, and even pinched in the way they are producing their sound, it will be disastrous to ask them to do more of that.  One of my colleagues refers to that as "peeling the paint off the walls."  The student with the bright and tight voice needs a different solution to help him or her find the most beautiful tone possible.  

I personally think that much of religion is swinging the pendulum.  Policies, rules, commandments, etc. are about reversing the direction when we're headed the wrong way, but that doesn't mean that the rule itself is the goal.  For example, the Mormon church and many evangelical Christian churches have in recent years experienced a renewed focus on modesty.  In reaction to the sexualization of the female body, churches are more and more encouraging people (especially females) to cover up.  In the 50's and 60's, shoulders were not a modesty issue (see pictures of Anne Romney before she and Mitt were married, or google BYU Homecoming queens from that era), but today, Mormons are encouraged to cover up more, and some are even putting short sleeved shirts under infants' sleeveless sundresses.  

So what do pendulums mean for my General Conference experience this year?  Pendulums remind me to look for the principle, not just the action or rule.  

John Taylor, the third President of the Church, reported: “Some years ago, in Nauvoo, a gentleman in my hearing, a member of the Legislature, asked Joseph Smith how it was that he was enabled to govern so many people, and to preserve such perfect order; remarking at the same time that it was impossible for them to do it anywhere else. Mr. Smith remarked that it was very easy to do that. ‘How?’ responded the gentleman; ‘to us it is very difficult.’ Mr. Smith replied, ‘I teach them correct principles, and they govern themselves.’”

from Teachings of the Presidents of the Church: Joseph Smith

Pendulums remind me to ask, "Why?"  Pendulums remind me that I need to see the goal, not just all the minute adjustments in course that take me there.

Paradoxes

Paradoxes are seemingly contradictory things that are both true.  One of the best examples of this in singing is chiaroscuro.  We don't want just bright.  We don't want just dark.  We don't want the place between the two (like we might get with swinging the pendulum.)  We want them both.  Bright and dark at the same time.  This description from wikipedia is actually pretty good.  

Chiaroscuro (Italian for "light-dark") is part of bel canto an originally Italian classical singing technique in which a brilliant sound referred to as squillo is coupled with a dark timbre called scuro, which is often perceived as having great depth or warmth. Chiaroscuro is commonly used in opera. Within operatic singing, especially in Italian, the vowel "Ah" is a perfect example of where chiaroscuro can be used. When singing "Ah" it must have a bright Italian "Ah", while at the same time having depth and space in the tone, achieved through the use of breath and the body.

It's easy to read scripture or listen to General Conference and find lots of contradictions.  It's also easy to then dismiss the information because of the contradiction, but what if both ideas are true?

We don't have to go back any further than the conference of April 2013 for a good example of where this might be the case.  President Boyd K. Packer warned us of the tolerance trap in his address, "These Things I Know."  At the conclusion of the April 2013 conference, President Thomas S. Monson said,

I admonish you to be good citizens of the nations in which you live and good neighbors in your communities, reaching out to those of other faiths as well as to our own. May we be tolerant of, as well as kind and loving to, those who do not share our beliefs and our standards. The Savior brought to this earth a message of love and goodwill to all men and women. May we ever follow His example.

So which is it?  Should we be tolerant or is tolerance a trap?  Maybe the answer is both.

As I watch and listen to conference, I need to remind myself to be open to the possibilities of paradoxes.  I need to let myself wrestle with the contradictions until the truth can find it's way to the surface.  I need to remember that it doesn't have to be one way or the other.  It can be both.

Pachyderms

There is an old tale of an elephant and some blind men.  Each of the men examines a part of the elephant, and thinking that it is representative of the whole, declares their truth about what an elephant is.  The man who has examined the trunk of the elephant declares that an elephant is a snake-like creature.  The man who felt the strong, thick leg of the elephant says that an elephant is like a tree.  And the story goes on, each man describing their own truth, but unable to "see" the truth of what an elephant really is until they share their individual perceptions to create a complete picture.  

I think that truth is an infinitely large table on which we place our individual tiny circles of experience and perceived truth.  It becomes an infinitely large and multi-dimensional Venn diagram.  Those places of intersection, the places where multiple circles overlap,  are where culture, society, and religion grow.  We have a shared truth.  But we get into trouble if the only truth we allow or accept is that which falls in the overlapping areas of the majority of the group.  

Brigham Young declared, 

“Mormonism,” so-called, embraces every principle pertaining to life and salvation, for time and eternity. No matter who has it. If the infidel has got truth it belongs to “Mormonism.” The truth and sound doctrine possessed by the sectarian world, and they have a great deal, all belong to this Church. As for their morality, many of them are, morally, just as good as we are. All that is good, lovely, and praiseworthy belongs to this Church and Kingdom. “Mormonism” includes all truth. There is no truth but what belongs to the Gospel. It is life, eternal life; it is bliss; it is the fulness of all things in the gods and in the eternities of the gods (DBY, 3).

Truth is both bigger and more beautiful than we can even begin to imagine.  It cannot be contained in a single sermon or even the entirety of this conference weekend.  In this video, Elder Holland talks about the prayerful preparation that goes into these talks.


I have no trouble believing that someone in the world needs to hear the words as they are delivered.  I also believe that some of the messages won't apply to all of us.   We're often encouraged to "Follow the Prophet," but it's also important to remember that we are entitled to receive personal revelation about how those things should be applied in our lives.  Elder Oaks addressed that idea this way,

If you feel you are a special case, so that the strong counsel I have given doesn’t apply to you, please don’t write me a letter. Why would I make this request? I have learned that the kind of direct counsel I have given results in a large number of letters from members who feel they are an exception, and they want me to confirm that the things I have said just don’t apply to them in their special circumstance.
I will explain why I can’t offer much comfort in response to that kind of letter by telling you an experience I had with another person who was troubled by a general rule. I gave a talk in which I mentioned the commandment “Thou shalt not kill” (Ex. 20:13). Afterward a man came up to me in tears saying that what I had said showed there was no hope for him. “What do you mean?” I asked him.
He explained that he had been a machine gunner during the Korean War. During a frontal assault, his machine gun mowed down scores of enemy infantry. Their bodies were piled so high in front of his gun that he and his men had to push them away in order to maintain their field of fire. He had killed a hundred, he said, and now he must be going to hell because I had spoken of the Lord’s commandment “Thou shalt not kill.”
The explanation I gave that man is the same explanation I give to you if you feel you are an exception to what I have said. As a General Authority, I have the responsibility to preach general principles. When I do, I don’t try to define all the exceptions. There are exceptions to some rules. For example, we believe the commandment is not violated by killing pursuant to a lawful order in an armed conflict. But don’t ask me to give an opinion on your exception. I only teach the general rules. Whether an exception applies to you is your responsibility. You must work that out individually between you and the Lord.
The Prophet Joseph Smith taught this same thing in another way. When he was asked how he governed such a diverse group of Saints, he said, “I teach them correct principles, and they govern themselves.” ⁴ In what I have just said, I am simply teaching correct principles and inviting each one of you to act upon these principles by governing yourself.

The messages we hear at General Conference will be general rules and guidelines designed to address the needs of the majority of the people listening.  Not every message will inspire or even apply to every person.  It is quite possible that the same message that causes pain for one person might be exactly the thing another person needs to bring peace and joy to his or her life.  In cases like that, I would hope that the person who felt joy would be able to honor the pain of the other, without trying to convince them that it is wrong to feel that way.  And I would hope that it works the other way too.  Can I find a way to rejoice with my brothers and sisters over the things they love, without telling them how wrong they are, even if it is wrong for me?  

This year, for conference I'm listening differently.  I'm listening for the messages that are there for me, and letting go of those that may be helpful for others, but are not helping me right now.  I'm listening for things that might cause pain to people I love and getting ready to be there to support them in that pain.  I'm listening for things that bring strength to people I love so I can support them in that too.  But mostly I'm listening because I can't honestly say I'm searching for truth if I cut off this avenue that for me still holds the possibility of more truth.  

Armor Up, Part II

To read part one of this blog, go here.  

As I started digging and writing, I realized that the first nine words of this scripture could have a lengthy blog post of their own.  Armor Up is now a series, so you don't have to commit a lot of time in one sitting.

Previously on Armor Up

My scripture study is most effective and enlightening when I pull in information and comparisons from other sources, especially those that at the surface don't seem very related.  Armor provides protection, but armoring up can also cut us off from relationships, creativity, insights, and truth.  If we view our armor as a Wei Qi field that interacts and communicates with energy fields around us, we are looking at something very different from the rigid, solid, armor that lets nothing touch us.  Now we move on to the specific pieces of armor, what they look like, and what they can do for us.  

"Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth"

Stand

Stand.  Not sit.  Not run or walk.  Stand.  

There is something in this word that implies grounding, finding our strength from being solidly centered in one place.  We sometimes call tai chi moving meditation.  There are also still forms of meditation that involve standing.  Through a point in the bottom of the foot called the bubbling well, we can draw up energy from the earth.  It is our connection to the earth and earth energy.  

The scriptures are fully of examples of standing in holy places.  Here's one:

But my disciples shall stand in holy places, and shall not be moved
Doctrine and Covenents 45:32

Loins Girt

Girdles or belts can represent many things.  The literal and historical usage of this from the times of the Bible was to take the belt that secured the tunic and use it to tie up a person's garments between the legs to make it easy to work or do battle.  I find it interesting that an item that I normally think of as constricting or holding something in, was actually used to create more freedom of movement.  Someone whose loins were girt was prepared and ready for action.  

If you want to explore more of the biblical use of girdles, this article is good.  

The belt or girdle as part of armor serves to protect the lower organs.  It also secures other pieces of armor.  A utility belt, as worn by a police officer or carpenter or Batman, serves as a storage place for items essential to the wearer that he or she may need to access quickly, easily, or frequently.  A belt might indicate rank or status.  In literature and mythology, we find belts that protect, belts that strengthen (Thor's belt doubled his strength), and belts that give some kind of power.  Belts may also represent purity and chastity.  

For Mormons, probably the most familiar usage of these terms comes from the beloved hymn, "Come, Come Ye Saints":

Gird up your loins; fresh courage take.
Our God will never us forsake;

It's the refrain of "you can do it!" that the pioneers sang across the plains. We sing it to honor them and to remind ourselves that we are not alone.  I don't think it is by mere chance that the poet chose to link preparedness, courage, and trusting in God.  

I also like to think of girding my loins as gathering energy into my lower dan tian.  It's not an exact equivalent to loins as far as anatomy goes, but as the main storage place of energy in the body, I do think it serves that same purpose as the belt of helping us prepare and be strong.  

Truth

So we are in a position of strength (standing), prepared for what lies ahead (loins girt), but what is it that actually gives us that strength?  Truth.  

Talking about truth can get messy.  It's not as black and white as we would like it to be.  Not everything is either pure truth or pure falsehood. Philosophers have fought over the meaning of truth for centuries. Who am I to give the definitive answer?  

Here is what I believe.  There are some things that are objectively and absolutely true.  I believe that there are natural laws that exists outside of and independent of God's power.  He may know them well enough to work with them or around them, but even he is limited by them.  I believe that those things are truths.  

Buddhists believe in cause and effect (which is actually what karma is all about.)  Every action has a consequence.  Right thinking and right actions are those that lead us to a place of more compassion and less fear, hate, and attachment.  (Yes, I know that this is super simplified, but remember I'm trying to keep this short.) To me, that is truth.  

I think truth can also be very personal.  My own life experiences are my truth.  Recently it has become very important for me to share my story, to speak my truth, and to encourage others to do the same.  Telling our stories creates openness.  It allows the world to see who we really are and what has shaped us.  It creates vulnerability, yes, but it is only through vulnerability that we can connect to others.  While exposing our own vulnerability, speaking our truth opens up a place of safety for others.  

Whether truth is an eternal unchanging principle or our own experiences and personal convictions, the value and strength that come from truth is unlimited.  I've never been particularly fond of this hymn, but  today, it popped into my head and I realized how profoundly it addresses exactly what I want to say here.  I've underline my favorite parts.  

1. Oh say, what is truth? 'Tis the fairest gem
That the riches of worlds can produce,
And priceless the value of truth will be when
The proud monarch's costliest diadem
Is counted but dross and refuse.
2. Yes, say, what is truth? 'Tis the brightest prize
To which mortals or Gods can aspire.
Go search in the depths where it glittering lies,
Or ascend in pursuit to the loftiest skies:
'Tis an aim for the noblest desire.
3. The sceptre may fall from the despot's grasp
When with winds of stern justice he copes.
But the pillar of truth will endure to the last,
And its firm-rooted bulwarks outstand the rude blast
And the wreck of the fell tyrant's hopes.
4. Then say, what is truth? 'Tis the last and the first,
For the limits of time it steps o'er.
Tho the heavens depart and the earth's fountains burst,
Truth, the sum of existence, will weather the worst,
Eternal, unchanged, evermore.

Jesus declared

I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.
John 14:6

George Herbert wrote these words (and Ralph Vaughan Williams set them to music)

Come, my Way, my Truth, my Life:
such a way as gives us breath,
such a truth as ends all strife,
such a life as killeth death. 

I love that.  "Such as truth as ends all strife."  Wow.  

I also found this nugget of wisdom from our friends at wikipdedia.

Thus, 'truth' involves both the quality of "faithfulness, fidelity, loyalty, sincerity, veracity",^[5] and that of "agreement with factor reality", in Anglo-Saxon expressed by sōþ (Modern English sooth)All Germanic languages besides English have introduced a terminological distinction between truth "fidelity" and truth "factuality".

Fascinating.  

Truth ends bitterness, anger, violence.  Truth is the only access to the Father.

I'm not exactly sure how to describe what I think about truth in terms of energy.  If all thought and all matter are actually energy, perhaps truth is the energy that is vibrating at the highest frequency.  Whatever it is, it holds an element of purity.  It gives us strength. 

"Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth"

The first thing I must do when I armor up is open up. I open myself to be receptive to the good in the world, that which restores and renews. Through stillness (or simple motions) I draw in the energy of the earth and the sky. I store that energy in my lower dan tian. I honor my own past and wrap the lessons of that past around me giving me strength as I look toward the future. I am prepared. I am ready to put on the rest of the armor and anchor it in this strength. 

 

Coming Soon: Armor Up Part III, The Breastplate of Righteousness

Hard Hearts and Closed Minds

Today, I read this:
"And therefore, he that will harden his heart, the same receiveth the lesser portion of the word..." Alma 12:10

And being the articulate, thoughtful person that I am I said,"Well, duh!" If you don't let it in, you are not going to get anything from it. For the first time, I made the connection that hard hearts are closed minds, and hearts that are not hard are open minds. Sometimes we miss out on the greater portion of the word because we've already decided the one and only thing that it can mean and we close ourselves off to all other possibilities.

"I will give unto the children of men line upon line, precept upon precept, here a little and there a little" 2 Nephi 2:30 (Italics are mine.)

We talk a lot in church about the "line upon line" part, but it seems like we interpret the "here a little" part as referring to different times. My personal belief is that it also refers to different places and sources. Are we willing to open ourselves to truth from a source other than an approved church manual? The gospel encompasses all truth, and I believe that that includes some things that we don't talk about at church.

"Yea, wo be unto him that saith: We have received, and we need no more!" 2 Nephi 28:27

Hopefully I won't offend too many people here, but I worry about people that read only their scriptures, or maybe books published by Deseret Book. Yes, there is a wealth of information and truth there, but there is amazing truth outside of that narrow focus as well. My testimony has been strengthened by reading the writings of Pope John Paul II, Mother Teresa, Jimmy Carter, Mary Baker Eddy and others. No, I don't agree with them on everything, but they have brought light and truth to my life. For me, 2 Nephi 28:27, in addition to addressing the issue of continuing revelation, addresses the need to look outside ourselves and the truths within an easy reach. It invites us to continue questioning and searching and growing. It invites us to open our minds and hearts to truth.

There are 3 things that I believe. First, that truth can be found in many places. Second, that it's perfectly OK and even good to remove that truth from its original context and find how it applies to my life right now. Third, we find truth and its application to our lives when we are ready for it.
So, yesterday I flipped open my scripture a day calendar and found truth that has been staring me in the face my whole life, but I just wasn't ready for it.

Alma 29:1 (That's in the Book of Mormon for you non-Mormons.)
Oh that I were an angel, and could have the wish of mine heart, that I might go forth and speak with the trump of God, with a voice to shake the earth, and cry repentance unto every people.

Let me give you a little background as to why I never found truth here before. First of all, this is a often quoted scripture in Mormondom. As I'm sure you know, missionary work is big in this church. In fact, I've often complained that we talk more about missionary work than the gospel itself, but that's a post for another day. When my bishop asked me if I was interested in going on a mission, my reply was that I just didn't feel it was the right thing at that point in my life. And that was the truth. My personal feelings about missionary work are that if I am living in a way that people see something that they want, then they will ask me about it. I've never been a go out and tell the world person. I'm a little that way in advertising for voice lessons as well. Yes, I am the one that goes to Orientation and Open House to talk to parents and kids about lessons, but generally I believe that the work I do speaks for itself. If students like what happens in my studio, they will tell friends and family.

So, I've never been one to go out and tell the world to change their lives. I also really had an issue with "crying repentance". The images that came to mind with that phrase are of people on street corners yelling that we are all doomed to Hell unless we change our evil ways.

But yesterday when I read this verse, "crying repentance" meant sharing the joy that we don't have to be stuck in awful situations. Repentance is about life changes. It's about moving forward in positive ways. That is something that I want to share with every people.

So instead of just being done with scriptures for the day, I opened my Book of Mormon to the full chapter to see what else was there. I'll be honest, some of it still doesn't sit very well with me, but I also saw that Alma's feelings about "crying repentance" are very similar to my feelings about teaching people to sing. My comments are in bold.

6 Now, seeing that I know these things, why should I desire more than to perform the work to which I have been called? Sometimes I feel like I should be doing more or doing something that carries more prestige (performing professionally or teaching at a university instead of high school). I know, however, that I am doing what I am supposed to be doing. This is where I'm supposed to be and where I can make a difference.

8 For behold, the Lord doth grant unto all nations, of their own nation and tongue, to teach his word, yea, in wisdom, all that he seeth fit that they should have; therefore we see that the Lord doth counsel in wisdom, according to that which is just and true. I don't have to save the art of singing all by myself. Wonderful teachers and performers are in place to help make sure that happens. I just need to take care of my kids.

9 I know that which the Lord hath commanded me, and I glory in it. I do not glory of myself, but I glory in that which the Lord hath commanded me; yea, and this is my glory, that perhaps I may be an instrument in the hands of God to bring some soul to repentance; and this is my joy. Singing and teaching are not about me and my ego. It's about the music and when I can help someone find joy in their lives through music, then I find joy as well. I love being the person that brings light and truth. And I'm glad that God, the universe, and my co-workers have trusted me with this task.

10 And behold, when I see many of my brethren truly penitent, and coming to the Lord their God, then is my soul filled with joy; then do I remember what the Lord has done for me, yea, even that he hath heard my prayer; yea, then do I remember his merciful arm which he extended towards me. I have been given the amazing gift of music and I am so thankful for it in my life.


14 But I do not joy in my own success alone, but my joy is more full because of the success of my brethren, who have been up to the land of Nephi.

15 Behold, they have labored exceedingly, and have brought forth much fruit; and how great shall be their reward!

16 Now, when I think of the success of these my brethren my soul is carried away, even to the separation of it from the body, as it were, so great is my joy.
It's not just my singing that brings joy into my life. When my students make beautiful sound or discover something new in themselves, or when my colleagues have success in their teaching and performing, it gives me joy. There is not a limit on the amount of joy that can exist. Others succeeding does not take anything away from me.

So there you have it--The Gospel According to Jeannine