The Mormon Monk

One of my favorite stops in touring Israel was at the Sea of Galilee. It was tremendously windy; the branches of this tree were in constant motion, and the lake itself had whitecaps on it even though it was a beautiful day (the shoreline that you see in the background looks like a natural amphitheater facing the lake; it's the location in which Christ would have taught and then fed the five thousand). It was easy to imagine a storm descending out of nowhere and then dying away just as quickly--with the wind, as it were. We got to take a boat ride across the lake, and that was wonderful; I even got to walk on the water! Dinner was another treat; I got the same meal (mostly) that the five thousand enjoyed--loaves and fishes. Yum! More soon...

We'll get back to the Jerusalem posts soon--there are some dynamite pictures coming. For now, though, I just couldn't resist... One of the reasons I love my work so much is because it often gives me the opportunity to read and learn about things that I am interested in but that would otherwise be neglected. As I was reading the Humble Inquiry (1749) of Jonathan Edwards while doing research for the second chapter of my dissertation, I stumbled across the following thought-provoking quote: "...that [the Israelites vocally renewed their covenant] before they partook of the Passover (which indeed was one of their sacrifices) or entered into the sanctuary for communion in the temple worship, is confirmed by the words of Hezekiah when he proclaimed a Passover, II Chron. 30:8, 'Now be ye not stiffnecked as your fathers were; but yield yourselves unto the Lord' (in the Hebrew, 'give the hand to the Lord') 'and enter into his sanctuary which he hath sanctified

As a monk, I felt it my duty, when the opportunity presented itself, to make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. I've spent the last five days at an academic conference on Herman Melville's epic poem, Clarel . I loved it--by far the best conference I've ever been to, and that's before I account for the venue. After a tour of Galilee, Haifa, and northern Israel tomorrow, I will return on a red-eye Tuesday night. I'll provide a visual look at the splendors of Israel in the days to come. The first stop we made was at the Dome of the Rock. We entered the old city portion of Jerusalem via the Lion's Gate. The Dome of the Rock is built on the top of Mount Moriah, where Abraham sacrificed Isaac (or Ishmael, if you're Muslim), and where Solomon's temple was built. Muslims revere the spot as the location from which the prophet Muhammad ascended to heaven one night. It is, I believe, the second holiest site of all Islam. The Golden Gate is the only gate that opens directly

The following is long--even for me. I was asked to give an hour-long fireside on the Atonement (every speaker's dream!); this is what I said: Brothers and Sisters, I speak to you tonight by invitation. Sister Shojinaga has asked me to speak to you about the Atonement of our Redeemer, the Lord Jesus Christ, but my invitation is also from the Book of Mormon prophet Jacob, who asks me—and you—a question: “why not speak of the atonement of Christ, and attain to a perfect knowledge of him?” In a world where we say so much about so many other less important topics, I fear that Jacob’s words will be something of an accusation against us at the judgment day unless we improve our time now. As I speak, then, I pray for the guidance of the Holy Ghost and invite each of you to open your hearts to His promptings because I know that if you do so, He will teach you, even if I do not. In humility, I would invite those of you who have access to paper and pen to take those items out, because as we

I know Mother's Day was almost a month ago--but there is something that I wanted to say that didn't quite fit into my discussion and defense of Eve. My observation is simply this: mothers have an opportunity that is rarely offered to anyone else. They have the privilege of bringing about the salvation of others through vicarious suffering. Your salvation, my salvation, is not possible without a physical body, and we are allowed to inhabit a physical body only because our mothers voluntarily suffered on our behalf--they suffer nine months of intense physical discomfort and nausea, then literally pass through the valley of the shadow of death in labor and delivery. Childbearing is, in my opinion, the nearest that any mortal ever gets to walking in the Savior's footsteps from Gethsemane to Calvary, and I am particularly mindful of that special relationship now, as my own wife and my sister Becky--whose visits to the valley of the shadow of death are longer and more frightening