Free Fall

Yesterday I took off in a small, 8-man airplane, ascended to 13,500 feet, and jumped out. After 60 seconds of free fall the parachute deployed, and I glided down for a smooth landing next to the small airport we left from.

I've been thinking about free fall since then. There literally are not words to describe what it feels like, falling from the height of mountains (actually, the exact same height as King's Peak, the tallest mountain in Utah), watching the patchwork of farmland below spin and slide, ears popping as my body accelerated to 120 mph, shouting into the wind and having my words snatched away before they even made it to my ears. There's no way to describe standing at the open door of an airplane and then insanely choosing to jump out. Every other thrilling experience, from roller coasters to rappelling down mountains, is just trying to come close to free fall. Free fall is the apex of thrill, the highest height, the most extreme extremeness.

It was so intense that my memory of it feels surreal, like it might have been a dream, or a parallel universe, or another life. The feelings I felt didn't seem to be part of this world. In a way it felt like it happened years and years ago, rather than just yesterday. Like a photograph of the sun has too much light and appears blurred and washed out, the stimuli were so powerful that my mind couldn't take it all in, and my memories are fuzzy.

And yet, I am absolutely certain that it happened. I am convinced that I jumped out of an airplane and fell at 120 mph. Even though I have trouble describing it, it really happened. Even if I never go skydiving again, even if I have to rely on memory until I am old and grey, I will remember that I jumped.

I've had other experiences in my life that are hard to describe. I've felt things while praying to my Heavenly Father that I have trouble explaining with words, things that don't really fit into the narrative of normal life, things so powerful that the memory of them feels strange and wonderful and a little surreal. My experiences after praying to ask if the Book of Mormon was true were like that. Same with praying to know if God is real, and if He loves me

But even if people question my experiences because they fall outside of the normal range of human experiences, or because I can't describe them in the same way I do scientific experiments, they were real. They happened. Even if years go by before something like that happens again, I can remember those experiences and hold onto them.

My Magic Ring

Note: This post has nothing to do with Gollum. I just felt like referencing LotR.

When I was in middle school, I developed a fascination with mood rings (it probably had something to do with this song by my favorite band). I bought a couple, but got over it after a year. I haven't worn a ring now in about ten years.

A few days ago, I was thinking about some problems in my life, and how I felt I was in a slump. I decided that the single best thing I could do to de-slump myself was to get closer to God.

At the beginning of the week my mom and I were talking about habits, and she mentioned that tiny habits can have huge impacts. I started thinking about small habits that could help me draw closer to God, feel better, de-slump.

Friday morning, I got out one of my old mood rings and put it on my pinky (it didn't fit on any of my other fingers). Every time I noticed it or remembered it I said a prayer. Because I hadn't worn a ring in years, it happened every five minutes.

It. Was. Awesome. The first half of the day was just kind of nice, in a non-glamorous but happy way; I just felt better. During the second half of the day I ran into 4 old friends while walking across campus; I had a delightful time catching up with them all. That evening I went to the temple, and had the best temple trip I can remember in about a year.

It was neat how good I felt after praying more; it was also incredible how easily wearing an old mood ring helped me pray more.

Conference Thoughts

A few of my thoughts from this last General Conference.

First, President Monson's talks from both the Priesthood and Sunday Morning sessions reminded me of something Elder Bednar shared last conference in his talk "Chosen to Bear Testimony of My Name." Elder Bednar related that "When you cannot do what you have always done, then you only do what matters most."

President Monson might no longer have the strength to speak for 20 minutes (although luckily for us, we can still go back and watch all the times when he did), so he condenses his powerful, life-changing messages down to 3 minutes. At least for me, these 3 minute talks were just as powerful and life-changing as ever. On Saturday night I learned that the Priesthood is Power, real, powerful power, and that wherever I go, my priesthood goes with me; today I learned that my choices determine my future. All in just a few minutes.

The second point that I'd consider life-changing came from President Uchtdorf, who shared a German phrase that translated to "There is nothing good unless you do it." Or in other words, our faith must change the way that we live. If our beliefs do not influence our daily decisions, it isn't really faith. This phrase was the highlight of conference for me personally.

The last point that really hit me came in Elder Kearon's talk about refugees. He talked a bit about the situation of the 60 million refugees currently seeking help across the world, and then talked about how the LDS church was, not too long ago, composed of refugees fleeing persecution. He also said that the Savior Himself was a refugee when He fled from Harod's maniacal purge into Egypt. He invited us to "stake a stand against intolerance," and to reach out in service to all of these children of God.

After Elder Kearon left the pulpit, President Uchtdorf stepped up to announce the next speaker. He had tears is his eyes. President Uchtdorf, who never cries even while bearing beautiful spirit-filled testimony, had tears in his eyes. I believe he cried because he, too, knew what it was like to be a refugee.

What a great conference. The best part is, the next one is only six months away.

Comparative Religion, Holy Envy, and Mazdas.

This semester I’m taking a World Religions class. I have several goals in this class—to understand people that I’ve never met, to adopt customs that will help me be more faithful in my own religion, and to learn about God by learning how other people know Him.

My first goal, and the reason I decided to take the class, came from a show I heard on NPR a couple months ago. A reporter was talking to a young man from Jordan; she asked him what he thought the most important subject for college students to take was, to which he replied, “Comparative Religion, because if we don’t understand each other how will we ever stop killing each other?” Having grown up in a multi-generational LDS (Mormon) family and having served my mission in heavily Catholic and Evangelical Chile, I don’t know very much at all about Islam or Asian religions—religions that more than half of the people on the earth profess. I hope that, having learned more about their religions and ways of thinking, I can understand them and love them just like I do Jews, Mormons, and other Christians.

My second goal came from my professor’s opening lecture. He introduced the concept of “Holy Envy,” which is when you see something in another religion that you wish your religion had. I decided to try to get Holy Envy about everything I possibly could. So far, I’ve decided to adopt:

• The Jewish Mezuzah. Jews place a little box on their door frames that reminds them to think of God whenever they go or come. I’m getting one.
• Ahisma, An Indian concept (found in Buddhism, Hinduism, and especially Jainism) of not causing hisma, or harm, to anyone or anything. I think I’ve been a proponent of ahisma for as long as I can remember, but it’s cool to put a name to the concept.
• Wu-wei, from Taoism (a Chinese religion). Wu-wei means inaction, and stems from a belief that the best way to get something to happen is to let it happen by itself without any intervention. I don’t think I’ll entirely adopt this concept, but I definitely want to become better at patiently waiting for God’s work to come forth without getting frustrated or anxious about it; also, I want to be better at letting other people change in that miraculous way that change happens, between God and them, without feeling like I have to get involved in the process.

My last goal kind of just sprang into existence one day while we were talking about Zoroastrianism, and the Zoroastrian God Ahura Mazda (Lord of Wisdom). Zoroastrians appreciate fire as a symbol of Ahura Mazda, and the car brand Mazda was also probably named after Ahura Mazda. I was thinking about how neat it is to associate fire with God, and about how I’d love to think that the Mazda 626 I drive is named after God (isn’t that cool symbolism? God moves me, and I hardly get anywhere in life except with God’s power). So I decided to just adopt both of those things—whenever I see the gentle flicker of a candle or the roar of a bonfire I’ll think about God’s love and power, and I’ll thank Him for moving me every time I get in my car.


My beautiful Mazda Ronnie in one of my proudest moments, parallel parked with 6 inches on either side.

Pagan Christmas?

This morning while running I listened to a podcast about the history of Rome. The podcast's Christmas special (yeah, I know, Christmas in August--bear with me) explained how the date we use to celebrate Christmas probably stemmed from the pagan celebration of Sol Invictus, or the unconquered sun. The celebration recognized that, after months and months of shrinking days and growing nights, the light was finally going to push back the darkness.

I've sometimes wondered about our decision to celebrate Christmas on December 25th, which really wasn't the day that Christ was born. However, I today I decided that I'm okay with it. Even if it isn't Jesus's literal birthday, the symbolism is stirring. The coming of the sun, or of the Son, will push back the darkness and save us from the bitter cold.

He is risen! He is risen!

He hath opened heaven's gate.

We are free from sin's dark prison,

Risen to a holier state.

Sources:
Mike Duncan, "The History of Rome Christmas." http://thehistoryofrome.typepad.com/the_history_of_rome/2008/11/18-a-history-of-rome-christmas.html
"He Is Risen!" LDS Hymns No. 199.

Clouds and Stars

A few days ago, I looked up at the night sky and had my breath taken away by the hundreds of stars that, even from the center of the city I live in, I could see.

Photo cred--Hubble Space Telescope

Today, the sky is so cloudy and grey that at times I can't even make out the mountains only a few miles away. Seeing stars would be completely impossible; looking up at the mass of grey, I could make myself imagine that there are no stars.

At times, I feel like I am able to look up into heaven and see God's promises for me shining as clearly as the stars. I am able to feel the peace of His assurances, and know with an eternal perspective that everything really will work out alright. Those are beautiful, sacred moments which I treasure.

At other times, as much as I strive to feel the way I do in those precious moments, all I can see is a wall of clouds a mile thick. If I let myself, I could start thinking that I had imagined those sweet assurances.

Metaphorically speaking, then, do the stars stop shining when I can't see them? When my temporal, earthly viewpoint isn't a good enough vantage to enjoy their light, are they still there?

I think the answer is yes. No amount of fog, smog, or anything else that might cover the sky could possibly dim the light of those fiery giants burning billions of miles away, unaffected by any of this world's climate changes and weather patterns.

In much the same way, no amount of worldly confusion or uncertainty could ever affect the promises God has made. The stars cannot be dimmed; their creator is even more sure.

Sister Missionaries and Dating Decisions--My Story

This article was inspired by two things. First, a great blog post about the decision for sisters to serve a mission or not that you can read here. Second, a conference talk by Elder Cook that mentions being authentic and admitting your faults online. You can read that one right here.

A while ago, shortly after getting home from my two-year mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints in Chile, I was talking to my older sister about my dating life. I mentioned that I had some interest in a certain girl. We had been on several dates, and I saw potential in our relationship. However, I had one concern, which I expressed to my sister: “Maybe,” I said, “I shouldn’t date at all right now, when the only girls around are the ones who stayed behind from missions. Maybe I should wait until the wave of missionaries gets home so that I can date and marry a Returned Missionary. That way I can be sure she’s really a good girl.”

My comment was motivated by my own extreme love for my mission. My mission was invaluable to me—it changed me for the better, and still, to this day, I thank God every day for the privilege he gave me of serving.

Luckily for me, my sister wasted no time at all in slapping some sense into me. Once the physical abuse was over*, she said something I’ve never forgotten. “Jason, it doesn’t matter if a girl has served a mission or not. It matters if a girl is following God’s plan for her. That’s what you should care about.”

She then went on to point out that not only had she not served a mission, but my mother hadn’t either. As I thought about what a fantastic mother mine was, and what a great wife she was to my dad, and what a great woman she was in general, I began to understand. As I thought about the intense, deep relationship that my sister has with her Savior, about the many times her testimony and habits had strengthened and improved mine, I understood a little bit more. And as I thought about other women in my life who I looked up to, including a close cousin and a seminary teacher, to name a few, I finally got it.

God matters. Missions, in and of themselves, don’t. Missions only matter when God says they matter—He is the one who gives them power and importance. And God, speaking through his prophet, President Thomas S. Monson,has said, “We affirm that missionary work is a priesthood duty—and we encourage all young men who are worthy and who are physically able and mentally capable to respond to the call to serve. Many young women also serve, but they are not under the same mandate to serve as are the young men. We assure the young sisters of the Church, however, that they make a valuable contribution as missionaries, and we welcome their service.”

Once I accepted that not every girl I knew was under orders from God to serve a mission, I became incredibly interested in learning about individual girls’ experiences in deciding if they should go. As I listened to the stories of my friends who had stayed home, I was impressed by their maturity and spirituality. Without exception, they spoke of periods of prayer, scripture study, and temple attendance before accepting that it was not God’s will for them to go on a mission. Some of them even mentioned how disappointed they were that God didn’t want them to go, and how they begged and pleaded to be allowed to before humbly accepting God’s personal commands. I felt chastened as I considered that every time I criticized a girl for choosing not to serve a mission, I was pridefully acting like my will was more important than God’s. 

I also began to ask my friends in the mission field, and returned sister missionaries for their stories. Their stories, too, involved prayer, scripture study, and temple attendance, and culminated either in a feeling of acceptance with their decision to serve a mission or in an unmistakable feeling that God wanted them to serve. As I listened to all of these stories, my respect for women in general grew.

In the end, then, I decided I did not need to date only Returned Missionaries. Instead, I have decided that the most important characteristic of the girls I date is that they love God above all else, and are actively trying to seek out and follow His will. I will respect and admire them whether they have served a mission or not.

*Because this is the internet, I feel duty-bound to point out that this was a sarcastic statement, and the only physical abuse my sister has ever inflicted on me was feeding me so much that I felt like I might explode.