Pam Peebles

During his talk at this last October Conference, I felt so much love and compassion for him as he described his frustration with his eyesight. His inability to see the teleprompters to give the talk he had prepared. So he gave a beautiful testimony of the Prophet Joseph Smith and of our Savior Jesus Christ. 

I look back now at some of the words he spoke:  

Oh, how I love you. What a glorious experience that’s been—to look into your faces, be in your presence, and feel your love that you have for the Lord and for the Restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Little did we know that this would be the last time he would join us at General Conference. I shall miss this great man.

Grandpa Energy & A Testimony of Christ

Stephen Smoot

I first met M. Russell Ballard as a teenager when he came to speak to the ward I grew up in (the Monument Park 16th Ward). I recall that the third hour (remember that?) was canceled, and the ward was asked to come back to the chapel to hear Elder Ballard speak. He spoke for about 25 minutes and then opened the floor for questions. I still remember him smiling and saying, “Now, brothers and sisters, even though I’m an apostle, I don’t know everything. So please don’t ask me where Kolob is.”

When I met him, I recall Elder Ballard exuding the most off-the-charts wholesome grandpa energy I’d ever encountered. That has stuck with me ever since, and I always noticed it in his speeches, especially his extemporaneous ones.

The last time I met Elder Ballard in person was on August 2, 2021. I had recently found amongst my late grandfather’s papers a bundle of letters written between my grandpa Stephen P. Smoot (whom his friend “Russ” called “Smooter”) and Elder Ballard while they were on their missions in Canada/Hawaii and England, respectively. Our family friend Richard Holzapfel arranged for my father, Stephen Sr., my brother Joey, and I to meet Elder Ballard in his downtown Salt Lake apartment so that we could personally hand the letters back to him (after I had made high-resolution scans of the originals, of course). We met for about an hour, and Elder Ballard still had that wholesome grandpa energy I first encountered as a teenager. It hadn’t dimmed one bit. I was happy to learn that upon his death, Elder Ballard’s papers would pass into the possession of the Church, where they (including my grandpa’s precious letters) would remain safe in the Church History Library.

Anyway, this is all to say I am going to really miss Elder Ballard and his sweet, infectious wholesomeness. I will miss his distinctive voice at General Conference every six months, although I am so happy to know he is reunited with Sister Ballard, and together they now reside restfully in the bosom of Abraham.

To honor and commemorate the memory of Elder Ballard on the occasion of his passing, I will share some things he wrote to my grandpa in those missionary letters I returned to him. The first is from a letter dated December 18, 1948 (spelling original):

“What a blessing it is to know that ‘My Redeemer Lives’ and that if I prove worthy throughout my life, it is my blessing to stand with Him in the Celestial Kingdom of glory worlds without end. I would never excuss myself from my obligations to my Father in Heaven, but I always hope I can be humble and prayerful, asking [for] guidance and help each day that I live.”

Here is another from a letter dated June 12, 1948 (spelling original):

“Steve, I love this work more than anything I have ever been in. . . . I know that the spirit of the work that I have is a blessing of my Father in Heaven, and I hope I will always be worthy of it.”

God bless you, Elder Ballard. 

Well Wishes for a Voyage Ahead

Gale Boyd 

In 1983, our family was scheduled to relocate to Israel. We wanted to know if there would be anything we should know or keep in mind. We had a personal meeting with Elder Ballard, who counseled us just to be on our best behavior as examples of Christ and the Church. He really was so sweet and grandfatherly. It was very comfortable, even in the presence of a General Authority.

Boldness in Crying Repentance

David Grant

When we lived in Cedar City, Utah, Elder Ballard was speaking at a multi-stake conference. He stood at the pulpit and said the following (paraphrased): “There is someone in this audience who is abusing his family. If this behavior does not cease this instant, your condemnation will be assured. You are to repent immediately, confessing your sins to your ecclesiastical leaders.” He then went on to give his prepared remarks. 

An Example of Family

Morgan Anderson

In his address at the Ninth World Congress of Families, Ballard emphasized the eternal significance of marriage, stating, “Temples are very important to Latter-day Saints because, in them, couples are married for time and eternity, not just till death do they part.”​​ This highlights the sacredness of marriage in the LDS faith, not as a temporary union but as an eternal bond ordained by God and central to His plan for His children.

Reflecting on his own life, Ballard’s heartfelt testimony after the passing of his wife, Barbara, sheds light on the personal significance of these eternal marriages. He shared, “This testimony has comforted and strengthened me during the past four and a half years since my wife, Barbara, passed away. I miss her … I felt that she and I belonged together.”​​ This personal reflection touched me and helped me realize the profound impact of eternal marriage on individual lives.

For me, President Ballard’s teachings on family and marriage, viewed through my own world lens, highlight the sanctity of eternal marriage, the personal commitment required in family relationships, and the eternal nature of these bonds as central to God’s plan for His children.

An Honor to Serve the Lord

Carl Cranney

Elder Ballard visited my mission—the New York New York North Mission—in 2002. I can distinctly remember one thing that he said to us. As near as I can recollect, he said something along the lines of, “You could not pay me enough to do this job. It is too strenuous, too heart-wrenching, too emotionally challenging. But it is an honor to do so for my Lord Jesus Christ.”

All missions are a combination of highs and lows, and while I do not remember if that portion of my mission was one or the other, that off-handed statement of his resonated very strongly with me. You could not pay me enough to go on a mission for the Church again. But it would be an honor to do so for my Lord Jesus Christ.

A Beacon for a Generation of Missionaries

C.D. Cunningham

For Latter-day Saints of my generation M. Russell Ballard was the face of sharing the gospel. It was his remarks that asked us to meet the challenge of “raising the bar” for missionaries. And he spearheaded the writing of a new training manual for missionaries, Preach My Gospel. 

But for many years, Ballard’s book “Our Search for Happiness” was the easiest to read book in the “Missionary Library,” a set of books each missionary was expected to have and read. His accessible and heartfelt prose meant it was often the first and most-read book of the collection. The book’s simple message was that the gospel of Jesus Christ not only promised happiness in the world to come but happiness in the here and now. It gave missionaries an easy-to-understand raison d’être—we were helping people find happiness through Jesus Christ. 

The post A Final Sermon: Remembering M. Russell Ballard appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

In my most recent article for Public Square, I gave examples of this work in the arena of maternal health. A recent event in Mongolia presented another example of the expansive good Latter-day Saint women do and how the Church of Jesus Christ leads in an international context on women’s issues in culturally aware and sensitive ways.

The scriptures and teachings of the Church continually underscore the significance of women. Women serve in various capacities, from missionary work to teaching the gospel and caring for the needy. Every woman in the Church is entrusted with the responsibility to understand and champion her divine roles, whether as a mother, daughter, sister, or friend.

A Woman in Mongolia

On September 3, in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia, Pope Francis hosted an interfaith gathering bringing together representatives from diverse religious backgrounds. From Mongolian Buddhists to Jews, Muslims, and adherents of the Shinto tradition, each shared their unique perspectives and teachings.

Sister Tuvshinjargal “Tuvshin” Gombo represented The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. As I reflect on her participation, I’m filled with a sense of pride and admiration. Tuvshin emphasized the universal kinship of humanity, stating, “We are brothers and sisters, all children of the same Eternal Father.” Central to her message was the figure of Jesus Christ, described as “the way, the truth, and the life,” whose teachings act as a beacon guiding the faithful. She urged all to “love one another, seek understanding and compassion, and strive for harmony amidst our diversity.” Drawing from Mongolian culture, she likened the shelter of the Mongolian ger, a traditional home, to the commitment of Latter-day Saints in Mongolia to follow Christ, seeing Him as the source of unity and peace. Her vision of a world “where love prevails, where families are strengthened, and where all God’s children find hope, acceptance, purpose, and peace” resonates deeply with the core teachings of the Church.

Among the many powerful messages Tuvshin delivered was her presence—the sole female representative at the event. In a gathering of this magnitude and importance, our Church was the only one to send a woman as its ambassador. This decision, while seemingly simple, speaks volumes. It underscores the Church’s recognition of the vital roles women play, not just within our congregations but in representing our faith on global platforms to speak about the power of Jesus Christ. 

Women of Mongolia

Mongolia has long been a nation that is progressive in the role of women. During the era of the Mongol Empire, women shouldered responsibilities alongside men, from tending to animals and setting up camps to childrearing and food production. Their rights, surprisingly progressive for the time, allowed them to own property, participate in religious ceremonies, and even ascend to the roles of shamans. The voices of women, especially those in elite ranks, were heard and valued. Some even reigned as regents. Their expertise in managing camps was pivotal in the logistics of Mongol warfare.

Historically, Mongolian women enjoyed a status often higher than their counterparts in other Asian societies. When Tuvshin drew parallels between the safety of Christ and the traditional Mongolian ger, she called on this long history of deep-rooted respect for women in Mongolian culture and their significance in the Church.

In this context, the Church’s decision to send a woman representative to Mongolia is profound. It not only aligns with Mongolia’s historical respect for women but also underscores the Church’s commitment to elevating the voices of women on global platforms in ways that are culturally appropriate in a worldwide context. 

Elevating Women in Interfaith Dialogues

Tuvshin’s vision of a world ‘where love prevails, where families are strengthened, and where all God’s children find hope, acceptance, purpose, and peace’ is a testament to the Church’s commitment to elevating women. Her words not only represent our Church’s teachings but also echo universal values that transcend religious boundaries.

The Church of Jesus Christ made a statement by sending Tuvshin as the Church’s representative. This decision, while perhaps subtle to some, speaks volumes about the Church’s egalitarian stance on women’s roles. It’s a visual testament to our belief in the equal capacities of men and women. They have the knowledge, the conviction, and the spirit to represent our teachings on any platform, be it local or international.

In a world where the roles of women in religious settings are often underrepresented, the Church’s decision is a beacon of hope. It reaffirms our commitment to elevating women, recognizing their invaluable contributions, and ensuring that their voices are not just heard but celebrated.

A Global Faith

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has always recognized the unparalleled influence of women in forwarding the gospel kingdom. When women unite in purpose, their collective influence for good knows no bounds.

This legacy continues as more sister missionaries assume leadership roles, actively shaping the future of our faith. The Church continually encourages its members to recognize the power and influence of women, not just in scriptures and history, but in daily life—families, communities, and the world at large.

Tuvshin’s emphasis on ‘love, understanding, compassion, and the teachings of Jesus Christ’ during the interfaith event in Mongolia serves as a reminder of the Church’s global mission. Her words resonate with the Church’s efforts in championing women’s rights and roles, demonstrating that meaningful progress often requires understanding and patience rather than imposing a singular Western perspective.

In sum, while the Church, like any global institution, faces challenges and criticisms, its commitment to elevating and empowering women is unwavering—a testament to its foundational teachings and the ever-evolving role of women within its fold. Tuvshin’s call to “emulate Christ’s example, an exemplar of love, forgiveness, and selflessness” encapsulates the Church’s vision for all its members, regardless of gender.

The post Shattering the Stained Glass Ceiling: A Latter-day Saint Woman and the Pope appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

In a recent letter to the SUU community, Benson, in her characteristically graceful manner, proposes that this seeming clash of values instead be approached as an opportunity for growth. “Today, we stand at a pivotal moment in our University’s 125-year history. Together we are writing the next chapter in SUU’s inspiring saga. May history say of us that we overcame our differences and found ‘common ground by moving to higher ground.’”

As it turns out, given the news of today’s news from the Church about Elder Holland’s health, he will likely not be speaking at commencement anyway. 

As announced last weekend, Elder Jeffrey R. Holland was excused from general conference due the fact that he and Sister Patricia Holland were both still suffering from the effects of Covid. Elder Holland also recently began treatment for a kidney condition. Consequently, the First Presidency has excused him from all Church assignments and meetings for at least two months to allow his medical treatments and recovery to take full effect. Elder and Sister Holland note their gratitude for all the prayers and outpouring of support offered in their behalf at this time.

One wonders how Benson might be feeling today. At one point in the course of the public controversy at her school, she may have found herself wondering, like many members of the Church occasionally grappling with speeches, policy, callings, or even doctrine not easily understood …  Will I be loyal to my faith? Will I let the spirit guide? Or will I choose what is best for my career – and yield to other voices? Must I choose between them, or is there another way?

Elder Holland has encouragingly reminded us we are made for such time – even made for greater things. His reassurance on precisely thee moments has been heard by Saints around the world. For instance, “Fighting through darkness and despair and pleading for the light is what opened this dispensation. It is what keeps it going, and it is what will keep you going.”    

But this apostle also has consistently pointed us to another who asked such questions, and who fought through even greater darkness.  This Easter season reminds us of the preciousness of life and the good news that Christ overcame what threatens abundant life, while offering us all the gifts to do the same.

There were severe conflicts arising in His own heart and mind as well. Yet in the Garden, He asked, “Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done.”

As Elder Holland takes this space to wrestle with the mortal infirmities that plague us all, he appreciates more than most the ‘why’ of such difficulty.  For he has said, “salvation is not a cheap experience. Salvation never was easy. We are the Church of Jesus Christ, this is the truth, and He is our Great Eternal Head. How could we believe it would be easy for us when it was never, ever easy for Him?” 

May this beloved leader also take comfort in the sustaining love so many show him these days, from university presidents to normal members around the world. Elder Holland, we offer you the same prayers and kindness you have blessed so many with as we recite your own beautiful words, “Keep loving. Keep trying. Keep trusting. Keep believing. Keep growing. “Heaven is cheering you on today, tomorrow, forever.” 

We’re all rooting and cheering you on!

The post Healing Together: Love for Elder Holland appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

By this point, most of us have at least heard of Dr. Jordan Peterson, Canadian psychologist, author, and lecturer. His rise has been a bewildering one, unpredictable and often controversial. The mere mention of his name is met with either praise or derision, prejudice or loyalty. While his fame is widespread, there is one demographic that remains largely ignorant of the work of Jordan Peterson: mothers. Yet for me, a mother of five young children—he has been an unlikely hero, counselor, teacher, and friend.

We mothers could use some help. We are charged with raising the future. And as the world appears to fall apart around us, we feel the weight of our awful responsibility. Political divisions are driving families apart, mental-health issues are skyrocketing in children, teenagers are electronics-addicted and apathetic, and young adults face the horrific reality of modern dating.  Young women are increasingly giving up on the unpaid occupation of motherhood altogether.  Birth rates have remarkably never been lower and many now see bearing a child as an insult to the earth.  Those that are mothers often resent the “menial” nature of the work.  Many mothers rely on medication just to cope. 

Five years ago, with five kids under the age of eight, I wasn’t doing well.  Not only was I weighed down by the daunting world in which I was called to raise children, I felt woefully inadequate as a mother. I was annoyed by the never-ending duties, and I longed for the freedom and accomplishments of my single days.  All this made me discontented and distracted. 

Voices of Affirmation

In faith communities, young mothers are often reassured and praised, perhaps to compensate for the lack of such assurances elsewhere. “Mothers are Angels!”  “You are all doing such a good job!”  At the risk of sounding like a brat, I confess that hearing these encouraging words as an overwhelmed mother of five was astonishingly unhelpful.  Rather than receiving them in gratitude, reassuring statements always seemed to come across as patronizing, shallow, and to top it off—untrue. It wasn’t that I doubted their good intentions—but I wanted something real, something honest.  When I looked around at other mothers and into my own heart, I didn’t see idealized angels; I saw women full of envy, prone to gossip, and depressed.  When I saw disrespectful and undisciplined teenagers in the pews or the toddlers glued to tablets, I asked myself, “Is this what a ‘good job’ in motherhood looks like?”

In the 1960s there was a campaign to change the eating habits of America. Low-fat food was pushed as a healthier alternative, free of harmful fats. They even changed milk. They kept adding water, and more water, until it was almost entirely fat-free, and tasteless.  Almost all Americans bought into the “science” behind this evolution, but women, in particular, clung to it. Today, despite clear evidence showing that pretty much the only thing healthy about milk is the fat, some women remain loyal to skim milk.

Whenever I sensed a tone of condescension accompanying addresses made toward struggling mothers, it felt like a pat on the head, shallow and tasteless—like skim milk. It was never satisfying. I knew men were not getting skim milk, they were publically called to repent for their lust, pride, and greed. But not women—didn’t women need to be saved too?

One Sunday morning stands out as a low point. I sat down at church after a traumatizing morning of trying to dress five small, and particularly disobedient, children for church. I had lost my temper with my six-year-old daughter.  I felt incredibly guilty—even thinking, “I’m a failure as a mother.”  A man got up to speak to the congregation and said joyously, “Women, if we men could just be more like you, we would be in Zion!”  A feeling of deep disappointment came over me—I was so upset that I had to sneak out the back and sit in the car. My husband, confused, asked me later why I had reacted this way. I tried to explain, “I really need to hear something I can use! I am repeatedly being told that it is all gonna be okay, you are doing great. But the house is on fire, and I started it!”

The transition to motherhood was not an easy one for me, which I will discuss further in an upcoming piece. While I felt spiritual renewal at church, I desperately needed some honest and practical wisdom on mothering. I needed to feel more confident in my abilities, and Sunday services weren’t always helping.

So I sought other voices—mommy bloggers, women’s conferences, female life coaches, and podcasters—thinking maybe these feminine experts would be more helpful. But their prevailing message was also one of unbounded affirmation, although with a different twist.  For these more “empowered” women, the key to happiness was to escape the burden of motherhood. “Take time for yourself.” “Be true to yourself.” Women’s mental health, according to them, demanded more time spent on self-fulfillment. But when I looked at those seeking to follow these mommy bloggers or life coaches, I noticed that the more devoted they were to their new life philosophy, the more dissatisfied they became with motherhood. Their children and husbands often became an impediment to their true quest of “discovering themselves.”

It was clear to me that wherever I turned, women seemed to be handled with kid gloves.  In church, no one dared point out our failings. In popular culture, we were told that what was expected of us was too much for us to handle, we were “doing the best we could,” and we should concentrate on seeking “happiness.” Why was it, I wondered, at the point in human history when women are most “empowered,” that messages to women, from the pulpit to popular culture, were so watered-down and shallow. 

I think it is partially due to the common sentiment: Women are hard enough on themselves already so they don’t need anyone to add to that burden.  Yes, there is no doubt we are often too hard on ourselves.  I was too hard on myself five years ago when I labeled myself a “failure.”  We tend to condemn ourselves for any imperfection.  But a misplaced logic has followed that because of this propensity to catastrophize over faults, we should stop examining them. This won’t do, because much of our “burden” is made up of our faults, and refusing to recognize them can have a devastating impact on our progress.  The coddling of women has only increased our burden. In the last 100 years, as financial and social stability has left women with time and energy to seek out affirmation and happiness, we are being fed a steady diet of comforting messages, like “You are doing such a great job!”  As a result, should anyone really be surprised that in our Age of Affirmation, women are desperately unhappy? (See “The Paradox of Declining Female Happiness” and “Women’s Modern Plague of Unhappiness.”)

The more I dove into the “affirming world of women,” the more I concluded that it was not going to help me, for, if the stats were right, it didn’t seem to be helping anyone. What I needed was help in achieving my goal—being a “good” mother.

A Voice of Respect

As I’ve noted, while women are addressed with overflowing validation and approval, men are often addressed with a strong dose of rebuke. Without something more, both tactics can be ruinous to the individuals consuming them. Independent of gender, what we all need is not unmitigated validation or rebuke—but honest encouragement.  This is what I found in Jordan Peterson.  

One of the first videos I saw of Jordan Peterson told me that his voice was different. He told the story of a woman

reclining on her psychiatrist’s couch talking about her many problems. 

After explaining her plight, she tells her therapist, “My only hope is that all of this is my fault.” 

“Why is that?” asked the surprised therapist. 

 “Because then I can do something about it.”

Dr. Peterson went on to explain the necessity, and purpose, found in taking responsibility for our difficulties and being honest about our contribution to them.  “Get your act together bucko!” is his common tagline. 

I heard him describe the archetypal “Devouring Mother” and the damage she could reap on her children.  My suspicions were confirmed that mothers were not faultless, and neither was I.  Here was someone that didn’t use kid gloves.  

His voice said something starkly different than the other “encouragers” I had sought before.  The marked difference helped me recognize what had been missing—respect.  In his words, there was no sign of patronizing.  No hints of shallow affirmation.  No suggestions to shirk responsibility. He spoke the difficult truth and trusted that I, the one listening, could handle it. He kept the fat in the milk and I finally tasted something. He told me clearly that I can do better.  He focused on the purpose, meaning, and depth of life. And I, a struggling mother, felt no burdensome condemnation either. It was the kind but firm voice I had been looking for.  Here was the friend I didn’t know I needed.

“There’s a bunch of ways that you are not being everything you could be, and it’s not supposed to be a whip to knock you down, although it could be a whip to knock down the pride which stops you from being aware of your insufficiencies … it’s more like a call … you can be so much more than you are!” 

Jordan Peterson

In his lectures, books, and podcasts, I heard from a man that passionately cared.  He wasn’t concerned with my comfort, instead, he actually wanted things to improve for me. And the way things improve is through struggle. I now knew I would need to examine the weak points in my mothering—and overcome them.  He did for me what all encouragers should, he ignited my courage. I, an average mother—could become a great one. In reality, Jordan Peterson doesn’t know me from Eve (although he has, amazingly, shown support for my work by sharing a few of my articles).  But he has become my friend nonetheless.

The Call To Become a Good Mother

Five years ago, sitting in that car angry at a well-meaning statement, I wasn’t the woman or the mother I could have been.  Things weren’t as dire as I imagined. I was having a bad day.  Nevertheless, I did feel hopeless.  Not from lack of affirmation, not from repression or overwork, but because I was disappointed in myself.  I had just lashed out unfairly at my sweet little daughter. That was a burden I carried; and for me, it was a heavy one. It joined the weight of my feelings of inadequacy.  I didn’t want to be told that I was a good mother.  I knew I wasn’t (not in that moment).  I didn’t want to be told I was taking on too much burden in raising her. I wasn’t—I am her mother.  What I wanted, and what I found in Jordan Peterson, was another person to help me, to teach me—This is why you yelled, this is why you shouldn’t, this is how you can prevent it, and yes, you can build a beautiful and profoundly important relationship with your daughter.  

While I don’t suggest you lean too heavily on Jordan Peterson for your theological foundation, his message is fundamentally a Christian one—sin is real, we are fallen, but there is redemption. And despite what some pastors may say, women are sinful too. There is no skim milk version of salvation. Like men, we must recognize our envy, our pride, our hedonistic tendency. We should seek to understand our nature so we can avoid being a slave to it.  Only in these honest reflections can we attempt to improve. The awareness of our sins does not condemn us—but the willful ignorance of them may. Sin is a “missing of the mark,” and as women get by on the watered-down affirmations found in the modern world, we risk losing sight of the mark, of our ideal. That ideal is Christ. Only He can bring us to a full understanding and healing of our weakness, and our sin. But it helps to hear voices, such as Dr. Peterson, that don’t allow us to live in naivete and ignorance but who provide tools, knowledge, and confidence that can help us improve. 

 “What you aim at determines what you see.”  Jordan Peterson

Now, five years later—after consuming hundreds of hours of Dr. Peterson’s lectures, reading dozens of his and others’ books, listening to countless podcasts, introspecting and pondering his content for months and years, after starting a website, and writing over a hundred research pieces—the honest, kind, and blunt voice of Dr. Peterson still brings me hope. I am a more balanced woman, a more resilient person, a more devout Christian, and a better mother because of his wisdom. 

Women need to listen to Jordan Peterson. You won’t find the failed doctrines of today: overdone affirmation or justification for pleasure-and-fulfillment-seeking. And you will gain from the lack of flattery and lowered expectations. The stereotype of the fragile and shallow woman is only grounded in the truth we give it.  If we want to be strong—we can’t seek shelter from the harsh truth of our own folly. We can’t be naive or passive.  Women have tremendous power. We influence our children and the world through our spirituality, intellect, nurture, and love. If we continually listen to voices that keep us complacent, that reassure us into submission, or twist our desire for joy into selfishness—we will become fragile women.  If we seek out skim milk, then meat will seem too heavy for us. 

“Jesus saith unto them, My meat is to do the will of Him that sent me, and to finish His work” (John 4:34).

Familiarizing yourself with Dr. Jordan Peterson

So what is the “meat” that Jordan Peterson offers? It is just what mothers need.  It is practical and intellectually stimulating knowledge, of incredible breadth and depth, which we can use to do the work God has given us—helping us become “good mothers,” raise the next generation, and find some joy and meaning as we do so. Our role as mothers is desperately important. 

Over the next few weeks, I’ll be digging more here at Public Square magazine into a few of Jordan Peterson’s core messages—taken from his books and lectures—and applying them to our lives as women, and our role as mothers.  I hope you will also find in him the friend you didn’t know you needed.

• Jordan Peterson on Motherhood
• Jordan Peterson on Political and Controversial Issues
• Jordan Peterson on Mental Health

And here are some of my own favorite specific clips from his teaching:

• “We can be better”
• “People need encouragement”
• “Seeking the ideal”

The post How Jordan Peterson Made Me a Better Mother appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

I will always remember Richard Dutcher as the Latter-day Saint missionary who dies after giving a blessing to a crippled man who is a new convert to the Church. In a spiritually soaring scene, that man is miraculously healed, and then Richard Dutcher, content but suffering from a terminal disease, passes away overnight.

That might be one of my favorite scenes in all of cinema—the climactic moment in the 2000 film “God’s Army,” still probably the best of Latter-day Saint cinema after all of these years. Richard Dutcher played “Pops,” the faithful Elder Dalton, who refused to leave his mission.

Artists like Richard Dutcher are given special gifts. They are able to synthesize the thoughts, emotions, and feelings of millions in powerful scenes that allow us to feel the urgency and clarity of God’s love for all of us. And when these artists direct, write and act in such personal and poignant movies, how can we not feel special empathy for them?

Most readers probably know that Richard Dutcher made another very good movie called “Brigham City” after “God’s Army.” He then went on to make several more movies…and during that period he announced he was leaving the Church. He gave what I considered to be a melancholy interview on one podcast, then he got divorced, and then there was a sad story about an ex-girlfriend filing a request for a protective order against him. Dutcher is quoted as saying the following: “These are very painful and worrisome allegations. I do feel the need to state publicly that I have never in my life hit a woman, never choked a woman, never kicked a woman—certainly never sexually abused a woman.” (I want to make it clear to readers that there are always two sides to every story, and we should all reserve judgment about Dutcher because we don’t know the full story of what happened with his ex-girlfriend—who has, herself, had two protective orders filed against her previously.)

The IMDb website gives more information on what Dutcher has been up to lately. A web search shows that in 2015 he filed a lawsuit that got tossed out.

The big news for fans of Richard Dutcher is that in 2018 he gave a very interesting interview for Utah Film Studios. He looks quite happy, healthy, and upbeat in that interview, and I really enjoyed watching it. If you watch, make sure you watch parts 1 and 2, and 3.

In that interview, Dutcher says he no longer goes to Church but he still believes in God. He calls his faith in God a “gift,” but he says that the God he believes in does not necessarily correspond with the God many others believe in. He says that he does not want to tell other people what they should believe. He says that he “sees God in the death and the tragedy.” He says that God is not just happiness and life but also tragedies, because “God is everything.”

In the interview, Dutcher, talking about his movie career, says he has “faith that it will all work out” and that “giving up is never an option.” He points out that he has seven children and he wants to show them he will never give up.

He says: “As hard as it is to go through a period where you have no money, no prospect for money … where you have lost all your friends, all your support group, everything, you’ve lost your investors, you’ve lost your reputation … that’s awful, but worse than that would be giving up and sitting in an office selling insurance, and there’s nothing wrong with selling insurance, but if you are an insurance man who could be Victor Hugo, but you are selling insurance, that’s sad not only for you, but that’s sad for the rest of us.”

(I should point out here that earlier in the interview Dutcher says he does not compare his talent to Victor Hugo’s—his point is that some people are meant to be artists and to explore their artistic abilities.)

Dutcher says his favorite film project is “Falling,” which is an R-rated movie based on Dutcher’s life that is described as a drama that chronicles the mental and spiritual collapse of a Hollywood videographer. Dutcher says that he is doing a lot of writing for other producers. He says he is a “script doctor,” and mentions he has worked with several big names in Hollywood. He is also working on a pilot for a TV series. He also mentions he worked on a movie called “Boys at the Bar.”

I am not here to judge Richard Dutcher. As Elder Ulisses Soares pointed out so eloquently this last October: “Considering we still have a long way to go to reach perfection, perhaps it would be better if we sit at Jesus’s feet and plead for mercy for our own imperfections, as did the repentant woman in the Pharisee’s house, and not spend so much time and energy fixating on the perceived imperfections of others.”

I have plenty of imperfections that need attending. I am much more concerned about my own shortcomings than about Richard Dutcher’s shortcomings.

What I really want to do is send Richard Dutcher a message of love and support. We are about the same age. I have been through a very painful divorce. I am a very flawed man. But I have also found peace and solace in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I have dozens of very close friends there, and I know these people love me. I have seen incredible acts of self-sacrifice and charity. These people in the Church are the kindest, most loving people I have ever known.

Richard Dutcher, people in the Church still love you. There is room for you in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, no matter what you have gone through. Despite my many shortcomings, I was welcomed with open arms when I joined the Church, and I know you would be welcomed also. Richard Dutcher, you can have the faith of Elder Dalton again. I have heard your testimony, and I know you believed it then. That testimony is still inside you someplace. Oliver Cowdery and Martin Harris left the Church, and they came back. You can too.

Who knows—maybe you have already returned to Church since that 2018 interview. If this is the case, then just let me say I still cry every time I watch “God’s Army,” and I have watched it at least a dozen times. Thank you for that.

The post The Church Still Loves You, Richard Dutcher appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

That’s what I assumed for a very long time. Until I met Pastor Gary Grogan.  And campus Pastor Wayne Wager (whose wisdom we shared in this magazine last year, “A Sermon for America”). In their presence, sitting in their sermons, praying in their homes, I felt something I knew well from my youth:  the inexpressibly sweet Spirit of God.

Although I had never met Pastor Francis Chan till recently, that’s what my wife and I have long felt from him as well—someone whose words from a distance have made a profound difference in our own home, family and faith. I’m excited to introduce him to you too.

Francis Chan had many of the classic risk factors to become a “troubled teen.”  His mother died at childbirth, his stepmother died when he was 8 in an automobile accident, and his father died when he was 12. But he didn’t give up on life or his faith either. Forty-two years later, Chan would be one of America’s most beloved evangelical pastors—with his 2013 book “Crazy Love: Overwhelmed by a Relentless God” selling nearly two million copies around the world— with more opportunities to speak than he has time for today.    

But popularity and comfort were never Chan’s goals. He donated his substantial book royalties to organizations fighting sex trafficking—and felt convicted that he needed to sacrifice more. Although he had not been taking a salary as a pastor for years, he and his wife Lisa decided to downsize their home. Eventually, they felt prompted in 2010 to leave their 6,000-member Cornerstone Community Church in Simi Valley, California, which he had led since its beginning in 1994—and move up to San Francisco to begin a new ministry. In 2019, he felt called again, this time to Hong Kong, where his family stayed until visas were denied.  

Francis Chan’s words have uplifted evangelical audiences for years—and reverberated across the internet. With his ability to translate core Christian insights for a broad audience, he’s been able to encourage people beyond the traditional confines of faith boundaries. My wife and I came across his writing and sermons early in our marriage and have felt edified by his love of God and his overflowing enthusiasm for the message of Jesus.  

Pastor Chan spoke to me from his home in Fremont, California. This interview has been edited for clarity and length.

JH: More people seem to be walking away from faith these days, saying essentially, ‘who needs this to be happy’? Compared with immediate sexual and substance use excitement in the world around them, they wonder if the gospel message of Jesus is worth it today. What would you say to someone feeling that way?

FC: I would agree with that person if there was no such thing as a judgment day. But scripture says it’s appointed for man to die once, and then comes the judgment. There’s some pretty terrifying passages about eternal punishment.  I get it—if the goal is happiness on this earth, yeah, go do your thing. Eat, drink, and be merry. As the Apostle Paul says, “I’ve lived a foolish life if there’s no resurrection for the dead. But because there is a resurrection, this is the way I live.”

For too long, we’ve tried to make following Jesus, like “oh, it’s fun … it’s great,” but that’s not really how Paul described it, saying “if there’s no resurrection, I’m above all most to be pitied.” When you read his resume of everything he suffered, you go, “wow, that would be foolish if there was no eternity.” So, absolutely—if there was no eternity, yeah, go do your thing.  But we live in a time where, even in the church, people are afraid to speak about the wrath of God, which is all through the scriptures—beginning to end. It’s that terrifying reality, but because we don’t want to speak about it and think it turns people off, people are starting to believe there is no judgment anymore.  

When someone says, “Hey, I tried the gospel—but here’s some temptation,” this is the same trap Judas fell into—you’re going to find yourself holding a bag of coins, a woman, or whatever. And later you will realize, “I just traded knowing the son of God for her or this … or for him.” It’s not a good trade-off.

FC: People are not reading the Bible anymore. I mean, for 2,000 years, you’ve had people devoted to this. And now we live in a time when people have stopped reading it. And they try to listen to catchy sermons here or there, rather than just reading it for themselves.  

JH: You recently said “it’s so rare to find a teenager who can pray—who can be alone for 10 minutes and try to focus on God and not have their mind wander. Your minds are going so fast, because of cell phones … triggering us all to constant stimulation—and you close your eyes to pray and you have so many thoughts going through your mind.” What have you done in your own home to counteract this influence and help your own children be ready to connect with God?

FC: Yeah, it’s not easy—especially when the pressure is out there. And you feel like you’re that dad with these unfair restrictions that none of the other kids have to deal with. But I tell my kids, “I’m losing you— just slow down, your mind is going so fast.” In 1st Peter, it says, “The end of all things is at hand—so be sober-minded and self-controlled for the sake of your prayers.” We have to exercise self-control. We can’t have our mind just jumping from one thing to the next, and expect to have a good, strong prayer life where you can actually focus on Him and actually sense Him being in the room ministering to you and where He answers you because you’re focused on Him and there’s this love.

In Psalm 42:7 it says “deep calls out to deep”—it’s like the depths of my soul calling out to almighty God from this deep place. And yet texting and TikTok is so shallow. And the church is starting to follow suit where shallow calls out the shallow because it’s just easier and you can get it over with faster.

This last summer I just told my kids, “we need to get away—let’s go away for 2 weeks, no cell phones, no computers. I just want to be with you, I want you to be with God.  I want us to just enjoy each other. Just trust me—you’ll be fine. You’ll live through it. I’ll live through it.”

Every parent has got to do their own thing. I have a friend who’s pretty wealthy, and he told his high school kids—if you guys will stick to a flip phone, I’ll buy you any car in the world that you want. The moment you turn 16, I give you a flip phone and we’ll go to any car lot and buy you a car. The moment you go to a smartphone, I take the car back and you’re on your own. All this because he just hated seeing his kids addicted to this thing. So, there are creative ways and different things we can do. But it’s a real fight. If Satan can get us doing a bunch of stuff … and not really knowing Jesus, and being known by Him, he wins.

JH: One of the things you often say in your sermons is “I don’t know how you survive—pulling off following God in our culture and world—without spending time alone with God.”  But that “alone time with God” is harder and harder to find—even for those who want it. I’m curious whether you’ve found this time alone with God harder to preserve in your own life with all these digital intrusions and accelerating pace of life? If so, what extra steps have you taken to protect that time?

FC: Everyone has their own weaknesses. For me, I like to achieve things and I like to get things done. And we live in a time where you can get a lot of things done—big things—in 5 minutes. So, the temptation is—“let me do this, let me do this, let me do this”—just making split-second decisions without really praying them through. And believing things without really studying them diligently. So, it’s a fight for me. I have to wake up and say “no, I’m not going to see who called. I’m not going to see what’s waiting for me.” Some mornings, I just go out for a walk and pray—putting in my air-buds in to block out all the noise—and just talking to Him, thanking Him, and worshiping Him.  

It’s self-control—like the Bible says. You have to be self-controlled in order to be able to pray. Self-control is “I want to check my messages—I want to see how many things I need to get done today, but I refuse to. Because this is really the only thing I have to do.”

JH: You know quite a bit about this busyness in your own life, of course. In addition to a busy teaching schedule, you’ve got 7 children of your own—some married, a few still at home. We’ve been talking in our faith community about prioritizing worship opportunities at home—rather than only expecting that to happen in a church building. What has worked well in your own home for you and your sweetheart to get the message of Jesus into the hearts of your children?

FC: We’ve never been ones to have a set time to talk through scripture. That’s a wonderful thing, and I wish I’d been more diligent in that. But for us, it’s really in the context of everyday life. And the kids have seen the decisions we make, and we explain them to our kids— “This is why Dad gave this money away, this is why we’re moving to this area. This is why this. …” And it’s really not always what I want to do, but I know this is what God has called me to do. And then they see the result of it, and they marvel as they hear, “I’m telling you, just watch—God listens. He’s been listening to me ever since I’ve been a kid. Ever since I’ve been your age. And I want you to see this.”

I remember telling my girls, “Look at how this one situation worked out. This is why I want you to marry someone who knows God, because you’re going to miss out on all of this if you just marry someone who says they’re a Christian.” I remember my grown daughter had brought a boyfriend home—and I had some friends in town. They told me afterward, “We asked your daughter how serious she was with this guy, and she gave the weirdest response—saying, ‘yeah I’m just hanging out with him—and I just want to see if God listens to him.’”  And they’re like, “What is that about?” And I go, “I know exactly what she’s saying. She knows that God listens to Dad. And she knows that I know Him and He knows me.  And so, if she’s getting serious with a guy, she wants to see that same evidence—that you’re not just a religious person doing these things and looking good and sounding good. But she wants to see that he’s known by God. And that when he prays, crazy things happen—because that’s all she’s known about her dad.

So, our family worship is more in the context of our life, versus me making them memorize passages or go through studies together. And you know, then we just have spontaneous worship times in the home. My daughters will just grab the guitar or jump on the piano, and just from their heart cry out to God. And pretty soon we’re all around the piano or guitar—just so happy as a family being in His presence.  

JH: You’ve spoken about efforts to help people facing compulsive-addictive patterns with pornography and other challenges—and how often people run back to the same mud whenever something small in their accountability or recovery plan goes wrong. Referencing your own life experience with temptation, you say “Every time I started gravitating towards sin, I just felt dirty, and couldn’t live with myself, because God did something to me. Whenever I do, it grosses me out, it feels dark, there’s no peace.” For a man or woman who believes in God, but is thinking, “I’m just not sure I’m ever going to beat this,” what more could you say by way of encouragement?

FC: That’s a big concern of mine, because sometimes in the church we’re just about behavior modification. My concern is the person themselves. The Bible says that all of us were slaves to sin. All of us were following the enemy and just doing whatever our flesh wanted to do. But then scriptures describe that when the Spirit entered into us, suddenly we became slaves to righteousness. That’s what I was trying to describe—after that happened, I just hungered for the right things. And unlike a pig who runs back to the mud, I would touch the mud and while I may still be tempted by it, I couldn’t live in the mud anymore. I had to get out of that.

When our oldest child was 12, she was this compulsive liar. And there came this point where my wife and I were like, “did we fail?” I remember feeling, “no, I will not accept that.” Everything I read in the scriptures is that I can’t change her heart, so I said, “We could lock her in her room until she’s 18 and keep her from doing anything wrong. We can set her schedule in one way, but then once she turns 18, she’s gone. She’ll just do whatever she wants to do anyways. Our only hope is for the Holy Spirit Himself to enter into her. And when that happens, then it’s almost like our job is, well, kind of done. Because she’ll have those convictions.”

As a parent, you’re kind of like, “well, we’ll see.” (I didn’t say that, but in my head, I was just trying to be thankful). But sure enough, her entire life does a 180. So, it really was not about me —and not about these rules I enforced on her. Truly it was God changing her, which is the same thing that happened in my life. Some of my younger ones have experienced a relationship with the Holy Spirit at an early age. And it’s amazing, even my 6-year-old just—his dreams that he has, and the way God speaks to him—is fascinating. He has a faith that I want. It’s just so pure—and he’s having these encounters with God. And you can’t control those things, you can’t learn that in a classroom.

JH: That’s a really different focus than managing behavior and watching triggers —focusing instead on getting the Holy Spirit in your life.  

FC: Yeah.  

JH: In a day when it’s clearly becoming harder and harder to speak plain truths people don’t want to hear, can you share your thoughts on the erosion of freedom to share increasingly “unpopular” messages like the gospel not only around the world, like in Hong Kong, but also here in western democracies?

FC: Yeah, I mean this was prophesied.  You think about what Paul tells Timothy when he says the time is coming when people will “not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears, they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions. And they will turn away from listening to the truth and wander off into myths.” So, if I want to divorce my wife, I can find a teacher who will tell me it’s okay. If I want to have a boyfriend and a girlfriend, you know, then I’ll find someone who tells me it’s okay. If you don’t want to believe in a judgment day, then find someone that teaches there’s no judgment. Rather than reading the scriptures, people in this day will find others who will tell them what they want to hear.

But he then adds “as for you, always be sober-minded” in other words “don’t let what’s popular influence you.” And “endure suffering. Do the work of the evangelist, fulfill your ministry.” So, at the end of the day you have to decide, am I saying this because I think people like it and I’m going to get more likes and more followers, or am I saying this because God called me to this and I’m doing the work of an evangelist and fulfilling my ministry. I remember pretty early on speaking at a chapel at Pepperdine University. During the Q&A one gal said, “Everything you shared about there being one way to heaven, and you were pretty adamant about it.” Then she goes, “You know that most of us don’t believe that, and we’re actually pretty offended that you would say that. So, why would you say that?”

I said, “that’s a great question—but I want to explain to you that I don’t say things because I think you’ll like it. I say things that I don’t even like. But when I read the scriptures, I go, “this is what God says, and so I’m bound by that.” So, I say something because to the best of my understanding it’s true and I’m called to say it. I’m not after popularity. I’m after God saying, “well done” when this is all over.

JH: In reference to some of the more controversial debates happening in recent decades, you once said, “When we begin an argument with, ‘well, I wouldn’t believe in a God who would… .’ who would what? Do something you wouldn’t do?  Or think in a way that’s different from the way that you think?” You go on to caution about jumping so quickly into these debates, proposing more attention to this as the core question: “If you disagree with God on an issue—would you submit to Him? At the core of your being, do you believe in a Creator? And if He is your Creator, would you surrender to whatever He would ask you to do?” That’s pretty hard to do. What more would you add to that for someone wrestling to surrender on some of these difficult cultural questions?

FC: I think I would ask someone, “Why do you believe what you believe? How do you know it’s true?” Most people right now, they believe whatever they think … or feel. If they have an opinion about something, then in their mind, that’s true. And I ask people, “Why do you bet on yourself? Is it a matter of intellect, like your IQ is so much higher than everyone else, so your opinion is right and theirs is wrong? Or is it your intimacy with God and the Holy Spirit because you’re so humble He pours his grace out on you and so He’s going to reveal truth to you? We believe all truth comes from God, and so why did He give it to you?”

We have to ask these questions about why we know something. Is my conviction about something because I have this humble, contrite spirit? Am I closer to the Holy Spirit than someone else? There was a time in my life when I just thought I could go into my office, and study and come up with the truth. But I realized a lot of times I would just find people from my theological background to confirm my inclination. And this process has changed for me over the years. In the New Testament, there’s so much about “us”—our father in heaven. And there’s something about the unity of the body of Christ. In Psalm 133, it says that “when the brothers are dwelling together in unity, there He commands His blessing, life forevermore.” 

I look to the godliest people I know, who are the elders at our church. And I know, because I’ve seen the sacrifice, I’ve seen their hearts, I’ve been with them through life. And if they collectively agree with me on something, I’m willing to bet a little more on that. And then, I look through church history now—and go, “gosh, there are people who lived through a time when they weren’t so scattered in their thoughts, their devotion was outrageous, they gave their lives for Him. And they saw Him, they walked with Him. And here are the things they all say. And so, even if my little group of guys that I trust disagrees with that early church, I go “gosh, I don’t know if I can bet on you guys.” But if I am in agreement with these elders that I trust—and these elders are in agreement with that early church and church tradition—I go, “I’ll bet on that.” Now, you? I wouldn’t bet on you. And I don’t bet on me either.

So, don’t believe everything you think! And be okay with people having different opinions. Someone recently said, “One of the shifts in our culture is people are no longer allowed to have opinions—but instead, they are their opinions.  And so, if you reject their opinion, you are rejecting them, rather than saying ‘no, I can reject what you think about that and still be committed to you and love you as a person.’ So, it’s just a strange time that we live in.

JH: In “Crazy Love,” you write, “Christians today like to play it safe. We want to put ourselves in situations where we are safe, even if there is no God.” You go on to encourage people to live in a way that if God didn’t come through, they’d be in trouble. That kind of sacrifice feels too hard for many today. Too scary. And too much. Like the rich young ruler, we stay away from the possibility, sorrowing —sensing it’s too much for us. Compared to someone dedicating their life as a faith leader, I’m sure many have wondered, “do you really think God expects all of us to make sacrifices like that?”

FC: My decisions, I don’t think, have anything to do with me being a pastor, because I know many pastors who have no convictions the way I do. It’s what I read in scripture. Now, am I afraid each time I take a step of faith like that? Yeah, there’s fear. But I’m more afraid to not obey. I’m more afraid to be the rich young ruler that walks away sad. When Jesus walks away from the rich young ruler, He says “It’s so hard for the rich.” But then a few verses later, he runs into a very rich man, Zacchaeus, and it’s completely different. He got a glimpse of Jesus, understood his worth, and was ready to give everything up, surrender. And Jesus says to him, “Okay, today salvation is come into this house. You get it.  You understand what I’m worth.” I want to be Zacchaeus who really sees the worth of Christ and just starts giving everything away. That’s not like a downer passage. The downer passage is the rich young ruler—he walks away sad, Jesus is sad. Zacchaeus is beside himself and can’t believe Jesus would come into his home. And Jesus is thrilled too.

JH: When you were forced to leave Hong Kong after a wild 2020, you said that your family felt “at perfect peace at a time when most people would be freaked out.” That’s what a lot of people are feeling today—including lots of people who want to follow Jesus, who feel enormous anxiety about the times we are living in. What more would you say to believers who are increasingly scared of so much they’re seeing happen in the world around them?

FC: I’ve had the privilege and advantage of walking with Jesus for the last 40 years. As a kid who was just lost, no parents, no relationships really on the earth—feeling like no one cared about me. And then praying to God as I read about Him in the scriptures and He just answered and answered and answered. So, we’re talking about 40 years of history with outrageous answers to prayer. So, whatever happens in a day I just go, “no, He really does work all things together for the good.” I’ve just seen this pattern for so long.

It’s like my own children, if Dad does something they know there’s a reason. They’ve never seen him act like, totally idiotic or irrational. And even if they don’t understand, they’ve learned to trust, and say ‘gosh dad, thanks—thanks for not letting me do this, thanks for this decision. I see why you did all these things.’ And that’s the way I feel about the Lord. So, COVID doesn’t scare me. If something happened to my kids, of course, it would be painful. But I was just thanking the Lord this morning, like “God, I feel like I can get through anything with you because you’ve always been so good to me—and there’s always been a reason for everything you do.” But, again, that comes from a lifetime of answered prayer. And so, maybe there was some faith in the beginning—but over time, it just seemed like it would take more faith not to trust Him because of the way He’s interacted with me my whole life.

JH: It does seem to many like it’s harder to follow Jesus than ever—with so much heaviness, depression, and despair around us.  But you said in a message during the middle of the pandemic, “I’ve never appreciated and loved being a follower of Christ more right now—just to know I can be secure in Him, just to know that He really did conquer the grave so I don’t need to be afraid of death. That doesn’t mean I go out and do stupid things, but I’m just not fearful.” I was struck by the joy you expressed during this challenging time. Even people who don’t believe this, notice the joy you have found—a kind of contentment that most people don’t have these days. What would it take for more believers to find this joy—even with all this falling down around us?  

FC: Peter says, “We rejoice with joy inexpressible.” Like, we just feel like everything in us just wants to scream. That’s how I was feeling this morning alone with the Lord. Like, ahh! This is too much! Why me?  Why do I get this? And It’s not “oh, because my family’s nice,” … it’s because I know God.  He listens to me. He’s been with me all of these years. And so, I do have this joy that at times … is inexpressible.  I remember one time in the airplane just reading scriptures and I began to tear up just so happy. And I remember the flight attendant was like “are you okay?” And I feel bad because I said, “oh no, I’m fine.” And there was part of me that didn’t want me to say “I’ve been reading the Bible, and I’m just so freaked out excited about what I have in Christ.”

The Bible says that’s a fruit of the Spirit—and I want people to understand that this was not me … at all. You know, there are some people that have a natural disposition—it seems like they are happier people.  But if you ask any of my family who knew me as a kid, I was just the most unhappy person. Every time I would see my aunt, I remember she would say, “why you never happy?” I was like, “I don’t know?” And my dad would just comment on this too—I just always had this scowl. I was raised in a very typical Asian home that was very performance-centered, and shame-driven. I had no real relationship with my dad—only when he scolded me. So, all I knew of a father was someone that was always disappointed in me, where I never measured up.

And so I just grew up this rejected, unhappy person. And it was a wrestle for me when I would read the passages about the grace of God—and the love of God.  Just because I had never experienced that from a father. And, so it took time—and I probably still have some baggage from all of that. But over the years, the Spirit really has changed me, when I began to understand the grace of God—“While we were enemies, Christ died for us.” I began to believe and accept and enjoy. If we’re talking about Almighty God, He doesn’t just enter you and change nothing … and you don’t have love, joy, peace, patience, kindness … that’s not the God that I read about in scripture.

JH: There is more attention among those who look to Jesus about His coming—a possibility that is mocked and belittled by many others. Yet you have taught about the reality of this future day. What do you anticipate followers of Christ having to go through before that wonderful day comes?

FC: I think 2nd Timothy 3 really sums all of that up. And Jesus explained that when the Son of Man returns, it’s going to be like the days of Noah, where everyone is just doing their thing.  And then the flood comes, and they just never believed it. And unfortunately, we’re going to have to be like Noah’s that are ridiculed by everyone.  And, you know, in 2nd Timothy 3, he explains in verse one, “Understand this, that in the last days there will come times of difficulty. People will be lovers of self, lovers of money, proud, arrogant, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, heartless, unappeasable, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not loving good, treacherous, reckless, swollen with conceit, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God, having the appearance of Godliness but denying His power. Avoid such people.”

So, it’s not just saying that this is going to happen in the world.  But he says this is actually going to happen in the church too, where people will be loving themselves, loving money, loving pleasure. And so, you just realize—that’s what we’re up against. And now we have churches [that] are trying to appeal to people through earthly pleasure. Meanwhile, again, he’s warning Timothy, don’t give into that. Flee from all of that and live the way God has called you to.

FC: We live in a time where someone calls himself “Catholic”—it could mean anything. Or if they say they are “Jewish”—I have no idea, based on that individual. We don’t live in a time where people just go with the group, especially in the U.S. where everyone prides themselves on free thinking.  So, I’ve just found that I know what I’ve experienced with Christ.  And I know how good it has been to know Him and to be known by Him. And there is nothing more thrilling than those times when I know He hears my prayers and He answers me in the most ridiculous way. And so, I want that for everyone. I want that security for everyone. So, if I have an opportunity to speak to someone who may be labeled something, that doesn’t bother me. I look at the individual, and I go “God help me love this person, because I want them to know you and experience a bit of what you and I enjoy, Lord.”  So, if you call yourself Pentecostal, Four Square, Charismatic, Baptist, whatever it doesn’t matter to me. I try really hard to just love whoever is in front of me. 

Those differences are real. And people can, unfortunately, come across as angry, rather than concerned. At the same time, I have to be truthful about my concerns. When I read this book, it’s all about knowing Him. The fascination of Moses knowing God—being a friend to God, on and on and on. The New Testament is so much about the grace of God.  Whenever I talk with a Roman Catholic, Jehovah’s, Latter-day Saints, my concern is this working towards, this earning. I totally believe if the Spirit is in us we cannot help but work—He moves us to work. But if it gets off of grace and on to work, even with Baptists or whomever, my heart is just “ahh, I want you to rest in Him and know Him.”  

JH: You recently created a video on unity—and trying “silence” as a way to draw our hearts together. While recognizing the real theological differences that will continue (including in how we see Jesus), do you think there is more opportunity for unity and collaboration between Latter-day Saints and Evangelicals as we look ahead to more troubled times in the world around us?

FC: I’ve been to Utah several times and actually had some really close friends in college that played on a volleyball team together that were Latter-day Saints. There are certainly things we can partner on.  Because, you know—the sanctity of life, God’s creation of male and female— there are certainly things we agree upon.  Living in a country where there’s freedom.  I just think it’s one of those things where people have to be okay with discussion, and for there to be love in that discussion.  You know, for me there’s—some of those differences are so deep.

And to have discussions about that, I can do that, and be honest with concerns—for everyone to come to the table and go like, ‘I’ll ditch everything for truth. And I will follow truth wherever it leads me.’ I’ve already been rejected by my old camp just for embracing—not even embracing, just for having conversations with people who are more charismatic or more catholic. So, the whole cancel culture thing, been there done that. And I’m too old to just believe something just because it’s the way I was taught. And as long as we’re really seeking truth and being honest with each other in those discussions—so we don’t pretend ‘oh, everything’s fine.’ Yeah, we can agree on the tragedy in Afghanistan and watching people fly off of a plane, and how can we get food to these people, and people in the civil war in Ethiopia, and starving to death, and how we do something there. But we have to be realistic and honest … that doesn’t mean big unity is possible.  But we can unite on certain things.

Go here to listen to the full interview —and check out a compilation of his teachings that have impacted my own family the most, including some especially “for someone ‘not feeling it’ at church,” and the perfect message “for someone struggling to leave behind a habit that is hurting them.” Please also visit here to support the global Crazy Love ministries Pastor Chan leads.

The post Celebrating the Overwhelming, Relentless Love of God appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

But then … I met Dave. Passing by the Public Conversations Project booth (now Essential Partners), I encountered someone who answered that question for me definitively. French philosopher Emmanuel Levinas, of Lithuanian Jewish ancestry, taught that truth comes through the “face of the other.” In the face of Dave (and others in the dialogue and deliberation community), the truth became very apparent. I did belong here. We all do … or at least, we all can.   

Beyond Dave’s gentle personal way alone, the specific approach he represented with Essential Partners was especially reassuring for the way it made clear space for ideological diversity—exactly the point unclear to conservatives (and others) in our cancel-happy-culture today. Over the years, the distinctive power of the Reflective Structured Dialogue approach advanced by Essential Partners has become widely appreciated as their workshops became standing-room-only affairs. (As a mindfulness teacher, I sometimes tell others that Essential Partners trainings are for dialogue what the University of Massachusetts Center for Mindfulness is for meditation: the gold standard.)

Over the years, I kept going back to NCDD conferences and kept seeing Dave. When he came to Utah for another event, this inquisitive soul came over for dinner and met my family. We began talking about bringing the signature “Power of Dialogue” workshop to Utah. We talked about it so many times that it became an inside joke, “yeah, one day!”   

But then it happened! Several cohorts of Utahans came together in late 2017 and early 2018—participating in this in-depth dialogue training with the express aim of cultivating a “practice network” of dialogue teachers in the region, similar to supportive networks available to mindfulness teachers wanting to hone their craft. The trainings definitely made an impact. Reflecting on her experience, one participant Becky Linford said, “I think about what I learned every day and consider it an experience of a lifetime!”

• Jodi Graham, Executive Director, Utah Humanities. “I had the honor of participating in a Power of Dialogue training with Dave in 2017. This training was instrumental in shaping the Community Conversations programming Utah Humanities offers throughout the state. Hundreds of people have gathered in person and virtually to find greater understanding and respect. We have held conversations on topics ranging from Immigration to the Opioid Crisis, and all are grounded in Dave’s philosophy of respectful dialogue. His legacy lives on in every Community Conversation.”
• Becca Kearl, Director of Programming, Living Room Conversations. “I clearly remember Dave sitting in the middle of our circle demonstrating the power of questions. He posed a problem he was trying to work out and we were each to think of questions to help him get to the root of the issue rather than offer suggestions or ask clarifying questions. It was a deeply impactful exercise that I have used in my own faith community, with my children and spouse, and in my work crafting questions to enable dialogue. Dave brought warmth, authenticity, and humor to this critical work and I was amazed at the breadth of his work across the globe. I am grateful our paths intersected and can say with absolute sincerity that he changed me. I am privileged to create resources and foster dialogue across the country and carry the lessons learned from him with me in my daily work. Prayers and condolences to those who loved him best and feel the sting of grief right now.”
• Pamela Gee, Opera By Children Director, Utah Festival Opera and Musical Theatre.  “Dave had a firm grasp on bringing people together and a clear way to encourage us to understand human nature in a way to overcome differences. We have utilized his techniques to ensure we are able to balance many of the perspectives of the community in teaching and educating the diverse people we serve.”
• Shelly Sawyer Jenson, Master Herbalist. “I am honored to have been trained in dialogue by Dave Joseph, but he taught me far more than the art of facilitating dialogue. He taught me how to listen, how to learn, how to sit patiently with discomfort, and how to care. I can’t imagine a man more gifted in not only teaching dialogue but in demonstrating humanity with grace.”
• Emily Allen, Master Mother. “I have found as I get older that I appreciate anyone who comes into my life and leaves me with something new and wonderful.  Dave is someone who introduced me to a new way of conversing with others and opening up my heart in a thoughtful way. He helped me become more willing to share and discuss hard things. When I bring what Dave brought to the table in any relationship, it softens everything. He hit at the core of knowing humanity. I mean truly knowing humanity and realizing that life is complex and we see only a few pieces to the puzzle of someone else’s life. Getting to know, love, and understand others puts more pieces together so we can begin to see them a little clearer which makes a whole lot of room for love and kindness to fill in the missing pieces. That connection in a relationship gets filled with richness pretty darn quick. God undoubtedly smiles for all that Dave gave to us.”
• Jay Griffith. “Dave was first and foremost a warm and beautiful human. The creases on his face bespoke a thoughtfulness and care come from much tilling the soil of understanding and compassion among enemies. His personal stories of patient prepping illustrated the importance of learning and appreciating where people come by their strongly held positions. His method of intent listening and then sitting for a few moments to really consider and reflect what another said, still instructs and benefits me. Such lessons as he demonstrated and taught continue to seed and grow a greater capacity for reconciliation for me and many others as we work to create a less divisive world. I mourn his passing.”   
• Andrea Smardon, journalist and podcast producer. “Dave Joseph helped me take my interest in deep listening and become a leader. When I met him, I was trying to figure out how to use my voice—to use the tools of audio journalism to help people navigate fractured times and take courageous steps toward connection. Shortly after I attended a training with Dave, I developed a podcast about how to connect in a time of division. It was called Next Door Strangers, and I produced it in partnership with public radio station KUER. NPR selected an episode for national promotion on their app and it reached more than 200,000 listeners. The podcast also got more people involved in the kind of dialogues that Dave champions by partnering with Living Room Conversations. I know that Dave—in his devotion to this work—has planted many seeds that are still developing.”
• Andrew Evans. “Dave really made me think. His example of patience and non-judgment towards others kept my own beliefs in check. Just recently I was able to use skills I learned from him in managing some tense workplace issues. Whether it was as a mediator, counseling soldiers, or listening to a friend, Dave’s example will always be in my mind and in my heart.”
• Ashtora. “This sad news of Dave’s passing has reached me. The gifts of dialogue that Dave brought to me and many others have forever changed the way I think and the way I speak. Because of Dave Joseph, my goal is always now, to find ‘the heart of the matter.’ I am just very fortunate in doors continuing to open for advocating and speaking out for social justice and protection of those marginalized by our government, legal, religious and social systems. The work of Essential Partners is pivotal to every conversation in my life.” 

This is only a subset of beneficiaries of the training in Utah—which, of course, is only one place impacted by his influence and teaching. As John Sarrouf, Co-Executive Director at Essential Partners, said at the memorial “Nobody is more responsible for building the next generation of dialogue facilitators than Dave”—suggesting that his “students’ students’ students” can now speak of his impact.  

The global impact of one determined peacemaker. After working for two decades in mental health and addictions programs, Dave spent the last 25 years of his life peacebuilding around the world. In his work with Essential Partners, he fostered interfaith dialogue in Nigeria and led projects in post-civil war healing in Liberia and post-genocide healing in Burundi. His legacy includes groups like the “National Ex-combatants Peacebuilding Initiative” and Mediators Beyond Borders, of which he was a founding member and served as its Board Chair for many years. As one speaker at his memorial said, “You only have to listen to the people he worked with—to know how much light he brought into dark places.”

Dave did plenty of domestic peacemaking work on home soil as well, supporting a wide spectrum of dialogues across difficult questions, from abortion to immigration. He also founded the Center for Mediation & Collaboration in Rhode Island (CMCRI). Impact across the nation and around the world is obviously something to celebrate and honor. But I was especially touched at the memorial to see something not exactly common in people who make such a difference in the larger world—where those making a sizable impact in the larger world often leave broken families and unhappy home lives in their wake. 

I knew better from Dave, who spoke of Stella, Pierce, and his other grandchildren so frequently that I felt like I knew them. The tender words of his closest family members and children left the biggest impression on me. Both sons spoke about celebrating the Patriots’ improbable come-from-behind win going to the Super Bowl together. And one of his sons spoke of how his father had taught him the meaning of life, “centered on how one chooses to spend one’s limited time on the planet”—prioritizing “laughter, sharing wisdom, living with others, and living for the good of others.” Another son mentioned learning from his dad that “Greatness is a measure of impact, not of value.”

His sweetheart Andrea was at his side till the end, sending lovely updates to his many friends over the difficult months. As his obituary notes, “He and Andrea held hands until the end.”

Remarking that Dave “lived his life hoping to help heal a broken world,” Andrea added at his memorial that his “chief regrets” were not being able to spend “more time with his grandchildren and not more time with his work.” 

Those at the receiving end of his attention were changed by it. Dave’s sister described how he “always thought deeply and listened deeply … listened really, really deeply”— commenting on how he “always helped me feel seen, heard, valued and respected.” John Sarrouf spoke of the striking “language” of his distinctive eyebrows when in conversation—reflecting “how closely he listened and considered what you had to share.”

I was struck by how well Dave lived out two teachings he loved, both mentioned at the memorial service:  “All real living is meeting” (Buber), “I will destroy my enemies by converting them to my friends” (Maimonides).

It was not just family members, of course, that benefited from these gifts. I was touched by the stories of how famous he was at the climbing gym he frequented. “Not only because he was twice or three times older than other climbers—and not because he could climb the best routes … but because he invested so much of his time at the climbing gym in other people. He was not rushed, and asked people how their day was, getting to know the story of people’s lives.”

Three other qualities stood out from those reflecting on his life:   

• Patience. John Sarrouf described how Dave would “stand in the middle of people in the deepest of conflicts” and “pause in the most incredible, thoughtful, intentional way.” Dave was described as “fiercely patient”—citing a proverb he often referenced in his teaching: “patience is the medicine for everything in the world.”
• Humility. In reflecting on Dave’s writing, John noted that He “never spoke about himself and his own wisdom and accomplishment—instead always focusing on someone else he helped to support.” He added, “He was never the hero of his own stories. And was far more likely to tell you his failure and mistakes.” His sons likewise spoke of how teaching from their father “rarely came directly,” and instead through “asking questions.”  They both affirmed, “his wisdom was in helping others discover the wisdom for themselves.”
• Laughter. I absolutely loved Dave’s laugh (see the video below, to see why). One of Dave’s sons described the “pure life and love when my dad laughed”—saying, “he laughed easily, wonderfully.” The story was told how an hour after brain surgery—head wrapped in gauze—he asked his family after waking up, “what do you think of my new look?” When one person questioned the value of dialogue at a workshop, Dave quipped, “Yes, this work of dialogue is only really useful for those who have to deal with other people.”

I didn’t know Dave at the depth of others who worked closely with him and loved him best. But as I reflect on the cumulative impact of my interactions with him over the years, I get emotional.

In hopes of preserving some of his wisdom for others to relish, I reached out to propose an interview four years ago. He agreed and we found time in between Power of Dialogue events in Utah one evening in February 2018 in his hotel room (my excuse for some random background noises here and there!) 

I focused my questions on some of the lessons that had most impacted me and his reflections on his work over the years as a whole. I present in the video below all of his answers, along with a few instances of back-and-forth where I was able to capture his unforgettable laugh. Hoping you enjoy it!

I found this comment an especially powerful articulation of one challenge we will continue to face in the years ahead:    

In times of polarization, what happens is the zealots get empowered—the voices that get heard are the most extreme. It’s set up to create something we consume—that sells commercial products. People who are more complex and nuanced (which describes most Americans) aren’t going to be the ones invited on the shows because they’re not as entertaining. … Conflict entrepreneurs take advantage of this because it sells and it works for them. 

Then, Dave pivoted to look forward with some hope, saying “We’re challenged to be our better selves, to be the kind of people who help to heal a broken country, a country that has enormous potential if we can only make it so.”

It’s true that Dave’s legacy will “live on” in hearts and minds, and lives—young and old—all around the world. But that’s not all that will live on. I write this tribute as both a Latter-day Saint, and as someone who has lost my mother, brother and many other dear ones in my life. Based on some sacred experiences confirming to me that my loved ones have not ‘ceased to exist,’ I quote the great movie Gladiator to simply say: “I will see you again … but not yet. Not yet.” 

 We believe the “same sociality which exists among us here will exist among us there, only it will be coupled with eternal glory.” I rejoice in knowing the beauty of friendship and family does not just suddenly evaporate after death. I feel like Joseph Smith, who once said, “If I have no expectation of seeing my father, mother, brothers, sisters, and friends again, my heart would burst in a moment, and I should go down to my grave. The expectation of seeing my friends in the morning of the resurrection cheers my soul and makes me bear up against the evils of life.” 

These are tough times in our country, and the world—and by many indicators, they could get even tougher. The truths and teachings that guided Dave’s life have never been more important, urgent, and needed. As we turn our faces to the future, may we be cheered by knowing of the goodness, kindness, and convictions of those who came before. And no matter what we have to navigate in the days ahead, let’s hold onto the ideals that guided their lives—and live to make them proud.    

Thank you, Dave.  I love you. All who knew you will miss you sorely! 

The post The Gentle Power of Dave Joseph, Dialogue Legend appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Joe Lordan was one of those good men who quietly protected and served his community as a cop and a coach. His obituary mentions that for three decades he coached baseball and basketball and served as a San Francisco police officer. Joe influenced hundreds, perhaps thousands, of boys and young men for good.

Since his passing, I have been thinking about him and his wife Joan and my experience on our Fairfax Shell team during the summer of 1971 when I was 12. I would like to honor him publicly by reflecting on ways that he and the two men who coached with him, Tony Damato and Manny Berretta, made a difference in the lives of the boys they coached. I connect my personal experiences with broader ideas around how coaches can establish and nourish a meaningful community, what I call a close community.

Coaches as Creators of Close Communities

When we speak of communities, we often refer to bigger, broader entities such as towns and cities or communities based on shared religious, ethnic, linguistic, or cultural connections. In this essay, I am speaking more here about smaller, closer communities such as teams, families, congregations, or coworkers.

For some time, concerns have been expressed that Americans are less likely to be engaged in their local communities and that this negatively affects children, youth, and adults. Americans have become cynical about a wide range of social and political institutions. 

The great sociologist, Robert Putnam, in his classic book Bowling Alone, demonstrates the trend toward individualism and in his new book, The Upswing, argues that we may be on the way back to building stronger communities and institutions. Yuval Levin’s The Fractured Republic argues that Americans should emphasize the middle levels of society such as families and communities. In his new book, A Time to Build, he argues that we are in a social crisis that can only be addressed if Americans move forward together in building up and strengthening families, communities, and schools.

Based on my experience with Coach Joe Lordan, here are some thoughts about how coaches can create a meaningful close community: encouraging others, helping each person feel they belong, the power of place, and being consistently present.

Encouraging Others

“Can of corn, Dave. Can of corn.” 

Joe said those words to me many times during the two years he was my Little League baseball coach (1970-1971). My abiding memory of Coach Joe is of him, standing by the dugout, speaking these and other encouraging and calming words as I stepped up to the plate in a pressure situation or as I stepped up to the pitcher’s mound to face a good hitter with the game on the line. 

Hearing a respected man calmly speak encouraging words in a pressure situation was a blessing. In traditional baseball parlance, “can of corn” means something that is easy. It is like saying, “No problem” or “You got this.” The phrase comes from the early 20th century when grocers used a long-hooked stick to pull cans of corn off a high shelf and catch them in their aprons. When Coach said, “Can of corn,” it meant he believed in me. Because I believed in him, I could believe in myself. When Coach Joe would say this to me it had a calming effect. It reduced some of the anxiety of the game situation I was facing. 

I don’t know how many times he used that phrase. Many dozens I expect. It was often enough, and it meant enough, that I still can hear him saying it 50 years later. When I face some personal or professional challenge, I can gain perspective and confidence by thinking, “Can of corn, Dave. Can of corn.”

Help Each Person Feel They Belong

In my childhood, I often felt like an outsider. I was an Episcopalian in the midst of mostly Catholic classmates and friends. I felt like an outsider on the St. Rita team on the Catholic Youth Organization. I even wore a St. Christopher medal to try to fit in.

I grew up living in downtown Fairfax but in 5th grade, we moved to the apartments in the Oak Manor neighborhood. My parents later rented a home across the street from the Oak Manor School baseball field for a year or so. As a result, I felt like we really didn’t belong in Oak Manor. We were just renters.

So, it was no small thing for me that Joe and Joan Lordan worked hard to make all of us on the team feel welcome and to enjoy a strong sense of identity. They welcomed us to their home for swimming parties. They treated each player like we really mattered to them and to the team.

A cool uniform helps the team have a sense of personal identity and a broader identity as a team member. Our coaches painted our helmets purple and gold. To help us feel part of something bigger than ourselves and to be united, Joan sewed the letters “FS” (Fairfax Shell) on the front of our hats and sewed the letters of our names on the back of our jerseys.

Long before it was common for parents to bring snacks to sporting events, Joan Lordan brought us homemade brownies, made from scratch, and fresh-squeezed lemonade to every practice and every game. While the rules of the Fairfax Little League said you couldn’t give out special awards or trophies, Joe, Tony, and Manny hosted an end-of-season banquet at their home and gave out personalized trophies.

The Power of Place

It is difficult to create a meaningful close community without a shared place. The film, Field of Dreams, captures the magical—even mystical—power of a baseball field to unite generations, to elicit lasting memories and nostalgic feelings, and to unite communities. The film, The Sandlot, also gives a sense of the power of a ball field to create a close community.

In Fairfax, the place where our close community was established and nurtured was Central Field. In those days, for me, baseball was a religion and Central Field was our cathedral. That field was sacred ground for me and many others back when baseball was king.

Interestingly, around the same years I played Little League baseball, Central Field also hosted a couple of very interesting softball games. One was a game that my dad played in. In an effort to build goodwill, someone organized a game between the Hippies and The Pigs (Fairfax Police Officers). “Pigs” was the derogatory term used by hippies for police officers. The other was a mid-1960s softball game between the Grateful Dead and Jefferson Airplane (see footage in a video about the Dead’s song “Ripple”).

In my childhood, the two most important men in my life were my dad, Mel Dollahite, and my Little League baseball coach, Joe Lordan. They had important things in common. Both served in the military (Joe in the Air Force, Mel in the Naval Reserves); both were respected police officers (Joe, a deputy chief in San Francisco, Mel, a sergeant in Fairfax); both were churchgoers (Joe at St. Rita Catholic Church in Fairfax, Mel at Holy Innocents Episcopal Church in Larkspur); and both were quiet, calm, humble men.

My abiding childhood memories of them involve their presence at Central Field in Fairfax (aka Contratti Park) during our ball games. Seeing our coaches Joe, Tony, and Manny standing near the fence of the dugout cheering and coaching us was always an uplift. When my dad was on duty, in order to see me play, he drove his squad car onto the hill overlooking the ball field by the Fairfax Pavilion. At some point during the game, often when I was pitching, someone would say, “Dave, your dad’s here,” while pointing to center field. I would turn around and see my dad, in uniform, leaning against the police car smoking his pipe and watching. 

As a 12-year-old in the tumultuous early 1970s, it was great to have an angel in the outfield and a few near the dugout. In some ways, a baseball field was the perfect place to teach the importance of boundaries, rules, roles, strategy, tradition, and the importance of journeying out but also coming home.

Coach Joe Heading Home

So beloved were Joe, Joan, Tony, and Manny, and so close the bonds they forged among us kids, that, in 2001, the 30th anniversary of that first championship, our second baseman, Doug MacLean, organized a reunion of that team to honor them. We gathered to reminisce and to share our deep appreciation for the close community they created for us. It was great to see my old coaches and many old teammates and celebrate those wonderful times together. 

The last time I was able to spend time with Joe and Joan was in August of 2017 when my wife and I came to Fairfax for my 40th high school reunion. We went with Doug MacLean to visit Joe and Joan and reminisced about our shared passion—baseball. Joan even made her famous brownies and lemonade. On the walls of their home are pictures of all the teams Joe has coached over three decades. Every one of those kids would say they won the coaching lottery.

Knowing the kind of man Joe Lordan was, the kind of life he lived, and the number of people he influenced for good, if I were able to be there when he steps up to the Pearly Gates to face Saint Peter, I would say, “Can of corn, Joe. Can of corn.”

(Dave at bat with coaches Joe, Tony, and Manny standing at 3rd base dugout)

(Dave getting some pitching advice from Coach Tony Damato)

The post Remembering Coach Joe Lordan appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

I’ll start with my side. John Taylor (my great-cubed grandfather) has a well-known story; after a couple of peaceful international moves for religious reasons (from the UK to Canada to the U.S.), he fled from the 1838 Missouri Mormon Extermination Order, then got shot when Joseph Smith was assassinated in the custody of the State of Illinois (while Joseph was running for president, 1844). After further problems in Illinois, he left the boundaries of the U.S. for Utah and ultimately died in 1887, after two years in hiding to escape enforcement of the Edmunds Anti-Polygamy Act. This is sort of the standard set of church history case studies showing where inadequate religious freedom can land a true believer.

Looking a little further back, there are a good handful of pilgrims on my side, and my wife also has some (they overlap with mine). If you don’t already know the story of the pilgrims, you need more help than I can give you, but in any case, that’s one more set of folks leaving a government behind for religious reasons.

It seems my dad’s ancestors largely came to the U.S. (from Norway, Sweden, southern Italy, and the U. K.) as economic migrants, and then moved on to Canada for homestead farmland. That’s the one branch of the family where I’m unaware of any major, recent political or religious drama, though obviously southern Italy has been misgoverned to a greater or lesser extent since approximately the end of the Roman Republic, and its continuing poverty is related to that fact.

More recently, my parents were both born and raised in Canada but ended up moving to the U. S. as adults, as have (independently) the majority of their siblings. The phrase “tax refugee” has been used, and I’ve heard plenty of other discontents from around the family, notably with the inanities of the Canadian medical system and the U.S. immigration system they have to deal with too. 

On my wife’s side, the legacy of getting persecuted for religious reasons goes back in her paternal line to the Waldenses, a “proto-Protestant church tradition” dating back to the 12th century and primarily based in the alps. (“For The Strength of the Hills” is actually a Waldensian hymn, and refers to their refuge in the alps, not Utah geography.) This worked out about how you might expect. In the 13th century, they were declared heretical by the Catholic Church and some were burned at the stake. In the 15th century, the ironically named Pope Innocent VIII issued a bull that resulted in a crusade against them. Some were massacred by troops of French King Francis I for “dissident religious activities” in the 16th century. And then there was a massacre by Savoyard troops in the 17th century (John Milton did not approve), followed by conflict with Louis XIV of France and his nephew the Duke of Savoy. Some Waldenses fled to Switzerland for several years before returning to their valleys.

In the 19th century, things finally quieted down for the Waldenses, and in the newfound climate of relative religious tolerance, Lorenzo Snow went to Italy to proselytize. My kids’ great-cubed grand-aunt Marie Madeleine Cardon had previously seen the missionaries in a vision, and her family subsequently joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Marie successfully confronted one mob, but the family had evidently gone out of the Waldensian frying pan and into the Latter-day Saint fire; the Cardons subsequently emigrated to Utah. Later on, during anti-polygamy persecution, they ended up in the Mexican colonies, which, like the Canadian colonies, were an 1880s John Taylor project meant to serve as a refuge. (Except that during the Mexican Revolution (1910-1920), most of the colonists ended up back in the U.S. as refugees after facing anti-American sentiment and ultimately cannons). Tired of losing yet?

In my wife’s Chinese maternal line, her Great-Grandpa Lau was killed by the communists around 1950, but Grandpa Lau made it safely to British-ruled Hong Kong. When Hong Kong’s eventual reversion to Chinese rule was becoming clear, he (correctly) expected it was only a matter of time before Communist tyranny overtook it too, so he moved again to the U. S. It sounds like he was mostly trying to not get killed by Maoists, but fortunately, one consequence was that his kids ended up having religious freedom. 

So my kids’ ancestors have fled a variety of governments, ranging from poor to outright tyrannical, in many cases to be able to practice their religion without interference. What should they learn from this? My kids should be attentive to religious freedom. Their ancestors have fled jurisdictions with established religion (Waldenses, pilgrims), established atheism (China), and established anti-Mormonism (1830s Missouri, 1840s Illinois, 1880s U. S.). The 13th, 15th, 16th, 17th, 19th, and 20th centuries all had some trouble for my people. Hopefully, the 21st century goes just fine, but a degree of vigilance is in order. Like any other “this time is different” argument, “no need to worry about religious freedom in our day and age” deserves some knee-jerk skepticism.

Remembering these troubles, my kids should have some sympathy for refugees, victims of persecution, and economic migrants. All of their ancestral lines have been through at least one of these categories of duress within the last couple of centuries. 

My kids should also be skeptical of government power. Their ancestors haven’t had to flee recurring oppression caused by non-governmental organizations, or the big economic interests of the day, or non-established religions; it always seems to be the government. And even with the government, the problem never seems to be bread-and-butter government work like contract enforcement or punishment of violent crime. It always seems to be some kind of ideological overreach backed by the state’s monopoly on violence.

So, attempts to enshrine religion or some kind of other ideology in law likewise deserve my kids’ skepticism. Established religion is now widely recognized as problematic, but it is just a special case of the tendency for any established ideology to metastasize, taking an inappropriate and growing hold over citizens’ lives and resources. The besetting problem of our time is not government establishing a religion—it is government becoming the religion. Neither the Cult of Divus Trump nor its competitor Woke Orthodoxy (with their respective creeds, rituals, and priests) should have power over vast swathes of economic and cultural activity; I’d rather have them playing for the table stakes of a small government. Only a limited government, committed to a parsimonious ideology like American constitutionalism, can at least semi-reliably stand aside, stave off metastasis, and leave room for oddballs like my ancestors.

They should also recognize that they literally would not exist in their current form if one of their ancestors had not been fervently anti-Communist from up-close experience.  

These items do not a complete political philosophy make, with the specifics tied to my own family. And they form just one of many arguments for paying attention to religious freedom, which can also be defended on purely utilitarian grounds or from philosophical first principles. But they certainly highlight the rarity and importance of various types of liberty, religious liberty foremost among them. 

Through centuries of trial and error, my kids’ ancestors made the decisions to land us here in the United States, a place with a great deal of liberty. This Fourth of July and Pioneer Day, my kids should be grateful for this: grateful that they are American citizens, grateful that they have religious liberty, and grateful for those who came before them. We have a rare gift; may it last. 

Read more from Tom at his blog, tomnysetvold.com.

The post Ancestral Lessons in Religious Freedom appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Back in high school, I was in the musical Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat, joining the other shifty sons of Jacob in singing the ballad “There’s One More Angel in Heaven”—which essentially tried to cover up our shady attempt to get rid of a troublesome voice in our lives.   

We lied. And we pretended. And we did everything we could to make this uncomfortable brother of ours go away.

But it didn’t work.  Because God’s hand was on this beleaguered man. And he had a mission to perform.

Most people are at least somewhat familiar of the story about how God used an obscure prisoner in Egypt named Joseph to save the family of Jacob (despite their attempts to kill him) and usher in the future Israelite people. Christians and Jews around the world honor this man and his legacy.

Now, it’s time to honor another man’s legacy, with more people learning how a relatively obscure individual named Gary Wilson, who identified as an atheist, became a tool to do an inspiring work  – arguably accomplishing more himself to free men and women from the ravages of pornography addiction than arguably any religious believer has the world over.

Gary died two days ago (Thursday, May 20 2021 – press release here), after years of battling intense physical pain associated with various treatments for Lyme’s disease, and also after years of relentless, vicious attacks from online trolls who decided to make Gary the lightning-rod target and public example of what people who stood up to pornography so publicly, and so effectively, deserved.

Those who raise their voices to advocate uncomfortable truth have, of course, always been attacked and persecuted.  It was Albert Einstein who once said, “Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds.”

Throughout human history, these people standing up on the wall and scorned have usually been called “prophets.”  Jeremiah, Micah, Amos, Ezekial, and Isaiah all suffered intense hatred and public derision throughout their lives, as they raised their voices to share a message of hope, healing, and deliverance. And like many of the apostles in the New Testament, each of these individuals eventually suffered violent deaths; according to the Bible, Micah was pushed off a cliff and Isaiah was sawn in two.

No, Gary wasn’t sawn in two or crucified upside down by his enemies.  But after watching close-up the corrosive, gradual impact of years of cruel bullying, and personally witnessing how it gradually ravaged his emotional and physical health, I go on record today to publicly register my strong conviction that this campaign of enduring aggression was directly responsible for his eventual collapse.

If only these people understood the true goodness of this man—and what acute, aching pain their words often created for him (and for those who loved him).  Much can and should be said (and done) about this—with some preliminary thoughts of my own in a forthcoming piece of my own, entitled “Looking for a Cause? Join the Movement Fighting-those-Fighting the Porn Industry!”

But the focus today should be squarely on this man and his life’s work. One thing is for sure:  Friends and allies of Gary will not allow the work he led out on to stop—nor will we permit his enemies to have the final say.

Me and Gary. I met Gary when working at the non-profit Fight the New Drug, during a time when we were under assault by the same derisive voices—pretending that our efforts to educate teens on the harms of pornography were somehow “misrepresenting” the science.  Gary was pivotal in helping us formulate a public response, centered around what should have been widely obvious to many, and which I believe will be one of Gary’s most lasting influences.  Namely, the extent to which the existing scientific research is stunningly consistent in its conclusions about the impact of pornography.

That may be news to you.  You may be one of many who have heard that the research on pornography is “confusing” or “not clear.” If so, then please take this moment to check out Gary’s website, Your Brain on Porn, or read his best-selling book by the same name (free audio version here, narrated by his friend Noah Church) or watch his 2012 TedTalk here, “The Great Porn Experiment”—viewed by 14 million people around the world.

But pay special attention to his research page, which many consider the most comprehensive summary of research on pornography addiction anywhere in the world. On that page, Gary laid out links to careful and comprehensive compilations of research, including (excerpting from his site):

• Over 85 studies linking porn use to poorer mental-emotional health & poorer cognitive outcomes.
• Over 80 studies linking porn use to less sexual and relationship satisfaction.
• Over 60 studies reporting findings consistent with escalation of porn use (tolerance), habituation to porn, and even withdrawal symptoms (all signs and symptoms associated with addiction).
• Every neuroscience-based study (MRI, fMRI, EEG, neuropsychological, hormonal) published of porn users & sex addicts (55 total) – all but one of which provide support for the addiction model.
•  Over 40 studies linking porn use/porn addiction to sexual problems and lower arousal to sexual stimuli. (The first 7 studies in the list demonstrate causation, as participants eliminated porn use and healed chronic sexual dysfunctions).
• Over 40 studies link porn use to “un-egalitarian attitudes” toward women and sexist views.
• 32 recent literature reviews & commentaries by some of the top neuroscientists in the world. (All support the addiction model).

This is the research evidence that many popular voices continue to insist is “debated” or “misrepresented” by those raising concern with the harms of pornography. And this is the reason his ideological opponents couldn’t stand his work…it left so little wiggle room to pretend to any other reality!

And thanks to that precious clarity, many millions of teens and adults all around the world have been able to find themselves today either free from pornography (check out some of the stories) or on a pathway to lasting freedom … disabused from the many fairytales being popularized by people with other agendas, “oh, this porn’s really that harmful—certainly not addictive … oh, it actually improves relationships and gender attitudes … oh, didn’t you know porn use decreases rape rates? … what we should really be talking about is shame, NOT porn! … oh, don’t you know porn users really just have high sexual desire?”

Nonsense. All of it.

How can we say that with such clarity? Because of Gary Wilson. That’s why.  His website became over the years the go-to place for debunking every one of these kinds of myths with crystalline, and plain-spoken clarity—all while giving fresh hope to so many millions that it’s possible to live free from these pornographic illusions. (To get a small sense of what this has meant for real lives, read a handful of some of the nearly 1400 overwhelmingly effusive reviews on the amazon page for his book or over 5,000 first hand accounts of people making progress in their own recovery).

Let this day be the time we collectively dispense of imaginary and reckless counter-notions because, as you can see, the research is abundantly clear. Some may continue to wail and gnash their teeth in opposition to this truth – picking at it, and deriding it.  But thanks to the hard-fought work of this unheralded man, the truth should be clear to anyone open to seeing it.

I had the privilege of presenting alongside Gary in 2018 at the Coalition to End Sexual Exploitation, hosted by the National Center on Sexual Exploitation. Our side-by-side talks focused on the “Facts and Fiction of Porn Research” and a new way to help people recognize “Porn-Science-Propaganda” when they see it.  Doing this with Gary was one of the highlights of my career.  We’ve stayed in contact ever since, with many phone calls and emails I’ve greatly enjoyed.

Speaking to him just days before his passing, Gary’s primary concern to begin our call was to find out about our daughter Emma, who has been struggling with her health.  He told me how much he had been thinking about and concerned for her (and separately told Alexander Rhodes how worried he was about us, in in a separate call).

That’s the kind of man Gary was—and is (more on that below).  I loved (and love) this man’s gentle spirit, and his voracious desire for the truth—documenting it, and sharing it with the world.

All this is why I believe, as a convicted follower of Jesus Christ myself, that Gary is experiencing great joy this week, surely greeted by some sort of a heavenly parade, thanking him for his remarkable work in the world.

And, of course, giving him his first lessons on the reality of the God he unwittingly served on earth below.  (:

Of course, many Christians would argue the opposite—believing as they do that if you haven’t explicitly “confessed the name of Jesus” in this life, well, good luck for you in the next. 

What a despairing and harsh view is that! No, that’s not what I believe – nor millions of Latter-day Saints around the world.  Because as the martyred prophet Joseph Smith beautifully taught, all will be given the opportunity to accept the fullness of truth one day – including, and especially, those good souls who never had a legitimate chance of receiving it.

In the very moment, some are saying, “Lord, Lord, did we not preach in your name…and do many mighty works?” and then hear back, ” I never knew you”—ironically, many others who hardly spoke the name of Jesus—but who accomplished great good for the well-being of God’s sons and daughters on earth—will, I believe, get a surprising embrace from Someone they ended up knowing all too well.

That same being who Isaiah calls “a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief” and who was “despised and rejected” by many in his life.  

But not everyone.

Gary also had dear friends who brought sweetness to his life, especially Marnia Robinson.  But also including Noah Church, Gabe Deem, Darryl Mead, Alexander Rhodes, Mary Sharpe, Arion Sprague, Staci Sprout, Don Hilton, Gale Dines, and Liz Walker, who have each made their own important and invaluable contributions to this work.

But Gary also tasted a sizeable amount of that bitter grief himself, in the service of a cause higher than himself … which is what I find most remarkable.

Whereas many only pursue something outside of themselves out of conviction in a higher will or greater cause or divine plan they are beholden to, Gary did all this without any of that conviction. 

Imagine that—and what kind of inner courage, strength and love that would take? 

No wonder his loss is so painful to all who knew and loved him—especially if we believed we would never see him again.  

The Prophet Joseph also taught: “More painful to me are the thoughts of annihilation than death. If I have no expectation of seeing my father, mother, brothers, sisters and friends again, my heart would burst in a moment, and I should go down to my grave.”

Mine would too.  If that’s what I believed.

But I don’t. Joseph went on to teach what I know for myself in my bones: death does not extinguish a living soul, and there is a way for for relationships and love in this life to endure forever as well: “And that same sociality which exists among us here will exist among us there, only it will be coupled with eternal glory.”

The God that makes all this possible is the source of my peace today, and my prayer for all of Gary’s friends and family.

So, rather than reassuring ourselves by saying something like, “you will live on in our memories and the work you left behind,” let’s say something much better than that—channeling the parting words in Gladiator by the friend of Maximus following his death: “I will see you again, but not yet…not yet.”

Today, I issue this tribute to a Giant of a man—who will be spoken of in future history books as one of the lone “voices in the wilderness” sharing a hopeful message that millions were desperate to hear, and a handful were desperate to silence.  

Thank you, Gary.  Enjoy that parade.

You deserve it.  I’m going to live differently because of you, as so many millions others can likewise say. 

I love you and your sweetheart Marnia—as do so many here you left behind.  

We’ll take good care of her—and keep up the good fight.   

Can’t wait to see you again.

**

“Then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? …We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed. In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed. For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality.…Thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” (1 Corinthians 15:54–57)

“Behold, it has been made known unto me by an angel, that the spirits of all men, as soon as they are departed from this mortal body, yea, the spirits of all men, whether they be good or evil, are taken home to that God who gave them life. And then shall it come to pass, that the spirits of those who are righteous are received into a state of happiness, which is called paradise, a state of rest, a state of peace, where they shall rest from all their troubles and from all care, and sorrow.” (Alma 4: 11-12)

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This is what happens in the inner recesses of our souls when people we admire and love leave us.

I never met Rabbi Sacks, who died from cancer on November 7 at age 72. But thanks to the gifts of his books, op-eds, lectures, speeches, and interviews, I did not have to meet this prolific religious genius to be educated by his mind, inspired by his faith, and lifted by his wit.

Rabbi Sacks was a graceful, winsome, even humorous ambassador for the importance of faith in God and respect for our many differences. Once, while accepting an award for his defense of religious freedom, he told the story of attending a soccer game in the early 1990s with George Carey, the newly installed Archbishop of Canterbury. Both Rabbi Sacks and the archbishop, it turned out, were fans of Arsenal, who that night was playing Manchester United.

“They had the public address system announce that, ‘Tonight we have with us the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Chief Rabbi [of the United Kingdom],’” he said. “And you could hear the buzz go around the ground that whichever way you played this particular theological wager, one way or another, that night, Arsenal had friends in high places. They couldn’t possibly lose. That night, Arsenal went down to their worst home defeat in sixty-three years.”

As Rabbi Sacks tells the story, a journalist with a national British newspaper mused the next day about what the loss said about the existence of God. If the support of the archbishop and the chief rabbi couldn’t bring about a victory for Arsenal, then what could? 

“The next day, they carried my reply, which said, ‘It proves that God exists. It’s just that he supports Manchester United,’” Rabbi Sacks said.

He then drew from this lighthearted story a profound insight: “What if God is not only on my side, but also on the other side? What if God cares about the game, not just the team?” In other words, he said, “Our common humanity precedes our religious differences.”

On another occasion, Rabbi Sacks noted one important way to honor this common humanity while staying true to our beliefs.

“How do you get from intense religious faith to liberty of conscience, doctrine of toleration and human rights?” he asked. “The answer is, it is a very short step from saying ‘My faith is the most important thing there is, therefore everyone must share my faith,’ to ‘since faith is the most important thing there is, everyone should be free to pursue his or her own faith.’ It is one small step” (emphasis added).

These ideas are delicious to me—perhaps more so because of the helpful tension they add to my own beliefs as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Like some other churches in the world, the Latter-day Saints believe they belong to the true church. And yet we also believe, as our founder Joseph Smith taught, that we cannot become pure Latter-day Saints if we do not “get all the good in the world,” regardless of its source. “When we see virtuous qualities in men,” Joseph said, “we should always acknowledge them, let their understanding be what it may in relation to creeds and doctrine. For all men are, or ought to be free; possessing unalienable rights, and the high, and noble qualifications of the laws of nature and of self-preservation; to think, and act, and say as they please; while they maintain a due respect to the rights and privileges of all other creatures; infringing upon none. This doctrine I do most heartily subscribe to, and practice.”

It isn’t hard to imagine Joseph Smith and Rabbi Sacks striking hands in heaven.

With these thoughts warming me, my eyes turn back to the window to watch the snow fall. Instead of cold and dark, I feel warmth and light. My soul senses a message from the rabbi in the snow covering my yard. Snow, the great lawn equalizer. It’s interesting, isn’t it? Some neighbors of mine maintain beautiful lawns. Their grass is a dark, luscious green, watered thoroughly by expensive sprinkler systems. Their landscaping is immaculate. But when the snow comes, everyone’s lawn—even my parched, yellow quarter acre—looks essentially the same. 

Our differences are real. Our gifts vary. Our understandings are imperfect. But the snow reminds us that something precedes all of that. As Rabbi Sacks would say, “our common humanity precedes our religious differences” and clearly, our political differences too. 

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Rabbi Sacks—a man who wrote more than 30 books—is still sending out prophetic missives from his well-deserved resting place in the heavens above.

The post Rabbi Sacks, the Snow, and Our Common Humanity appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

In January 2017, I was a third-year law student at Georgetown Law and working full-time on Capitol Hill for Senator John Thune (R-SD).  I began my career on Capitol Hill 12 years earlier as an intern for Senator Orrin Hatch (R-UT) and more recently had worked for then-Senator Dan Coats (R-IN).  Like many of my Hill staffer colleagues, I had volunteered to help with the Presidential Inauguration.  Would-be volunteers apply months in advance before we even know who the President will be.  We are later interviewed by staffers from the Joint Congressional Committee on Inaugural Ceremonies (JCCIC) to determine assignments.

Regardless of who the President was going to be, I knew I would be happy to serve as a host to guests of our U.S. Capitol building who would soon be coming to witness the Inauguration ceremonies of the President and Vice President.  I have a deep love for this extraordinary building and know every back staircase, shortcut, and basement tunnel by heart.  A few weeks before the January 20, 2017 ceremony, I was assigned to escort VIPs from their holding rooms to the Inaugural stage.  I could not have guessed at the time what I would later personally witness.

As preparations and rehearsals were underway at the Capitol, I also had obligations across the street as a third-year law student at one of the most elite law schools in the world—Georgetown Law.  Georgetown has optional 1-credit courses offered prior to the beginning of a semester,  befittingly called “Week One” courses. I applied for and was admitted to a specialty Supreme Court Topics course on dissents by Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg and taught by Ruth’s official biographer, Professor Mary Hartnett.  What no one knew at the time was that Justice Ginsburg herself would teach part of the course.  Only 10 students were admitted to the class.

On January 10, 2017, I spent several hours being taught by Justice Ginsburg.  The nine other students in the course and I discussed with Justice Ginsburg some of her most famous dissents and bench announcements.  We discussed the equal protection method and rational basis; race discrimination and strict scrutiny; gender discrimination and intermediate scrutiny; sexual autonomy and reproductive rights; and freedom of expression.  When class was finished, Justice Ginsburg graciously invited us to watch President Barack Obama’s farewell speech live with her that evening.  We all readily accepted.

A short while later, we were all situated to watch our then-President address us one last time.  I was seated to the right of Justice Ginsburg with a profile view of her as we watched the screen.  President Obama’s speech was poetic and poignant.  Justice Ginsburg often nodded along with what he was saying.  Obama pointed out that “…democracy does require a basic sense of solidarity—the idea that for all our outward differences, we’re all in this together; that we rise or fall as one.”  Justice Ginsburg, with her tiny stature but mighty presence, solemnly muttered an emphatic “Yes!”

Ten days later, I was at the Capitol situated at the bottom of the “chute”—the long tunnel leading from the Crypt to the Inaugural stage.  I was waiting for my last VIP to arrive so I could escort him to his seat outside on the stage.  As I waited, I watched with fascination and admiration as others lined up in the chute to take their place: President and Mrs. Carter, President and Secretary Clinton, President and Mrs. Bush, Michelle Obama, and all eight Supreme Court Justices.  As Justice Ginsburg made her way down the chute, I quietly whispered hello to her in my mind.  Out of respect for decorum, it would have been inappropriate for me to interrupt her to say hello.  However, she caught my eye and softly smiled and nodded her head toward me.  I reverently smiled back.

Before I knew it, the final dignitaries were making their way down the chute: Nancy Pelosi, Chuck Schumer, Paul Ryan, and Mitch McConnell.  Following closely behind were President Barack Obama and Vice President Joe Biden.  They were ahead of schedule and had to wait for several minutes in the chute before going out to the stage.  President Obama was less than two feet away from me and I found myself overcome with emotion.

All was quiet in the chute except for the faint patriotic music we could hear coming from the stage.  I stood staring at the profile of this man.  Our current president.  Still the leader of the free world, in the final minutes of his presidency.  In less than half an hour Obama would go from President to ordinary citizen.  He closed his eyes and took several big breaths as if he were meditating.  The calm on his face looked as if he was taking everything in.  I quietly captured that moment with a picture on my phone.

Before I knew it, President Obama turned and looked at me and those standing around me.  I realized warm tears had gathered in my eyes and were slipping down my cheek.  President Obama reached out to shake my hand.  As our hands embraced he firmly said, “it’s all going to be okay.” I wiped my tears away as I replied, “thank you.  Thank you so much for all of your sacrifices.”  President Obama was then called to the stage.

A moment later, I was surrounded by a SWAT team and I knew that Donald Trump must be near.  Sure enough, Trump came into view in the final stretch of the chute.  There were still several minutes before he was due on the stage and he stood alone waiting in the same spot Obama had stood just seconds before.  Everything and everyone was painfully quiet.  The air was heavy with questions—the mystery of what would happen when Donald Trump took his oath of office and became President of the United States.  Ready or not, we would soon find out.  As his name was called, I watched Donald Trump leave the civilian world behind to take on the mantle of the Presidency.  As we all know, it didn’t take long for controversy, chaos, and confusion to set in at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.

It has been nearly four years since I sat at the feet of Justice Ginsburg and then witnessed first-hand the changing of the guard at the White House.  The two experiences are interwoven in my memory because I can’t properly explain the influence Justice Ginsburg had on me unless you understand the context of what was happening in the world when we met.

If the world felt divisive in January 2017, it pales in comparison to how the bitterness and fatigue feel today.  Before you read the next news article or watch an interview on television or talk about politics with your friends and family, I have two lessons from Justice Ginsburg’s life for you to consider.

First, words matter.  Justice Ginsburg changed the way I read and write.  Words can paint pictures, I learned from her.  Choosing the right word, and the right word order, she argued, can make an enormous difference in conveying an image or idea.  Her dissents and opinions are persuasive.  The examples and stories she shares are logical and not overly emotional.  Justice Ginsburg made her point and respectfully allowed others to express their beliefs.

I have read thousands and thousands of documents relating to legal matters.  Any entire case can hinge on the interpretation of one word.  Words really do matter in many different contexts, but most importantly in our personal lives.  Choose your words carefully and be open to the idea that other people have sincerely held beliefs that are as equally earnest and well-intentioned as your own. 

Second, Justice Ginsburg showed up.  No one is legally compelled to go to the inauguration except the incoming president.  Even the sitting U.S. president does not have to attend.  But Justice Ginsburg braved the cold and showed up that January morning.  She did not want Donald Trump to be the president, but she understood it was an important moment in history.  Her attendance was not a sign of conformity; it was a sign that she’s dedicated to decorum, respect, and democracy.

Likewise, you can show up.  You can show up for your friends and your family with whom you may disagree.  You can attend the wedding, the birthday party, the Sunday family dinner, or whatever else you are invited to without compromising your beliefs.  Your presence is important.

I gave birth to my first child—a tiny baby girl—a few weeks ago.  She is sleeping peacefully next to me as I write this tribute.  I want my daughter to know who Ruth Bader Ginsburg was.  Ruth was a lawyer, daughter, sister, wife, mother, professor, leader, writer, scholar, feminist, and friend.  She was kind, deliberate, strong, thoughtful, bold, intelligent, and brave.  She was stunningly beautiful.  I want my daughter to know women like Ruth.  More importantly, I want my daughter to be like Ruth.  

The rising generation, more so than any other generation, believes in a fair, and just, and inclusive America.  They are altruistic, sensitive, unselfish, and willing to carry the hard work of democracy forward.  I hope the example of Ruth Bader Ginsburg and her life will continue to guide them and all of us.  Show up, choose your words carefully, and never, ever give up.

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