Arrows in the hand of a mighty man

I found this scripture last night, and I thought the imagery and symbolism were really cool:

3 Lo, ^achildren are an ^bheritage of the Lord: and the fruit of the womb is his ^creward.

4 As arrows are in the hand of a mighty man; so are children of the youth.

5 ^aHappy is the man that hath his quiver full of them: they shall not be ashamed, but they shall speak with the enemies in the gate.

(Psalms 127:3-5)

Ephraim?

Is the Word of Wisdom especially tailored to Ephraim (in the Last Days, the tribe to be restored first to prepare the way for the others, etc.)? May they have a tendency for weakness in certain areas? Is this a reason why the Word of Wisdom was given—to help modern Ephraim avoid their stumbling block when confronting worldly vices? Not only alcohol, but other substances are a scourge in our times.

I offer here a comparison of Isaiah 28 and D&C 89, looking for common themes and images in order to explore the possible relation between these two revelations. Revelations come from a common source and may be more interelated than we might realize. (Or perhaps the relationships in this case are mostly part of my own imagination.)

KEY:
In what follows: Isaiah 28 is in regular type. D&C 89 is in italics. Points of contact are in bold. (Not all similarities are of equal significance, some may have no significance. Some are similar in imagery, but not context--can imagery be an independent system? One thing is sure: the way to find things is to search for them.)


1 WOE to the crown of pride, to the drunkards of Ephraim, whose glorious beauty is a fading flower, which are on the head of the fat valleys of them that are overcome with wine!
2 Behold, the Lord hath a mighty and strong one, which as a tempest of hail and a destroying storm, as a flood of mighty waters overflowing, shall cast down to the earth with the hand. . .
21 And I, the Lord, give unto them a promise, that the destroying angel shall pass by them, as the children of Israel, and not slay them. . .


3 The crown of pride, the drunkards of Ephraim, shall be trodden under feet: . .
5 That inasmuch as any man drinketh wine or strong drink
20 And shall run and not be weary, and shall walk and not faint. . .


4 And the glorious beauty, which is on the head of the fat valley, shall be a fading flower, and as the hasty fruit before the summer; which when he that looketh upon it seeth, while it is yet in his hand he eateth it up. . .
11 Every herb in the season thereof, and every fruit in the season thereof; all these to be used with prudence and thanksgiving. . .


5 In that day shall the LORD of hosts be for a crown of glory, and for a diadem of beauty, unto the residue of his people, . .
2 . . .showing forth the order and will of God in the temporal salvation of all saints in the last days-- . . .
19 And shall find wisdom and great treasures of knowledge, even hidden treasures . . .


6 And for a spirit of judgment to him that sitteth in judgment, and for strength to them that turn the battle to the gate. . .
7 But they also have erred through wine, and through strong drink are out of the way; the priest and the prophet have erred through strong drink, they are swallowed up of wine, they are out of the way through strong drink; they err in vision, they stumble in judgment. 8 For all tables are full of vomit and filthiness, so that there is no place clean. . .
9 Whom shall he teach knowledge? and whom shall he make to understand doctrine? . .
5 That inasmuch as any man drinketh wine or strong drink among you, behold it is not good, neither meet in the sight of your Father . . .
19 And shall find wisdom and great treasures of knowledge, even hidden treasures . . .
20 And shall run and not be weary, and shall walk and not faint.

See also 2 Nephi 28:77 for this prophecy of our time: Yea, and there shall be many which shall say: Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die; and it shall be well with us.

Would I do the same?

My friend made an interesting hypothesis a while ago- she said that you see people doing things for the same reason  you would do them. This caused me to reflect and I felt a little ashamed. When you are irritated with someone because you think they've snubbed you or you feel like they went out of their way to be unkind- does it mean that you would do the same to someone? I guess the Savior knows why we all of us do what we do, he understands human nature perfectly but he's not like that at all. What do you think?

Who's responsible for my health?

Have you seen "Supersize Me"? Basically the movie is a self documentary, about this this guy who decides to eat at McDonalds three times a day, breakfast, lunch and dinner, for 30 days. He ordered a "value meal" each time, and if the counter person asked him if he would "like that supersized" he would say yes. So, that was his experiment, to see what would happen to him. In the end he gained a whole bunch of weight, and all kinds of health problems. Before the 30 day experiment was up, his doctor told him he better stop or he might die from the complications. I can't remember if the guy stopped before the 30 days or not.

I just went through the McDonalds drive through for lunch. Over the speaker the lady asked me if I would like my value meal "large sized" because it is on sale. When I got up to the window, I asked her if they changed the "super size" name to "large size." She said that large size is smaller than super size, and they don't have super size anymore because the guy who made the Supersize Me movie sued McDonalds and many of the McDonalds stores lost (I don't know if she meant went out of business or what). So, this guy ON PURPOSE eats McDonalds super sized meals three times a day for 30 days, his doctor tells him to stop or he is going to die. Then he sues McDonalds. What do you think about that?

Top Ten

Just to continue the technology discussion...





Top Ten reasons why technology makes our lives easier.



10) Cell phones have become smaller and smaller so that you can keep them anywhere and also lose them anywhere.

9) Cell phones also have special features now, like silent vibration and text messaging, that make it possible for any one of your aquaintances to track you down anywhere, anytime, if there's an emergency or if there's not.

8) Cars make it possible to get to farther places faster than our pioneer ancestors, so that we can get jobs in big cities and have homes in the suburbs, because the commute is only an hour and a half, and with eight to ten hours at work, that leaves approximately a half-hour of waking time actually at home with our families.

7) Television creates an opportunity for the entertainment geniuses of our time to do their stuff, and we have the opportunity to watch it five hours a day, seven days a week, time during which, if you use it to practice the piano or acting or tai kwon do, you could develop some pretty phenomenal entertaining abilities yourself.

6) Farming has now become industrial, and so a much bigger number of people can be supported by a much smaller number of farmers who employ techniques such as pest-spraying, unseasonal harvesting, and chemical preserving in order to actually be able to have the time to grow enough food to support such a large number of people.

5) The internet has made it possible to find any piece of information, anywhere, and it's so easy, even young children can use it; and do, every day.

4) With calculators, math is so much quicker and easier; in fact, they make it so quick, and so easy, that there are times when I've forgotten how to do long division.

3) With a credit card, it is much easier to go shopping, because you don't have to carry all this confusing cash around, and also you can buy all the groceries you want even at the end of the month.

2) With a digital camera, you can take hundreds of beautiful pictures of everything of importance in life and the colors and image are so true to life that you hardly even feel left out seeing all of this through the camera lens.

1) A computer is an amazing thing. Life is so much more organized, quick, and efficient, you can get so much done with a computer, it's even worth the hours each day of time spent figuring out how to make it work right.

The Dog and the Turnip


Once there was a lost dog. I don't know how he got so far from the farm where he lived--maybe he chased a cat too long, or maybe he was led away by a strange scent. Or maybe he just wandered away one night while he was dreaming. Once the dog realized he could not find his way home, he sauntered along the road, roaming this way and that, as dogs do.

There was a wide and spacious field near the road, and growing in the field was a turnip. The turnip called out to the dog, saying, "Ho there! You look like you're lost. Come over into this field and spend your days here." So the dog stayed in the field, catching mice for food. He amused himself by chasing butterflies. He comforted himself by rolling in the grass. He fulfilled his sense of achievement by barking all day and all night and all day and all night, until he was completely worn out. And he slept.

One day the dog said, "I'm lonely. I miss my family and I miss the farm. I want to go home."
"You don't ever need to go home," the turnip replied. "In this field we have all we could ever ask for. I am perfectly satisfied to spend my days here."

"But you are a turnip," replied the dog. "A dog needs more."

So the dog leapt up and ran out of the field, and back down the road again. After a few minutes, he heard a familiar voice calling him. The Farmer had been searching along that road for him ever since he was lost.

P.S.

"And yeah, if you are having children right now you are being selfish. You’re stealing. Stealing from the future. Stealing from the rest of humanity. Stealing from every living thing on the earth right now." --Steven Kotler

Just so you know, this conversation has still been going on here.

question of the day

Will there be soloists in heaven?

Religion "Fixed in Human Nature"

http://newsweek.washingtonpost.com/onfaith/panelists/michael_otterson/2009/03/fixed_in_human_nature.html#

This is an article that was recently published in the Washington Post written by the head of public affairs for the church.  It isn't about our church, at least not directly, but about faith being "fixed in human nature."  It's a short article, written simply.  I was curious what each of you thought of the article and the truth of what it talks about.

P.S. I have really enjoyed everyone's posts, even if I haven't had the time yet to comment as I would like to each of them.  We have a wonderful family.

Is all music created equal?

Over the last several years, I have been contemplating the universe of music. I think this forum is a good place to discuss this, as we have many musicians, composers and thinkers lurking about. Some highly educated in music, some not (in the traditional sense). I think views of both are equally important in relation to this subject.

There are experiences that I have had over the last several years that have brought questions to my mind.

Having a member of my family become obsessed with a style of music that I can’t stand (I only refer to the music itself, not any other social aspects associated with the music)- Its not that I just don’t prefer it, I really, truly can’t listen to it, I have to wear ear plugs. It causes me physical distress. On the other hand, this family member can hear all kinds of qualities in this music, melodic lines, expert playing, etc. (this person has analyzed this style of music in depth). Also, another family member says that this same style of music makes him happy, and gives him comfort. How could the exact same music give the feelings of peace and happiness in one person, and be so absolutely opposite to another, creating nausea and headache?

In church- sometimes there are musical numbers presented in a way that takes away the spirit for me, yet brings the spirit to others. How is that possible? Isn’t the spirit either there or not?

A conversation with the highly educated- I had the opportunity to work with very highly educated, respected performers last weekend (with prestigious colleges degrees and many years of study). In discussing audiences with them (or the lack of audience rather) they tried to explain why: that music composed and performed on the highest level draws the smallest audience. They explained it by associating it with learning math. When a person is young and just starting to learn to think, they learn the very basics of math. Addition. As they get the idea, they learn multiplication. Later, when they are ready, they learn complicated equations. Those who dedicate their lives to understanding math study, research, and come to know the most important, complicated math of all and how it relates to the universe. However, those who are still only doing addition can’t be expected to understand on the highest level. Is the understanding of music like this, is this a good analogy? In a lesson with one of these highly educated people, she told me that her job as a musician isn’t to interpret the music herself, but to do her best to recreate the music that the composer intended. In fact, I mentioned to one of them after a concert that I liked their interpretation of something (which I realized later could have been considered derogatory).

Conversations with the uneducated- When discussing music with those who don’t have a traditional education, say- folk musicians. They learn from hearing others play the music that they have heard their whole lives. They enjoy it and it is embedded into their entire being. It represents their culture, life experiences and even gives them identity. They don’t know what key or mode they play in, or how to even read music. Top folk musicians in the field are extremely skilled players, just as skilled at playing their own music as no. 3 above.

Conversation with Jazz musicians, who are also highly educated- They consider themselves successful if they can take a tune or song and give it their own interpretation that will inspire some sort of sentiment in the audience (and with each other). Their whole purpose in music is to give their own interpretations through improvisation with the music changing every time it is performed. Like a moving river.

Conversation with school teachers- In our district, the school administrators are cutting the orchestra program, which I have been working hard with others to establish in the schools. We currently have a very strong band and choir program, which aren’t getting cut. The administration sees music as music, to cut the “fringes” to save money in hard economic times. Is orchestra a fringe music. Is orchestra more of a fringe music in our society than band or orchestra? Also, an interesting phenomena- the students who are serious about their academic studies are also drawn to strings classes (orchestra) over band and choir (as much as people don’t want to admit it, it’s true). What does this mean, if anything?


The funny thing to me is, each of the above categories of people think they know what music is, and what it is for, and most of them will never agree. So what is music? Is it something to be studied and understood (which is the only real way to fully appreciate it)? Is it something that should be measured by how it makes a person feel? Is it something that exists as an avenue for people to express how they feel or think?

It is interesting for me, to have the opportunity to associate with all sorts of musicians from different universes. Each thinks they have the real vision of what music is, and the purpose of it. Perhaps there is no such thing as music at all. The only thing the exists is people’s perceptions.

In the Thicket

Skunk came running into the meadow. “There’s something wrong in the forest!” he cried. “There’s a wrong smell there!”

“What kind of smell is it?” asked Deer.

“I can’t really say, but it’s wrong,” replied Skunk.

“Where in the forest is it?” asked Rabbit.

“Come and see!” said Skunk. He ran back into the wood, looking over his shoulder, beckoning for Deer and Rabbit to follow him. After a little while Skunk pointed towards a large oak tree. “The smell is coming from over there somewhere,” he said.

“That’s where Bluebird lives,” said Deer. As the three of them approached the tree they noticed that on the ground there were twigs and pieces of straw scattered everywhere.

“Look up in the tree,” cried Rabbit. “Bluebird’s nest is gone! I think those things on the ground are all parts of it.” As Rabbit said this, she hopped all around the base of the tree, looking for signs of Bluebird.

“Bluebird!” shouted Deer, “Where are you? Bluebird, are you all right?”

“The smell’s coming from the thicket over there,” Skunk said, pointing to a thicket just beyond the oak tree. “And look, I think that’s Bluebird over in the thicket, too.”

As the three came close to the thicket, they saw Bluebird, and also two other birds, Robin and Jaybird, all huddling together in the bushes.

“Bluebird,” Deer called out. “Are you all right? What happened to your nest?”

“I didn’t need that nest anymore,” replied Bluebird. “We have a much better nest down here in the thicket.”

“But don’t birds of your kind build nests up in trees?” asked Rabbit.

“We always thought we had to,” Bluebird replied. “We just did it that way naturally, you know. But now we have found a better way to make a nest, haven’t we, girls?”

“We sure have,” chirped Robin and Jaybird.

Deer and Rabbit shrugged and turned to go, but Skunk was uneasy. “There’s a wrong smell in there,” he said, “I’m sure of it.”

. . . .

Back when the Visitor first arrived, she brought exotic ideas that Bluebird, Robin and Jaybird had never before imagined. “If you make your nest out of twigs and straw and other junk you find lying around, of course it’s going to look gunky and crude. There are finer materials available that I can help you get.”

“Would you really do that for us?” asked Bluebird.

“I would,” said the Visitor. “But even if you had the right materials, what would you do with them? Now, I know some very elegant plans for nests. They’re not that different in concept from the ones you make—you’d feel right at home—but they’re very intricate in design and the pattern is delightful and beautiful.”

“Oh, would you help us with that, too?” asked Robin.

“I would,” said the Visitor. “But the best thing is that the nest I help you make would be so much more useful to you than your nests are now. The way you live now, you must spend so much time out flying around looking for food. What a hard life! Such hard work, flying! Your nest could actually relieve this problem. You can have a nest with a real purpose--one that gives you food!”

“Would you really help us make a nest like that?” asked Jaybird.

“I would,” said the Visitor.

“Well, when can we start?” asked the three birds, excited.

“Well, how about right now?” said the Visitor. “But let’s not make it up in a tree, where you’re forced to fly around all the time. Let’s make it right down here in the thicket, a very good spot. And look, I have some fine thread right here with me now. Here, let me show you.” The Visitor was very quick and adept as she started weaving with all eight of her legs.

. . . . .

“The forest is so quiet these days,” said Deer.

“I know there’s something missing, but what is it?” said Rabbit.

“It’s Bluebird and Robin and Jaybird,” said Skunk. “They don’t sing anymore. And none of their little birdlings sing either. In fact, I don’t think there are any birdlings anymore.”

“How sad,” said Deer. And he and Rabbit ran off to play.

Skunk sat there looking towards the forest. “There’s something not right in that thicket,” he said to himself. “There’s a bad smell in there.”

some cool pictures

My sister in law took that you might be interested in. Make sure ya scroll down just a little...

Xanthl's Place

We decided to stay the night at the first of the two hotels on the lonely road. This one looked cheaper, and it still looked like a nice enough place. It advertised clean beds and showers, anyway, and that was what we needed.

At the front desk, we met a strangely charming man. His head was bald and very shiny.

“Call me Xanthl,” he said in a smooth voice.“And you needn’t pay anything.”

Seeing my surprised look, he added, “You’re not staying very long, right? That’s what we’re here for-- to give shelter to those passing through.” He shrugged.

“We can pay,” I insisted.

“We’ll discuss it later,” he said. “And now, go up to your rooms and rest.” He smiled at Alice and Dinah. They smiled shyly back.

A kind older lady showed us to our rooms. The girls squealed with delight when they saw the bunk beds. “Awesome!”

I tried to stay a little more detached and cool. “It’s just for tonight, ladies,” I reminded them. “Tomorrow we’ll be on our way.”

“Aw, why do you have to be such a party pooper?” Dinah asked me. “We haven’t had a nice bed to sleep in for days! And these are perfect!”

“Yeah,” Alice put in with a pout. “I’m tired of sleeping in the car.”

I didn’t reply. I just shoved my tattered bag underneath the bed by the window.

I was tired of sleeping in the car too.

* * * *

We had meant to stay for only one night, but we ended up staying longer. On the seventh day, I decided to talk to the girls about it.

“Hey, there’s something we need to discuss,” I said in a casual voice. They were lounging on their beds, snacking on some strawberries that the serving lady had brought up to our room.

“What?” asked Alice.

“Well, I just… I think we should be on our way,” I said.

“Yeah, maybe…” Dinah replied. “I mean, I guess we’ve been here for a while. But what’s the rush?”

“Xanthl’s a real dream, isn’t he?” Alice said, changing the subject.

“Yeah, he is pretty great,” agreed Dinah. They began discussing his dreaminess and all that, so I didn’t say anything else. Maybe it would be okay if we stayed a little longer.

But really, weren’t things just a little too perfect? Is there such a thing?

* * * *

On our twenty-first morning at the resort, the intercom called for someone named Ben to come to Xanthl’s office.

That was when I decided it had been long enough. I was out-y. I knew I might have a hard time persuading the girls, but I couldn’t stay any longer. I brought it up again while we were all in the bedroom and Xanthl’s listening ears weren’t near.

“I’m getting out. Tonight,” I announced abruptly.

Alice pouted. “Why?” she asked. “Don’t you know there’s a big party tomorrow? There’s going to be dancing and everything! It is going to be such a blast! Couldn’t we leave the day after that?”

I pointed out that she had used that very same excuse last week, the day before the luau. She looked sheepish.

Dinah came to her defense, though. “You’ve never even been to one of Xanthl’s parties. They are loads of fun. You would know if you would just relax and go to any of the stuff he is always planning for us!”

I didn’t know what to say. The girls knew that we needed to get going, so why should I remind them yet another time? Finally I decided to bring up the most important point.

“Girls, you know as well as I do that Xanthl doesn’t seem exactly, well, human,” I said.

Alice sighed. “Aw, come off it,” she said. She turned around to continue folding her laundry.

I insisted. “Aren’t you guys scared at all?” I asked.

“Of Xanthl?” Alice said, incredulously.

Dinah chimed in, “Come on, nobody’s perfect. Although Xanthl does come pretty close. Anyway, I can’t go anywhere until all my laundry is done. I still have two more loads for the cleaning lady to come and pick up. By the time it’s done, it’ll be well past midnight!”

Dinah did have a lot of clothes.

“I’m leaving tonight, whether you girls are coming or not,” I said. I sat down on my bed and tried to come up with a plan. How to get out without being spotted…?

Alice looked my way. “I have laundry to do, too. Can’t you wait until tomorrow?”

“No,” I said firmly. “I’ve waited long enough.” I thought and thought until I had a plan.

* * * *

At 8:30 p.m. I snuck out the back door in my gym shorts and a sweatshirt. I carried my bag. Was Xanthl somehow watching? I couldn’t tell.

Charm or no charm, I was frightened of him by now. He often called people into his office, and those people were never seen again. The others at the resort didn’t seem to notice. Or if they did notice, they seemed to shrug it off. What was it to them that four people had disappeared within the last week?

I made my way along the path. Finally, there it was. The recreation field.

Across the field, in the distance, I could just make out the other hotel. A wire fence divided our back field from theirs. How hard could it be to jump over that little fence?

I began to jog the long way around the field. Tuesday, so everyone was jogging counter-clockwise. I hoped that no one would notice the bag I was carrying, or if they did that they would just think I was weird. I guess I was weird—no one else seemed to want to leave this place as badly as I did.

I kept jogging, just like the rest of the evening runners. I waved at a girl who stayed in the room adjacent to ours.

Finally, I was yards away from the metal fence. I saw to my surprise that there was an opening in it. A regular opening. Easy for anyone to pass through. No lock.

I took a deep breath and made a run for it. With all my strength I covered the distance in seconds, dove through the opening, and landed on my stomach, clutching my bag.

* * * *

A kind-looking man helped me up. “Come with me,” he said. I followed him to the large building, up stairs and into a very beautiful lobby. He knocked on a door and then told me to enter.

Xanthl.

Xanthl was sitting there, his bald head gleaming. “You ran away?” he asked, his voice puzzled.

I gulped with dread. “Y-yes.” I said.

How could I escape? How had he known? What could I do?

“No, I won’t force you to come back,” he said finally. He sounded sad. “But I don’t know why you would want to leave our beautiful home.”

I tried not to be drawn in by his fascinating voice, his charismatic way of speaking. All I could say was, “Thank you, sir.”

“Are you sure you want to leave?” he asked then. “You can come back right now if you want to. You can stay as long as you like; you can even leave whenever you like. I won’t stop you.” He smiled.

I shook my head, holding onto my resolve.

“Are you sure?” he asked again.

I nodded.

He finished with these words: “What you are doing is a mistake. But I can’t stop you.”

And then, he got up and left, closing the door behind him. I breathed a tremendous sigh. I was confused, but relieved.

* * * *

What now? I saw suddenly that there was another person in the room with me. Someone I hadn’t noticed before. Someone even more mesmerizing than Xanthl was.

“Shidnsl is my name,” he said, grinning.

And then, in a heartbeat, in one split second, I knew. I had nothing to fear from Xanthl. I had never had anything to fear from Xanthl. It was this alien who was the real threat.

Shidnsl rubbed his hand over his shiny head and confirmed my thoughts with these simple words: “My brother tries to protect them from me. He sneaks them out when I’m not watching and sends them on their way. It’s too bad you didn’t listen to his warning.”

I was frozen with shock.

“You look delicious,” he added.

Mother, It’s Not Cold

It was a beautiful day. A bit warmer than usual for this time of year, but that made it nicer. And there was Mother with her coat on, stubbornly cold, as usual.

"Mother, it's not cold," I insisted, embarking on yet another iteration of our permanent disagreement.

"Well, it feels cold to me," she answered. "I know how I feel."

"Mother, look at the thermostat, it's seventy-three degrees. That's not cold. Nobody thinks it's cold but you." She pulled her coat about her even tighter as if I hadn't just presented compelling evidence that it truly was warm.



Several weeks later the days had become warmer. The thermostat now read eighty degrees. Mother still had her coat on, and now she sat in the green chair with a blanket around her.

"Mother, how can you be so cold when it's so warm?"

"I know cold when I feel it," she insisted.

"Let me feel your skin." I put my hand on her face. Her skin was cold. "Mother, maybe there's something wrong with you, something wrong with your circulation." I began to worry. At the computer I googled "cold skin" and came up with an alarming list of over sixty possible causes, ranging from anterior pituitary hyperhormonotrophic syndrome to Wernicke's encephalopathy. "Mother, maybe we should get you to a doctor. This could be serious."

"Nonsense," she said. "There's nothing wrong with me. There's something wrong with the temperature, that's all. It's cold."

"No, no," I said. "It's not cold!" I switched to another website on the computer. "Look here, Mother, everyone knows it's warm. Look here, they're saying the whole Earth is now warmer than ever. They're arguing all the time about the cause of this, it's a big issue--"

"Well, we don't have to argue about it," she spoke with finality. "It's cold, that's all." And she went into the other room.


A week later the temperature was in the upper nineties. But when I walked into one of the bedrooms I noticed some new, thick blankets stacked in the corner. That same day a man came with a truck full of wood and stacked it in the backyard. I looked in the closet and discovered new coats made of down, and snow pants, and long underwear.

"Mother, we don't need this stuff, it's hot here, not cold! The thermostat says it's over ninety degrees!"

"I can tell the temperature for myself, just by how it feels," she said. "It's cold."



That night the Earth jolted from its normal pathway around the sun. A shock wave was felt around the whole world, and by morning it was snowing outside. Gaia had played her trick on us all. Except Mother. She knew. Mother was ready.

Education and Creativity

This has long been one of my favorite TED talks. (BTW... if you haven't visited TED before, you should. All sorts of awesome talks on amazing, cutting-edge topics).

This discussion pretty much nails one of the main reasons why I have decided to try homsechooling for my kids.

What do you all think?

Time only is measured unto men

Disclaimer and warning: This is a series of questions about time, but they could all be based on incorrect assumptions. You may also find the ideas convoluted, tedious, obscure or contradictory. I wouldn’t blame you for passing this post up as a waste of time. (But I would read it.)

“Time only is measured unto men.” (Alma 40:8)

a) Does this mean time is in the measuring? If one exercises a measuring (mental or conscious) act, this is time?

b) Does this mean a measurement of time was provided for man in this realm? (See the creation of time, along with everything else, in creation accounts: He called it the first day, etc. Note they use the term, “day;” compare to Alma's use of “day”--all is as one day with God.)

c) Does the use of the word, “unto” mean “directed towards or for the use of” man by God?

d) Does this mean that man naturally experiences or measures time?

e) Does this mean that time exists with the Lord, but is not measured by Him, being eternal or endless in either quantity or quality (whatever that would mean)? (See 1 Cor.13:8,10; for example “But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.”)

f) Does this mean that the “when” of time is a mystery only the Lord knows, and man tries to get at it by a limited act of measuring?

g) Does this act of measuring parallel that of counting, or numbering (Moses 1:35; “But only an account of this earth, and the inhabitants thereof, give I unto you. For behold, there are many worlds that have passed away by the word of my power. And there are many that now stand, and innumerable are they unto man; but all things are numbered unto me, for they are mine and I know them.” Note the use of “unto” in the phrase, “numbered unto,” similar to Alma's use of the phrase, “measured unto.” [Compare also with the idea of counting with Cantor's idea in mathematics of a countable infinite set, versus an uncountable infinite set.] The linguistic expressions, counting, measuring, have implications as we use them, which may reflect our limited human capacities.)

h) Does this refer to the a fundamental distinction of how time relates to the Lord and how it relates to man? Is man's limitation in being captive of time (in a particular manner) a manifestation of his measuring it, the only thing he can seem to do with it?

i) In the atonement, the spiritual effects didn't need to wait for Christ to come and actually perform His role--Adam was baptized and born of the Spirit during his lifetime (Moses 6:64-65). However, the physical effects of resurrection of the body had to wait for Christ's resurrection. Does time, then, relate differently to spiritual versus physical aspects of salvation? (Of course spirit is also physical, but in a refined way.) Would this imply that a property of the spirit world is that there is no time (at least in any sense we know it here)?

j) Finally, here is an idea that contradicts the idea just given in the preceding section (i): Perhaps time universally runs throughout the spirit world and everywhere except where it is transcended by faith. Consider: "Through faith we understand that the worlds were framed by the word of God" (Hebrews 11:3) "It was by faith that the worlds were framed. God spake, chaos heard, and worlds came into order by reason of the faith there was in HIM." (Lectures on Faith 1:22.) How could God exercise faith to create the world, which requires that there is something one does not know or see, if He knows and sees everything, and knows the end from the beginning? Perhaps we should turn the idea around. Instead of asking how God could have faith if He knows and sees all, we could say: God knows and sees all as a result of first having faith. Perhaps faith is what is fundamental, the cause, related to His very nature. God's faith enables Him to know all things, and to know the end from the beginning. Thus, because of His faith, He can transcend time in some way (as well as space). By definition, faith brings about the overcoming of the inability to see. The definition of faith given for man's use is but the tip of the iceberg of knowing the implications of faith. Only a being with sufficient faith can transcend time and space. All others are subject to it and limited by it, and they experience it as the fabric of reality.