Will a Cup of Coffee Keep Me Out of Heaven?

Members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Mormons) are pretty well known for abstaining from the use of tobacco, alcohol, coffee, and tea. This practice stems from a health law commonly known today as “The Word of Wisdom”, a revelation received by the first prophet of the Church, Joseph Smith. This revelation contains both prohibitions of those substances, and encouragement to eat certain other foods, along with other health principles. It was published at a time when much less was known about the ill effects of tobacco in particular, and nutrition in general, than we know today.

Today there is little debate about the bad things tobacco does to the human body. However, people learning about the Church often find other parts of The Word of Wisdom as odd, or at least overly restrictive. Many would question whether occasional or recreational imbibing of alcohol, coffee, or tea really has any harmful effects.

While I strongly object to the use of alcohol in any amount (based in large measure upon the very destructive effects it had on my parents’ marriage), I understand the questioning one may have of any scientific basis for not partaking of these things in any amount. I guess for me, it has come down to more of a question of whether I believe the Lord has really advised us to not drink these things, for whatever reasons or purposes He may have. Like so many aspects of the gospel, one reaches a point where science and reason are insufficient to satisfy all inquiries. They have simply not advanced enough to prove all spiritual principles. That doesn’t in any way invalidate the principles, it just leaves us searching for another way to satisfy our questions, our spiritual longings to know more.

I would like to tell you a story that illustrates the point. This story is true, but names have been substituted out of respect for family members.

While serving in the capacity of a part-time missionary leader, Sister Carter caught me at church one day and mentioned that we (the part-time and full-time missionaries) should go visit Harold Brown. Harold was married to a member of the church, and had children who were members of the church, but he had never been baptized himself. He had been in poor health in the last few months, and had recently gotten out of the hospital. Sister Carter knew Harold and having recently visited him, felt that Harold might be receptive to the gospel message.

Before I could mention to the full-time missionaries that Harold would be a good person for us to call on, they had on their own already contacted him, just in the normal course of their work of calling on families of the church. While I wondered to myself if this wasn’t more than just coincidence, I encouraged them to continue visiting and to let me know if I could be of assistance. After just a few weeks of the missionaries telling me of their visits with Harold, which had seemed to be going very well, they then told me that they needed my help. They told me that Harold had just experienced a miracle in his life, and yet he had a problem with committing to live the commandments of the Word of Wisdom. They told me that he had an engineering background, and was extremely logical and calculating. Since I also had an engineering degree, the missionaries thought perhaps we could “speak the same language” and develop a rapport that could help break through the log jam they had recently encountered. We set a time for me to go with them to visit Harold.

When the appointed hour arrived, we knocked on Harold’s door, and were invited in by a gracious wife. Harold sat in an easy chair with his cane on the floor beside him. He apologized for not getting up, but he was not feeling well. We exchanged pleasantries, and I asked Harold to tell me a little about the experience (a true miracle) he had had while in the hospital.

Harold began by telling me that he has been agnostic all his life. He believed that the Church taught some fine principles, but he was never convinced that God existed. He had supported his children in things like missions and temple marriages and so on, but it was just never enough for him to be baptized, because he simply didn’t have the evidence he needed to know that the Church was true.

So, life was good for Harold and Bea Brown, but they never talked religion. He ruled his house, and made it clear that he was not to be pestered about things in which he did not believe. Then one day, Harold suffered a stroke. It left him with some impairments, including loss of memory and loss of function of some of his body. Slowly, his memory was returning, but it was far from what it had been. He was very weak, and suffered from a variety of ailments, which at one point put him back in the hospital. Harold suffered from an un-diagnosed condition which was causing him great physical pain--to the point that he began to want to die, so great was his suffering. However, death did not occur, but rather he just continued to be in pain to the point where he stayed heavily sedated constantly. Life had become miserable for Harold.

It was at this point that one of Harold’s daughters came to visit him in the hospital, and she discussed religion with him. She talked about the reality of God and His great healing power. After she left, Harold pondered what she had said. He had never prayed before, but felt there wasn’t much to lose at this point. Harold told me that he said a prayer, and asked God to show him a sign, if in fact He really existed. Harold was specific; he wanted a nurse to come in and turn off a light that was over his bed; if this happened, he would take this as a sign that God existed, and heard his prayer.

It happened. Within just a few minutes, a nurse came in and turned out Harold’s light. And then, if that weren’t enough, Harold awoke the next morning with no pain. Totally, one-hundred percent, Harold’s pain was gone. A great miracle had just occurred, and Harold knew that God had heard and answered his prayer. He was released from the hospital, not without infirmities, but without the pain that was previously causing him to wish for death. Because of this miracle, Harold was willing--even anxious--to learn about the Church and the gospel of Jesus Christ, with a perspective he had never had before.

It was just at this time that the missionaries knocked at Harold’s door, seemingly by chance, adding even more evidence to the possibility that the Lord’s hand was in what was happening to Harold.

So, as the missionaries began teaching the precepts of the gospel, what they taught sounded good, even though Harold wasn’t making any commitments. He was listening to the Book of Mormon on audiotape, and he was certainly thinking deeply about the things he was being taught. However, as the days and weeks passed, he began to question whether it was possible for the nurse to have turned out his light just by a coincidence. He wasn’t sure, but he told himself that while the probability of this being coincidence was small, it still could have just happened without intervention from God. He still had no explanation, though, for the relief from his pain.

The discussion then came to the Word of Wisdom. The missionaries taught that the Lord had commanded us to abstain from taking harmful substances into our bodies, including alcohol, tobacco, coffee, tea, and so on. When the missionaries asked Harold if he would commit to abstaining from these harmful substances, he refused to commit himself, without really any good reason. And so, this was the point at which I had been invited to participate, with a standoff between Harold and the missionaries, neither knowing just where to go from there.

Harold and I seemed to be at ease with each other. We communicated very well, not so much because of engineering backgrounds, but frankly, I just liked him and I think he liked me. So, I bluntly asked him what the problem was. He told me that he drank coffee only once or twice a year, so giving it up was not a problem for him. In fact, it was no big deal. But no youngster or anyone else was going to tell him what he could and couldn’t do. Harold was full of pride and independence; he was his own man. It could be that he would never touch coffee again, he said, but he just hadn’t made up his mind, and certainly wasn’t going to commit to the missionaries to never drink it again.

We talked for some time about this and other subjects. There seemed to be no other obstacles or objections for Harold, other than that infrequent cup of coffee. While I made several attempts at analyzing the situation with Harold, I couldn’t relieve the requirement to commit to living this principle of the gospel. We talked about how it was God’s commandment, not man’s, and how the commitment he had to make was to God and himself, not to a missionary. We talked about how other commandments would probably be much harder for him to live than this one, and yet he was willing to commit to those. I bore my personal testimony on the subject, and made several return visits to see if Harold had a change of heart. I am sad to say that not only did Harold never change his mind, I in fact began to see a regression in his spirituality. He became rather certain that the nurse turning off his light that night in the hospital was just a coincidence, and his remission from his painful condition could, too, have just been something that happened to him as it has happened to others, without any spiritual significance.

Today, Bea goes to church by herself, while Harold sits at home in his easy chair, again suffering from his infirmities, with no faith in the salvation available to him through the grace and power of Jesus Christ. My perspective is that in this case, a cup of coffee is preventing Harold from receiving the saving ordinances of the gospel. Until he has a change of heart and accepts all the commandements in their entirety, failure to live this one "small" commandment prevents Harold from being baptized for a remission of his sins. And because "no unclean thing" can enter into the kingdom of heaven, Harold will not enjoy being with his family eternally, in the presence of the Lord. Oh, what a terrible price to pay, just to be able to drink an occasional cup of coffee.

Your Best Questions, My Best Answers

For a number of years, I have had the thought that it would be very satisfying to publish a book, on the subject of the really good questions I have received about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and my answers to those questions. However, I have realized I just don't have time to do a book right now, and beyond that, it would really be more of a "booklet" than a book--and probably not much of an audience these days for booklets. But recently I had the idea that maybe I could use this blog to get started. So if you have any comments or suggestions, I would really appreciate the feedback--you can be my editors and critics! Here are some of the questions I intend to address:

Tithing? Did You Say Ten Percent of My Income?
Why Aren't Women Equal to Men?
Why Do You Worship Adam and Other Gods?
Priesthood Authority? Who Needs That?
Why Don't You Believe The Bible?
How Many Wives Do You Have?
Why Can't You Just Accept The Saving Grace of Christ?
Will a Cup of Coffee Keep Me Out of Heaven?
Why Do You Call Joseph Smith a Prophet?
Why Would a Loving God Send His Children to Hell, Forever?
Why Doesn't God Intervene and Stop All These Bad Things?

So, that's my list. And if you think I've missed a really good one, I'd like to hear that, too. I'm thinking I'll probably post 1 or 2 a week, with the first one later this weekend.

Me and Wii and Sarah Make Three

So Sarah moved the "Wii" from the basement to the family room tonight. She set it up (she's a real gearhead!) and then turned it on. She got this little game going and got me to play with her. It looked really simple. All you had to do was "push a button" when the little bell of a certain color moved across the screen. She had the 'P1' controller and apparently I had 'P2'. We go through the song "Do Re Mi" and music is playing but I can't tell if I'm doing well or not. Then the song is over and the score pops up. Sarah 96, Dad 0. Zero? Huh? Ok, which button am I supposed to be pushing? I don't have a 'B' button. No, 1 and 2 buttons don't work either. What do you mean I have to hold it like a violin? On and on it went, Sarah giving me instructions that didn't work, while she continued to rack up the points. Oh, this is really fun.... So I told Sarah not to touch a button while I figured this out. When she did nothing, I was able to beat her 24 to nothing. That wasn't much fun either, so I bagged it for the night. Then she told me that I was the DARK blue bells, not the light. Since I'm partially color blind I wasn't even seeing there was both dark and light colored bells! And then she said the dark ones were all on the same line! And she wrapped up by letting me know I had the controller and the nunchuck in the wrong hands.

I would tell Sarah I am mad at her for not telling me all the rules and tricks, but she is laughing so hard she wouldn't hear me anyway. And besides, she gets this sense of humor from me.

Judge Judy She Ain't

So, how do you feel about Sonia Sotomayor? I'm not at all sure myself. I know so very little about her, it's really hard to form an opinion or make a judgment as to how qualified she is or how well she would serve as a Supreme Court Justice.

But I really resent the way liberals are running this campaign (and make no mistake about it, this is very much a campaign) to influence me and more importantly those who represent me, politically. There is a magnificently orchestrated blitzkrieg of media hype being poured out and onto the American public, which to me is silly and offensive.

In addition to all the typical "news" stories ("news" is in quotes because it is really a euphemism for pre-printed, totally biased monologues written by people trained in advertising, not journalism), we are being fed a diet of praise, glory and honor for Ms. Sotomayor by people like Harry Reid. You know, the Democratic Senate Majority Leader? After singing her praises, telling us how qualified she is, Mr. Reid admits he has not read one single opinion written by Judge Sotomayor. And he doesn't intend to! How lame is that?

And then there's the really ignorant media attempt at using mass reverse psychology on us. Practically moments after the nomination is announced, news stories started popping up saying things like "maybe this isn't the person liberals want"--an overt attempt to make conservatives (like me) think "oh, if the liberals Don't want her, maybe we Do!". Come on you guys, you have to do better than that.

I'll admit I am somewhat troubled by her comment made years ago about what a "wise Latina" might do vs. a white male who hadn't had her experiences. But I'll cut her some slack on that one. Who hasn't said something they wish they could take back later? And to bring up that comment so many years after she said it leads me to think that if that's the worst thing they can come up with, she's way ahead of the rest of us.

I don't like the liberals telling us "there's no reason and no time for debate". That has just the opposite effect on me. When you tell me to stop thinking, stop debating, and just go with the flow, that's when I immediately recoil and I will challenge that much harder. If there's nothing to hide, then why the rush? Let due process happen. Judge Roberts certainly got put through the wringer (there's a term my kids probably don't even understand!) and all the other justice nominees of the last two decades endured the same. What's good for the goose is good for the gander, eh?

Here's what troubles me at the moment: 1) Contrary to the headlines, she's NOT Puerto Rican. She's American, unless the Bronx was part of Puerto Rico back in the '50's (I'm pretty sure it wasn't). 2) She has been a strong advocate for hiring Latinos. I don't like it when anyone lobbies to get preferential treatment of a race, a religion, a nationality, or a family member. I say, hire the most qualified, full stop. 3) Where are the brilliant judiciary decisions Ms. Sotomayor has handed down from the bench, that makes her such a great choice for the Supreme Court? I've read summaries of the best of the best she's done, and frankly, I'm not impressed, and you won't be either.

She is apparently very bright, if you look at her educational record. There's a lot to be said for bright, especially in this job. But I want bright coupled with morals and ethics. I want bright crowned with inspired wisdom. I want bright veiled with humility and compassion. I want bright connected to jurisprudence, not bench legislation. I want...someone more like...like...Judge Judy! (ok, maybe Judy isn't all that humble)

Relativism is Absolutely Wrong

Wow, what a terrific article! Written by Jewish Rabbi Mark Miller, read it on line by copying and pasting this into your browser:

http://www.ldsmag.com/ideas/090520Prayer.html

Good stuff!

Oreo (the dog, not the cookie)

OREO, MAY 16, 2009



Yesterday was a sad day for me. Our little Shih Tzu, Oreo, reached a point where the whole family felt inclined to have her put to sleep, as her quality of life had gone downhill so much. For all intents and purposes she was blind, and had lost most of her hearing, too. She slept almost all the time, and had lost control of her bodily functions to the point that we were finding little messes continually. She bit the Hawkes, when they tried to pick her up to get her back into the house as they were watching her one day, and I think that was probably just because they didn’t pick her up in the right way and she was reacting to a sharp pain. She was exhibiting other signs of pain, too.

So, I made an appointment at the Hawthorne Animal Clinic to have her euthanized. They were terrific in the way they handled it. I was allowed to be with Oreo to the end. They just gave her an overdose of anesthesia, and she went to sleep. It happened very rapidly, she had no pain, and felt me petting her as she went to sleep.

I thought it would be fun to celebrate her life and the joy she has brought to us these many years, so I asked the family to send me their favorite memories if they wanted to. Here are some recollections...

* One of my most favorite memories that involved Oreo was Christmas a few years back when you bought a "present" for Oreo...the "Bark Free". Dad thought he was going to beat the system with this one! When he plugged it in, a loud and high pitched sound came from the Bark Free that all of us could hear--not just the dog! Oreo went crazy and we could not stop laughing at the situation! So much for Bark Free, right?

* I remember when we first got Oreo, mom made it a point that us kids were going to be the ones in charge of training her. We pulled a mattress down to the kitchen and spent the first couple weeks sleeping in the kitchen with Oreo in an attempt to train her to be quiet at night!

* Oreo always has to do a couple of full-speed laps around the house after taking a bath.

I still can't believe that Oreo never fell out of the car while hanging out the window--she loved the wind in her hair!

* I remember once I had given Oreo a bath and used...umm...Dad's shampoo on her in an attempt to make her smell "good." Dad had come home from work and claimed that she smelled so bad and I couldn't stop laughing because it was his own shampoo I had used on her...

*One of the great memories i had with oreo was when we were first training her while we lived in orange ca. We had to take turns sleeping on the kitchen floor with oreo making sure that she didn't cry because of the dark, would go to do her "business" at the right time and at the right place and also for just companionship. I could tell that she missed leaving her family and wasn't totally ready for ours, but as she grew and matured over the years we could tell that she was one of us now.

* My favorite and most memorable recollection of Oreo is when we first got her. I remember we started in our family room, and there was a note from Santa telling us to go to another part of the house. When we got there, there was another note and something related to a dog. We had a bunch of these that led us around the house with more and more dog items. The last note told us to go back to the family room, and when we got there, the once-empty fireplace now had a cardboard box in it. And in the box was none other than the young pup Oreo! Santa was so cool, he was able to get the box there with no one noticing.
I remember how Oreo would always come into the family room to be part of the family when it was time for Family Night…

* I remember how we used to have to tackle her so she wouldn't run out the front door when we opened it…and then how scared she got when I threatened her while holding a broom…and then after that all we would have to say was, "Oreo, I'm going to go get the broom!" and she'd come running!

* I remember how she used to manage to be able to get up on the counter and eat the butter when we lived in Orange and had our kitchen table too close to the counter.

* She was so good to be in a kennel for 4 months when we moved to Bellingham.

* The funniest thing I saw Oreo do was when she'd chase a ball we threw in our long entryway in Orange, and she'd slide til she hit the door.

* But the very funniest was on that Christmas Day when dad got that thing to try and make her stop barking when the doorbell rang and it didn't work.

* I remember how she used to go crazy and run back and forth when Katie came home from school.

* She was very territorial…she used to sit on the back of the chair so she could see out the front window and she'd bark like crazy when someone went by. But when she was out on a walk she didn't bark at all. NOT very social with other dogs.

* I remember how she put Theo (a bigger dog) in his place Christmas morning at Stephanie's house.

* So fun…the hunt the kids when on to find her Christmas morning! AND Mom and Dad had been up all night with her, trying to keep her quiet, and she ended up in a hamper, in the car, in the garage!

* She loved to go for car rides and hang her head out the window.

* She hated thunderstorms!

* Oreo would always know when something was wrong. if you were crying, or hurt, she would come and snuggle up with you. That's my favorite thing.

I remember the first time we saw Oreo, when she still belonged to Spike and Kerri Nichols. She was newborn, and we picked her out of the litter as a Christmas present for the kids. No one could avoid loving such a cute little thing!

Oreo loved Christmas, because she loved “fighting” with the wrapping paper. She had fun grabbing a big piece in her mouth and shaking it fiercely, like a wild animal would shake its prey, till that paper fell into submission.

* I think the thing I always found most fun about Oreo was the little game we played, pretending to fight. It took almost nothing to trigger her into playing with me. All I had to do was come at her slowly with my outstretched hands, and she would immediately begin barking and snapping at me. My objective was to grab her and wrestle her to the ground, and her objective was to stay upright and get in a few good bites. It was a pretty fair fight up to the time where she began to lose her vision. I know that in Oreo’s mind, she always won, because she would never, ever, give up. Even if I got her down, she would bounce back up, ready for the next round.

* Oreo was always so protective of the kids and Lisa. Anytime I would wrestle with any of them, she would start barking at me to get me to stop. The kids figured this out and knew that all they had to do was scream, even if I hadn’t touched them, and Oreo would come running to the rescue.

* True to her breed, Oreo’s instinctive job in life was to announce and screen visitors. Any time there was a knock at the door or the doorbell rang, she would begin barking loudly and run to the door. It became a real chore to hold her back as the door opened—she has scared more than one person as she lunged at them! The funny thing is she was always ok with women; it was unknown men she didn’t like.

* Oreo was also very quick to protect us and her territory from other dogs—regardless of their size. More than once, I have seen her confront dogs 4 or 5 times her size if she felt they were threatening. Never once did she back down or become submissive to any other dog. Thunderstorms, however, were something that really frightened her. She would hear thunder long before we could, and would start panting and pacing the house, her heart pounding. So many nights she has awakened us, scratching at our bedroom door, during a storm. And there was no consoling her, she would scratch on every closed door in the house. Holding her didn’t help. The best we could do was put her on a bed too high to jump off of, to keep her from pacing and scratching.

* My last good memory of Oreo is one she gave us just yesterday. Lisa gave her Oreo ice cream for a snack yesterday, and this morning I gave her ham and eggs. Just before it was time to go to the vet, Lisa gave her a bone-treat. She was so full from the ham and eggs she wasn’t eating it, just carrying it around in her mouth. Lisa wanted to get a picture of her. Oreo ducked under the chair she always slept in, came out the other side and headed towards the back door. Lisa took her outside, and Oreo did something we had never observed, in all her years with us—she felt her way to a spot of clear ground, dug a hole and buried the “bone”! It was just too funny. Dogs bury bones with the idea that they will be back to get them. I like to think that Oreo was telling us that she’ll be back, she’ll see us again, someday. And she will.

Donations, Please

So, I got a call today to go see the clinic. That means my lucky number came up and I was required to donate a couple of samples for drug and alcohol testing. I am required as a condition of employment to donate anytime I am called upon. No big deal, I've done it many times before, ho hum.

Only this time, I was about to go to the field, and had just suited up with my flame-retardant overalls, boots, hardhat, goggles, gloves, earplugs, earmuffs, safety glasses, badge, wallet, and a couple of booklets I would need while doing a field tour. So when I got the call to go to the clinic, it was inconvenient, but I had no choice. Resigned to just get it over with, I went right over (you have to arrive within 30 minutes of getting the call).

So I arrived and was told I was going to be their guinea pig. They had a new system and apparently I was the first one to be subjected to it. And, the nurse was apparently new. No big deal to me.

First I blew into the breathalyzer. It read +0.000, no alcohol detected. I signed a piece of paper verifying that I saw the reading on the machine, half done already. But then they gave me a cup for a, um, sample. I said I didn't think I could donate the amount they were requesting. No problem, they said, we'll just put you on "the wait list". I was told to have a chair, drink some water, and keep track of how much I drank, but to not drink more than three cups of 5 oz. each. Ok, no problemo. After 15 minutes I announced that I thought I was ready.

The nurse took me into a bathroom and showed me a toilet with a blue dye in it, and told me not to flush. She gave me the cup and told me to fill it at least half full. I was really in a hurry to get to my other appointments by this time, but was nervous about the quantity requested. I closed the door, and did my best to fill that cup halfway. I just couldn't get there, and was wondering what they would do now?

I took the sample back to the nurse waiting just outside the door. She needed to make sure I hadn't scooped any blue water out of the toilet as a substitute sample. I hadn't. She looked at the sample quantity and thought it would be ok, and split it into two smaller containers. Whew!

Now, back to the room where we started to complete the paperwork. Nurse sat at the computer and pulled my name up. It asked if she wanted to remove me from the wait list. She clicked yes. It asked if donor (that would be me) had refused to donate. She clicked no. It asked if she really wanted to remove me from the wait list. She clicked yes. It removed me from the list and went to the opening screen. She realized she had deleted me from the system--a real boo-boo.

Nurse called another nurse (I guess; he wasn't dressed like a nurse; meep; were you stereotyping there? yes, it was a he-nurse) to see if he could help recover me. He couldn't.

They called tech support for the software. After 15-20 minutes, the nurse got mad at tech support and told them they would hear about this from Corporate, and that they should know more about their own system. Then Nurse called Corporate for help. Corporate couldn't really help either. Nurse continued to fiddle with the system. Nurse took out a piece of paper with bar code labels on it to label the two samples. He got the first label on but the second label got all boogered up (that's a technical term) and couldn't be used. Corporate called back and they kind of got something working on the computer. Another set of labels were pulled out, and they got boogered up, too. A third set, and then a fourth all got applied to the little yellow samples before a bar code was finally readable by the bar code reading machine. There were so many labels they were afraid they wouldn't be able to open the bottles! So an hour and fifteen minutes later, I was released. Samples, off to some lab somewhere. What a job someone has--analyzing samples like this all day long!

The things I deal with that my ancestors never even had to think about!