“our spiritual lives should be our lives, not just a separate part of our lives.”

I think that is one of the tests of this life, whether or not we can fully integrate our many selves or not.

The idea that an adequate faith and behavior will automatically make one happ, in the common sense, should be excised as one of the worst doctrines to ever scourge the face of the earth. Christianity is a call to beneficial suffering. Suffering has its benefits, but happy-smiley-all-the-time is not usually the first one.

My favorite scriptural example of such integration is, what I call, the Complaint of Sariah in 1 Nephi 5:1-8. Sunday School lessons usually vilify Sariah for her lack of faith in the Lord’s direction to send her sons back to Jerusalem to obtain the plates of brass from Laban. The footnote of the word “complain” in verse 2 even “clarifies” the articulation of Sariah’s fear that her sons are dead as “murmuring,” and we all know from Laman and Lemuel that “murmuring” against God is a symptom of spiritual blindness and rebellion (1 Nephi 2:11-12, 3:31, 16:20, etc.). I’ve been thinking about Sariah for several years and have come to a different conclusion about her spiritual state.

I think it is significant that the scriptural text never uses the word “murmur” in relation to Sariah even though “murmur” is used frequently and consistently elsewhere in 1 Nephi. Instead her “manner of language” is described as a complaint. In colloquial Modern English, complaining has lots of negative connotations and is essentially synonymous with murmuring, but the primary definition of “complain” stems from its Latin root “plangere,” which means “to lament aloud, bewail, mourn, or express a grievance.” While the scriptures are quite clear that we should not murmur against God, Christ himself promises us numerous times that He will succor us when we are weak, despairing, and filled with pain, that is, when we are moved to complain.

I think it is also significant that in verses 4 and 5 Lehi does not rebuke Sariah for expressing her fears in verse 2 as he and Nephi both rebuke Laman and Lemuel for their rebellious murmuring throughout 1 Nephi. Instead, his comments are described as comforting in verse 6. Here is a woman who has stood loyally by her husband through persecution, danger, and exile at the Lord’s command while not being privy (at least we never hear about it) to the glorious visions and revelations of her husband and son, but who is finally pushed to the limits of her endurance by the fear of loosing her children. Lehi sensitively acknowledges her fears by not denying her statements, and he offers reassurance based on some of his own personal revelation. While Nephi does not tell us the degree to which Sariah was consoled by Lehi’s words, I do not get the sense that she feels truly comforted until her sons return in verse 7. It is only then, in verse 8, that she can speak confidently (and in the first person!) of God’s mercy and love made manifest in her life.

In the times of my life when I feel pain, disappointment, or fear, and the future seems to stretch out in continuation of the same, I know that if I turn towards God instead of away from Him that _over time_ the healing power of His love will soothe away those feelings until I can feel peace and hope again.

m&m, like annegb and S, Nephi isn’t the first prophet who comes to my mind when I think of this, but I do think the passage you cite is a good one. I find Nephi a bit relentlessly positive, especially in 1 Nephi, so I’ve always appreciated that chapter. And I think it’s a good example of someone acknowledging how he’s feeling, and bringing it to God. Though as S pointed out, I also think it’s worth remembering that the process often takes time, that you can’t simply say “rejoice, and no longer be angry,” and instantly zap it away. (Not that I think Nephi is necessarily advocating that, by the way; just that the passage might be read that way.)

annegb, I have a certain fondness for Peter. He frequently gets it wrong, but he keeps going. I also get a kick out of many characters in the Old Testament who are delightfully human–like Jonah, for example, who sits down and sulks when the people actually repent.

Thanks for the kind comment, Lindsey.

JWL, that’s an interesting take on Captain Moroni. I have to confess that I’ve always had a rather difficult time with him. But I think what’s gotten me soured on him is the tendency to idealize his every act, and I really like the idea of viewing him as a flawed character who nevertheless stays true to the faith.

Also, I thought your restatement was pretty accurate (if a bit masculinized ).

I would be interested to know if this is a fair restatement of some of what Lynnette was getting at:

When we deny our negative feelings we don’t defeat them, we just drive them into our subconscious where they secretly divert us from self-knowledge and thus real self-control. Beating ourselves up over our flaws can divert our focus from moving ahead with what we must do.

Maybe that is a overly masculinized action restatement of what is primarily an exploration of feelings, but hey that’s what I am, deal with it! (Is that integrated or just obnoxious?)

I think what the Nephi example doesn’t capture, though, are those moments where we can’t quickly turn to the positive. There are many moments where we say “I feel pain,” we bring that pain to God, and it takes time before we feel the blessings of the Atonement and are able to rejoice. I think what Lynnette is trying to say (and she can correct me if I’m wrong) is that it’s *okay* to have those moments of doubt and fear and pain, and it’s okay if the happiness is not immediate. What’s most important is to bring that pain into dialogue with God and the rest of your life so that you can begin to figure out how to move on.

I wouldn’t equate Nephi with this, I would equate Alma the Younger or Enos. No, maybe, who’s the most human saint? Peter? He was a bugger, but boy, wouldn’t you like him to have your back? J. Golden Kimball?

No, it has to be somebody who accepts themselves, lets themselves feel. Marjorie. I made her into my imaginary fairy Godmother while I was still looking for God and I have her picture on my desk, saying, “Save the relationship!”