Because I'm sick and tired of the way the Halloween season has focused so much on fear (which God has not given us the spirit of, by the way), and because I don't feel the way it is coming to be celebrated is in harmony with Gospel living (well-meaning ward parties notwithstanding), and because my wife agreed with me (the most important of these considerations), I made some moves to change things for my family this year. Yes, our girls went out trick-or-treating to select houses, but that was more an attempt to provide contact with neighbors than anything else. Yes, we went to a couple of parties, but one was a family affair, and the other was for church, neither of which encouraged most of the things I object to most strongly.
Here's what we did. I borrowed a 6x8 rear projection screen and a 5K projector from work, as well as sound system and a few LED theatrical lights. I lit the outside of our home a bit, to create a sort of ethereal - not scary - atmosphere, and set up the screen/sound assembly in our carport. From my laptop, I played older-sounding music, mostly folkish in style, while from a DVD player I looped the simple video below, which depicts some of my ancestors with a message that is much more overbearing than I meant it to be for the simple reason that I didn't have the time to create the other elements of the video. It's nothing fancy, and its not as refined as I would like, but it was done from scratch in my spare time, and after you see it I'll describe what it should have been.
So there it is. I thought it fitting, given the history of the day, to bring in a Gospel-friendly celebration of the dead, including some visual means of introducing them. I only had time to get a few pictures together this year, but I originally intended to include names and brief biographical information on each person, as well as his or her place in the Figueira family tree. All of the faces you'll see are from my side of the family. My wife's ancestors are important, but I didn't have any pictures handy or means of getting them conveniently.
Going forward, I'm going to include the information I mentioned in a more varied visual environment, with any other fun elements I can think of and produce before next year. I would like to point out that I intentionally left out a visual reference to temple work, because I felt it was too overbearing.
One funny story associated with this: my neighbor across the street (who we have a great relationship with, by the way) saw me building the screen in the driveway and got curious. She's a big TV and movie watcher, and we can almost always see her wall-mounted flatscreen shining through the window of her front room. As soon as she saw the telltale blue rectangle of a projector without a signal, she came over to ask what was going on. I was behind the screen, and could hear, but not see her. My oldest daughter quickly answered that daddy was going to show his "Halloween Movie." My neighbor got pretty pumped up, until my wife let her down with a more accurate description of what was going on. I felt a little bad about the misunderstanding, but couldn't help but chuckle to myself.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Missionary Fun
For one reason or another, I've been remembering what is probably my funniest missionary memory. It testifies to the influence of media on childhood, the utter geekiness of the members of my district, and probably many other things. Here it is:
At roughly 6:30 AM on Preparation Day, the district was well into its weekly game of ultimate frisbee. The venue: Hohokam Park in Mesa, AZ. The teams: senior companions vs. junior companions, as usual. Also as usual, somebody threw the frisbee over the fence and into the canal. As the disc landed close enough to shore not to require more spectacular rescue efforts, Elder Taylor went to fetch it alone - although his companion could see him the whole way.
Out of nowhere, Elder Batson, the District Leader, struck a dramatic pose - his feet spread apart, his head back, and his right arm held out in front with clenched fist - and yelled "Earth!"
Not knowing exactly what he was up to, but sensing familiarity and following my instinct, I took my place across from him, imitating his position and shouting spontaneously, "Wind!"
By the time the next Elder roared "Fire!" I was beginning to suspect what was going on. Another missionary joined the growing circle and called out "Water!" But it wasn't until the remaining Elder on the field had cried "Heart!" that I realized where this strange ritual had come from.
As if it had been planned, Elder Taylor, utterly unseen in his approach, triumphantly appeared in the center of the circle, holding the dripping frisbee and declaring, "Your powers combined, I am Captain Planet!"
At roughly 6:30 AM on Preparation Day, the district was well into its weekly game of ultimate frisbee. The venue: Hohokam Park in Mesa, AZ. The teams: senior companions vs. junior companions, as usual. Also as usual, somebody threw the frisbee over the fence and into the canal. As the disc landed close enough to shore not to require more spectacular rescue efforts, Elder Taylor went to fetch it alone - although his companion could see him the whole way.
Out of nowhere, Elder Batson, the District Leader, struck a dramatic pose - his feet spread apart, his head back, and his right arm held out in front with clenched fist - and yelled "Earth!"
Not knowing exactly what he was up to, but sensing familiarity and following my instinct, I took my place across from him, imitating his position and shouting spontaneously, "Wind!"
By the time the next Elder roared "Fire!" I was beginning to suspect what was going on. Another missionary joined the growing circle and called out "Water!" But it wasn't until the remaining Elder on the field had cried "Heart!" that I realized where this strange ritual had come from.
As if it had been planned, Elder Taylor, utterly unseen in his approach, triumphantly appeared in the center of the circle, holding the dripping frisbee and declaring, "Your powers combined, I am Captain Planet!"
Monday, November 2, 2009
A Formula for Love
+
+
=
one romantic evening
+
=one romantic evening
*apologies to Flav-o-Rich, but the actual eggnog consumed was of the Cream o' Weber variety.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Reflections (Preflections?) on Graduation: A Perspective from Just This Side of the "Finish" Line
To expound upon my previous post a bit (as well as for other purposes):
Today began the first week of my last class at the University of Phoenix, where I'm studying for a bachelors degree in Business Management, although the class doesn't actually meet until next Wednesday. The first week's assignments are in force as of today. It goes for five weeks, making my actual liberation date December 2, 2009, never mind the fact that the pomp and circumstance doesn't happen until May.
I've been going to college - with some interruptions - since 2002, just trying to find what I wanted to study and finish a degree in it and I realize more now than ever that Business Management is not what I want to study. I chose the program with that knowledge, and I wasn't wrong. From seventh grade until my second semester at Weber State I wanted to be a high school band teacher. I think my parents were relieved when I finally disabused myself of that notion. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy it or that I didn't do well in the Music Ed. program. Quite the opposite. I just realized that it wasn't what I wanted to devote the rest of my professional life to.
That was a tough realization, and it left me directionless. So naturally, I went in the general direction that my wonderful mother always thought I was more cut out for: mechanical engineering. Once again, I liked the material, I did well (except for needing some catchup work on the math), and I even had a professor who claimed I had a certain rare gift that would make me an outstanding manufacturing engineer, in spite of the fact that I ditched his machining workshop for a week while I was on my honeymoon. But it wasn't my calling. I just somehow knew it.
Having really no idea of where to go this time, I didn't do the sensible thing and just finish my generals. No, I spent the last few weeks of my last semester in the engineering program doing serious soul searching, including lots of scripture (and patriarchal blessing) study, temple attendance, and prayer. On the day when I had to pick my classes or drop out of the next semester, I had the revelation, and it was so beautifully simple and perfect and true to my childhood self that I was overwhelmed by it all, but immediately saw the vision of what I was to become. I'm not ready to put just what that is out in cyberspace yet, so suffice to say that I declared a major in the brand-spanking-new electronic media division of the communications department and picked the courses for a minor in business. I was on my way.
Until the next semester, when my second daughter was born and I got fall-down sick from stress and lack of sleep. My GPA dropped a full half point in that one semester because I missed half my classes and I knew I couldn't go on in this way for long. So I took a year off to get things in order, predicting at the time that the biggest challenge of my life might be keeping the resolution to go back.
When the time came, I needed an option other than Weber with its traditional format and way-out-of-the-way location. I had already seen that I couldn't support a growing family on one income, go to school full time, and maintain my health. So I looked around. I applied at a film school in California, got a strong recommendation from the admissions counselor, but couldn't get the money together and didn't want to be saddled with $250,000 in student debt. That's not an exaggeration, either.
So I looked local. I was considering two options: try for the Media Arts program at the Y, or go for Business at Phoenix. I really wanted the first, but since my other responsibilities would force me to do it on a part time schedule, it would have taken at least six years - or until I was nearly 33. I wasn't sure that I was willing to put my family through that. Phoenix, on the other hand, I could do in the evenings, one class a week, and finish in only 36 months. So in spite of the fact that it was a subject of secondary importance to my plan, and though it caused me no small amount of heartache, it gave me more family time and offered other similar benefits, so that's the way I went. I suppose I'll know someday if I made the right decision, but that day is not today.
One of my goals has always been to have perfect grades - a bar I could never seem to clear in any educational institution since Leo J. Muir Elementary school. I believe that the letter grade is far from the most important part of an education, but perhaps because my siblings all achieved it, I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it.
Now, I've worked my brains out since going back to school, and while I haven't gotten perfect scores on every assignment, I have been done well enough that probably half of my professors felt constrained to pull me aside privately and say that I was doing work that was head and shoulders above the rest of the class. I don't mean to say that out of pride. I've worked with some brilliant classmates and owe much of my success to them. I also haven't always agreed with my professors' evaluations of my work, but as per the most recent update, I have maintained a 4.0 GPA since my first class at Phoenix, and that nice, round number is what graces my official transcript now. I know I haven't arrived yet, but I'm at the point where, even if I fall short in this final course, I think I've satisfied myself. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to work as hard as I can to make it perfect, or that I want my theory on that point tested.
My older brother finished his masters degree years ago and has a meaningful career. My younger brother is in a prestigious law school after finishing his undergraduate and working for quite a while in professional positions. My oldest younger sister has been a graduate for a good amount of time, and my youngest sister will have her graduation ceremony before I have mine.
Many of my friends in my general age range (I'm near the end of my 29th year), particularly some who read this blog (at least I think they still do), have masters degrees, and in some cases either are studying for or have achieved doctorates as well. Others are in the jobs they've always wanted, making enough money, and generally being further along in certain aspects of life than am I. I suspect that a lot of those who knew me growing up would be as surprised to learn that I don't yet have a degree of any kind as they usually are to discover how many children I do have.
I'm occasionally tempted to feel bad about all that; it's so easy to do. Then I remember the main reasons for it, and their names are Noel, Sara, Millie, Jeannie, and Megan, the five most beautiful women I know (with my mom coming in at a tie), though most are still of an age where the term "woman" is a ways off for practical application. If I could have all the education, degrees, and career advancement in the world, but had to put off my relationships with those five incredible beings for even one day, I would take those worldly accolades and shove them down the shredder as fast as it would take them. The last seven years of my life has been hard, but as my sweet wife and I approach our seventh anniversary, I can't help but think that they've been good and, more importantly, they've been right in all the ways that matter most.
Graduation from the University of Phoenix is not going to be the end of my formal education. I am going to take some time off again, though, and give my much neglected family some of the attention they desperately deserve. I'm also going to get some sleep. I don't know when or where I'll pursue the next level, or exactly what form that may level may take. As my classmate Ryan said last night as we discussed our futures, "You don't ask a pregnant woman if she's going to have another baby while she's in the hospital bed."
I just know that I'm grateful for the ride I've had, and I'm ready to tackle this last stretch of road - the last big wave before I get to flop down on the shore with a big thud, a big sigh, and a bigger smile. And then, when it's time, I'll get up.
Today began the first week of my last class at the University of Phoenix, where I'm studying for a bachelors degree in Business Management, although the class doesn't actually meet until next Wednesday. The first week's assignments are in force as of today. It goes for five weeks, making my actual liberation date December 2, 2009, never mind the fact that the pomp and circumstance doesn't happen until May.
I've been going to college - with some interruptions - since 2002, just trying to find what I wanted to study and finish a degree in it and I realize more now than ever that Business Management is not what I want to study. I chose the program with that knowledge, and I wasn't wrong. From seventh grade until my second semester at Weber State I wanted to be a high school band teacher. I think my parents were relieved when I finally disabused myself of that notion. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy it or that I didn't do well in the Music Ed. program. Quite the opposite. I just realized that it wasn't what I wanted to devote the rest of my professional life to.
That was a tough realization, and it left me directionless. So naturally, I went in the general direction that my wonderful mother always thought I was more cut out for: mechanical engineering. Once again, I liked the material, I did well (except for needing some catchup work on the math), and I even had a professor who claimed I had a certain rare gift that would make me an outstanding manufacturing engineer, in spite of the fact that I ditched his machining workshop for a week while I was on my honeymoon. But it wasn't my calling. I just somehow knew it.
Having really no idea of where to go this time, I didn't do the sensible thing and just finish my generals. No, I spent the last few weeks of my last semester in the engineering program doing serious soul searching, including lots of scripture (and patriarchal blessing) study, temple attendance, and prayer. On the day when I had to pick my classes or drop out of the next semester, I had the revelation, and it was so beautifully simple and perfect and true to my childhood self that I was overwhelmed by it all, but immediately saw the vision of what I was to become. I'm not ready to put just what that is out in cyberspace yet, so suffice to say that I declared a major in the brand-spanking-new electronic media division of the communications department and picked the courses for a minor in business. I was on my way.
Until the next semester, when my second daughter was born and I got fall-down sick from stress and lack of sleep. My GPA dropped a full half point in that one semester because I missed half my classes and I knew I couldn't go on in this way for long. So I took a year off to get things in order, predicting at the time that the biggest challenge of my life might be keeping the resolution to go back.
When the time came, I needed an option other than Weber with its traditional format and way-out-of-the-way location. I had already seen that I couldn't support a growing family on one income, go to school full time, and maintain my health. So I looked around. I applied at a film school in California, got a strong recommendation from the admissions counselor, but couldn't get the money together and didn't want to be saddled with $250,000 in student debt. That's not an exaggeration, either.
So I looked local. I was considering two options: try for the Media Arts program at the Y, or go for Business at Phoenix. I really wanted the first, but since my other responsibilities would force me to do it on a part time schedule, it would have taken at least six years - or until I was nearly 33. I wasn't sure that I was willing to put my family through that. Phoenix, on the other hand, I could do in the evenings, one class a week, and finish in only 36 months. So in spite of the fact that it was a subject of secondary importance to my plan, and though it caused me no small amount of heartache, it gave me more family time and offered other similar benefits, so that's the way I went. I suppose I'll know someday if I made the right decision, but that day is not today.
One of my goals has always been to have perfect grades - a bar I could never seem to clear in any educational institution since Leo J. Muir Elementary school. I believe that the letter grade is far from the most important part of an education, but perhaps because my siblings all achieved it, I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it.
Now, I've worked my brains out since going back to school, and while I haven't gotten perfect scores on every assignment, I have been done well enough that probably half of my professors felt constrained to pull me aside privately and say that I was doing work that was head and shoulders above the rest of the class. I don't mean to say that out of pride. I've worked with some brilliant classmates and owe much of my success to them. I also haven't always agreed with my professors' evaluations of my work, but as per the most recent update, I have maintained a 4.0 GPA since my first class at Phoenix, and that nice, round number is what graces my official transcript now. I know I haven't arrived yet, but I'm at the point where, even if I fall short in this final course, I think I've satisfied myself. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to work as hard as I can to make it perfect, or that I want my theory on that point tested.
My older brother finished his masters degree years ago and has a meaningful career. My younger brother is in a prestigious law school after finishing his undergraduate and working for quite a while in professional positions. My oldest younger sister has been a graduate for a good amount of time, and my youngest sister will have her graduation ceremony before I have mine.
Many of my friends in my general age range (I'm near the end of my 29th year), particularly some who read this blog (at least I think they still do), have masters degrees, and in some cases either are studying for or have achieved doctorates as well. Others are in the jobs they've always wanted, making enough money, and generally being further along in certain aspects of life than am I. I suspect that a lot of those who knew me growing up would be as surprised to learn that I don't yet have a degree of any kind as they usually are to discover how many children I do have.
I'm occasionally tempted to feel bad about all that; it's so easy to do. Then I remember the main reasons for it, and their names are Noel, Sara, Millie, Jeannie, and Megan, the five most beautiful women I know (with my mom coming in at a tie), though most are still of an age where the term "woman" is a ways off for practical application. If I could have all the education, degrees, and career advancement in the world, but had to put off my relationships with those five incredible beings for even one day, I would take those worldly accolades and shove them down the shredder as fast as it would take them. The last seven years of my life has been hard, but as my sweet wife and I approach our seventh anniversary, I can't help but think that they've been good and, more importantly, they've been right in all the ways that matter most.
Graduation from the University of Phoenix is not going to be the end of my formal education. I am going to take some time off again, though, and give my much neglected family some of the attention they desperately deserve. I'm also going to get some sleep. I don't know when or where I'll pursue the next level, or exactly what form that may level may take. As my classmate Ryan said last night as we discussed our futures, "You don't ask a pregnant woman if she's going to have another baby while she's in the hospital bed."
I just know that I'm grateful for the ride I've had, and I'm ready to tackle this last stretch of road - the last big wave before I get to flop down on the shore with a big thud, a big sigh, and a bigger smile. And then, when it's time, I'll get up.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Father to Son: Some More Thoughts About Mosiah
In explaining to his people why he's doing away with the monarchy, Mosiah says this:
Now I declare unto you that he to whom the kingdom doth rightly belong has declined, and will not take upon him the kingdom.
And now if there should be another appointed in his stead, behold I fear there would rise contentions among you. And who knoweth but what my son, to whom the kingdom doth belong, should turn to be angry and draw away a part of this people after him, which would cause wars and contentions among you, which would be the cause of shedding much blood and perverting the way of the Lord, yea, and destroy the souls of many people.
Now I say unto you let us be wise and consider these things, for we have no right to destroy my son, neither should we have any right to destroy another if he should be appointed in his stead.
And if my son should turn again to his pride and vain things he would recall the things which he had said, and claim his right to the kingdom, which would cause him and also this people to commit much sin. (Mosiah 29: 6-9)
I wonder about the appropriateness and motivation of bringing up Aaron's past sins (Aaron was the son the people wanted to rule them, and is the object of the allusion "he to whom the kingdom doth rightly belong") in such a public manner. After all, Aaron was one of those with Alma when the angel came to stop them from destroying the church. He was converted miraculously and went on a mission to the Lamanites despite opposition from just about everyone. While there, he suffered imprisonment, abuse, and other privations, but remained faithful. He also saw many of those he helped convert die under the swords of their brethren who hated them for their conversion to the Nephite religion (although I'm pretty sure that didn't happen until after this speech). Does Mosiah honestly question Aaron's integrity or that of his other sons? Does he think they could go back to being sinners as quickly as they came out of it? I doubt it.
Then why bring it up?
Well, for one thing, we're not talking about who gets to have the car next weekend. We're dealing with kingdoms, riches, power, and glory here - some of the very things Satan thought were his best chance at tempting Christ himself to commit sin. The pressures are enormous. Mosiah realizes this as well as anyone, and he knows history. He also knows that there's a difference between not wanting to be king yourself, and wanting someone outside the royal family to take control.
The sons of Mosiah would have made good kings precisely because they were righteous and could not be shaken from their righteousness. But if someone other than a legal heir was to receive the kingdom, those sons might have a tinge of worry at how things would be handled. That would open the door to pride, which would suggest that the best way to keep the kingdom safe is to have it ruled by a righteous king (a truth, by the way). And perhaps my calling, Aaron thinks, is to deny my desires and take the kingdom anyway, as a longsuffering righteous king like my father! Wouldn't that be better than letting a person of questionable character with no background experience take the throne? I'm used to this pressure after all, but he's not! I wouldn't want to let him destroy himself by getting carried away with his power! I love him too much!
You can see how easy this might be.
So Mosiah recognizes the humanity of his sons and the fact that they are still susceptible to temptation. He doesn't think they'll fall away, though. In fact, he's been promised that they won't (see Mosiah 28:7).
No, he uses the hypothetical case of his son returning to sin as an object lesson. He shows the people what could happen. It's all a part of his dissertation on the trials and troubles of a righteous king vs. the people's injury under a wicked one. But does that make it right? Doesn't he basically call his son's character into question in front of his entire kingdom? Isn't he setting his son up as a potential threat to the peace of the people - an unknown quantity? Aaron's not even there to defend himself! What kind of father would do that?
Apparently, the honest kind. And I don't think Aaron would have defended himself, because he would have seen no attack. He didn't have any pride to be wounded. He probably would have nodded his head and said, "Dad's right. If I lose my way again there's no telling what I'd do." He'd recognize his own weakness and probably use his father's statement as a reminder to keep himself in the right path.
So am I saying that what looks on the surface to be a father to son insult is really proof of their mutual understanding of each other - evidence that they both love the truth and have integrated it tightly into their relationship? I think I might be. Weird.
Now I declare unto you that he to whom the kingdom doth rightly belong has declined, and will not take upon him the kingdom.
And now if there should be another appointed in his stead, behold I fear there would rise contentions among you. And who knoweth but what my son, to whom the kingdom doth belong, should turn to be angry and draw away a part of this people after him, which would cause wars and contentions among you, which would be the cause of shedding much blood and perverting the way of the Lord, yea, and destroy the souls of many people.
Now I say unto you let us be wise and consider these things, for we have no right to destroy my son, neither should we have any right to destroy another if he should be appointed in his stead.
And if my son should turn again to his pride and vain things he would recall the things which he had said, and claim his right to the kingdom, which would cause him and also this people to commit much sin.
I wonder about the appropriateness and motivation of bringing up Aaron's past sins (Aaron was the son the people wanted to rule them, and is the object of the allusion "he to whom the kingdom doth rightly belong") in such a public manner. After all, Aaron was one of those with Alma when the angel came to stop them from destroying the church. He was converted miraculously and went on a mission to the Lamanites despite opposition from just about everyone. While there, he suffered imprisonment, abuse, and other privations, but remained faithful. He also saw many of those he helped convert die under the swords of their brethren who hated them for their conversion to the Nephite religion (although I'm pretty sure that didn't happen until after this speech). Does Mosiah honestly question Aaron's integrity or that of his other sons? Does he think they could go back to being sinners as quickly as they came out of it? I doubt it.
Then why bring it up?
Well, for one thing, we're not talking about who gets to have the car next weekend. We're dealing with kingdoms, riches, power, and glory here - some of the very things Satan thought were his best chance at tempting Christ himself to commit sin. The pressures are enormous. Mosiah realizes this as well as anyone, and he knows history. He also knows that there's a difference between not wanting to be king yourself, and wanting someone outside the royal family to take control.
The sons of Mosiah would have made good kings precisely because they were righteous and could not be shaken from their righteousness. But if someone other than a legal heir was to receive the kingdom, those sons might have a tinge of worry at how things would be handled. That would open the door to pride, which would suggest that the best way to keep the kingdom safe is to have it ruled by a righteous king (a truth, by the way). And perhaps my calling, Aaron thinks, is to deny my desires and take the kingdom anyway, as a longsuffering righteous king like my father! Wouldn't that be better than letting a person of questionable character with no background experience take the throne? I'm used to this pressure after all, but he's not! I wouldn't want to let him destroy himself by getting carried away with his power! I love him too much!
You can see how easy this might be.
So Mosiah recognizes the humanity of his sons and the fact that they are still susceptible to temptation. He doesn't think they'll fall away, though. In fact, he's been promised that they won't (see Mosiah 28:7).
No, he uses the hypothetical case of his son returning to sin as an object lesson. He shows the people what could happen. It's all a part of his dissertation on the trials and troubles of a righteous king vs. the people's injury under a wicked one. But does that make it right? Doesn't he basically call his son's character into question in front of his entire kingdom? Isn't he setting his son up as a potential threat to the peace of the people - an unknown quantity? Aaron's not even there to defend himself! What kind of father would do that?
Apparently, the honest kind. And I don't think Aaron would have defended himself, because he would have seen no attack. He didn't have any pride to be wounded. He probably would have nodded his head and said, "Dad's right. If I lose my way again there's no telling what I'd do." He'd recognize his own weakness and probably use his father's statement as a reminder to keep himself in the right path.
So am I saying that what looks on the surface to be a father to son insult is really proof of their mutual understanding of each other - evidence that they both love the truth and have integrated it tightly into their relationship? I think I might be. Weird.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
A Definition of Wisdom
King Mosiah is dying. None of his sons want the kingdom. He remembers (I'm sure) these words of Nephi:
And it came to pass that they would that I should be their king. But I, Nephi, was desirous that they should have no king; nevertheless, I did for them according to that which was in my power.
(2 Ne. 5:18)
Mosiah knows that it is not good to esteem one flesh above another. So instead of a problem, he sees an opportunity: get rid of the kingdom altogether. Establish judges, like in ancient Israel. Let the people be self-governing. Let them collectively determine their future as a people. Can individuals still have influence? Sure. But can any individual have too much power? Or too much accountability? Not if things work the right way. That's the point. I wonder sometimes how long the Nephites would have lasted if they'd stuck with a monarchy.
Anyway, Mosiah speaks to his people. He tells them what he intends to do. It's sort of ironic that he has to command them, as a king, not to have any more kings. He couldn't have gotten away with that if he'd been less of a man. In doing so, he gives us a definition of wisdom that is among the most useful I know:
And now let us be wise and look forward to these things, and do that which will make for the peace of this people.
(Mosiah 29:10)
And it came to pass that they would that I should be their king. But I, Nephi, was desirous that they should have no king; nevertheless, I did for them according to that which was in my power.
(2 Ne. 5:18)
Mosiah knows that it is not good to esteem one flesh above another. So instead of a problem, he sees an opportunity: get rid of the kingdom altogether. Establish judges, like in ancient Israel. Let the people be self-governing. Let them collectively determine their future as a people. Can individuals still have influence? Sure. But can any individual have too much power? Or too much accountability? Not if things work the right way. That's the point. I wonder sometimes how long the Nephites would have lasted if they'd stuck with a monarchy.
Anyway, Mosiah speaks to his people. He tells them what he intends to do. It's sort of ironic that he has to command them, as a king, not to have any more kings. He couldn't have gotten away with that if he'd been less of a man. In doing so, he gives us a definition of wisdom that is among the most useful I know:
And now let us be wise and look forward to these things, and do that which will make for the peace of this people.
(Mosiah 29:10)
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