David Rodeback, Author at Bendable Light

Short Take: More Than a Sower

Posted on April 26, 2015by David Rodeback

[su_accordion][su_spoiler title=”Author’s Note” style=”fancy”]My neighbor and I are writing short columns for our monthly ward (congregation) newsletter, focusing on the New Testament in 2015. Here’s my “short take” for May.[/su_spoiler][/su_accordion]

In Jesus’ Parable of the Sower (Matthew 13:3-9, 18-23) seeds fall in different places. Some are eaten immediately by birds. Some fall in stony places with little soil, where the sprouts cannot endure the heat of the day. Some sprout among thorns and are overwhelmed. Some fall in good soil and bring forth abundant fruit.

These outcomes represent common responses to hearing God’s word. Respectively, some people reject it; some receive it joyfully but cannot endure persecution; some hear it but are diverted by riches and the world’s cares; and some accept and understand it and bring forth fruit.

If we take this valuable parable too far, we might forget that ours is a God of Second Chances.

Having spent my youth on farms, growing grain, alfalfa, potatoes, and cattle – while tending a half-acre vegetable garden at home – I am cannot see the end of this parable as the end of the story.

Consider what the farmer and gardener do. If the soil is weak and shallow, they build it up – with organic matter and sometimes by bringing in more soil. If the soil is rocky, they remove the rocks. If birds steal the seed, they find ways to repel the birds. If weeds intrude, they spray or pull them, so the crop is not choked.

Our Sower returns to plant again and again, working faithfully to improve the soil – harrowing up our souls, when necessary (2 Nephi 9:47; Alma 14:6; 36:12; 39:7) – until he has done everything a God can do to save his children (see Moroni 7:36).

Easter, Faith, Religion & Scripture, Notes & Essays by David Rodeback

Lenten Reflections

Posted on April 2, 2015by David Rodeback

In the Protestant tradition, today is the last day of Lent. (The precise span is different in other traditions.) Unlike most of the Christian world, members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints don’t formally observe Lent. Our awareness of it tends to be shallow and cultural, not deep and devotional.

As in: People give things up for Lent, right? Like chocolate and reality television? Just to prove they can? Things they love and to which they intend to return? — because if they were things they should give up anyway, they wouldn’t wait for Lent, and their abstinence wouldn’t end with Lent, would it?

As in: Lent appears from the outside to be a needed respite after the day- or weeks-long bacchanal of Mardi Gras, an orgy of fleshly pleasures so intense that it takes participants six and a half weeks to detoxify (physically and/or spiritually) sufficiently that they can walk into church on Easter in a straight line and with a straight face.

This is a shallow, ignorant view of Lent. Let’s take it more seriously for a few moments here.

New Perspective

You’ve already guessed that I’ve begun to think more seriously of Lent. A favorite Christian blogger, Kim Hall (at GivenBreath.com) has been helping me, even if she doesn’t know it. In a lesser way, my Mormon bishop (pastor) helped this year, too. So did some people whose names, roles, and troubles I will not mention beyond this sentence, who have turned to me in recent weeks for counsel, comfort, or simply a listening ear.

Faith, Religion & Scripture, Notes & Essays by David Rodeback

Short Take: One Parable, Six Roles — Good Samaritan

Posted on March 29, 2015by David Rodeback

In Jesus’ parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:29-37), a man is robbed and badly beaten. Some people help him, and some don’t.

The cast of characters includes thieves; their victim, who was probably a Jew; a Jewish religious leader (priest); a Jewish temple worker (Levite); a Samaritan, whom the Jews thought racially and religiously impure; and an innkeeper (called the host).

The thieves leave the victim half dead. The priest and Levite see him but keep their distance; contact with blood or a corpse would make them ceremonially unclean. The Samaritan had compassion and “went to him, and bound up his wounds, . . . and brought him to an inn, and took care of him,” leaving extra money with the innkeeper and promising more, if needed.

We might see ourselves in each of these roles.

One hopes we are never the thieves, wounding people and leaving them half dead. Are we ever the priest or Levite, using our (Christian) religion as an excuse not to be Christian? Sometimes we are the innkeeper, serving others in a supporting role.

We like ourselves in the role of Good Samaritan and aspire to play it often. “Go, and do thou likewise,” said the Lord.

This parable has another level, because we are also the thieves’ victim: damaged, fallen, left for dead. The Savior himself – “despised and rejected of men” (Isaiah 53:3), like a Samaritan – is the Good Samaritan, who rescues us, heals us, engages others to help us, and pays the full price of our redemption.

Miscellany

Guest: Jeff Rodeback – BYU Athletics and Keeping It in Perspective

Posted on March 21, 2015by David Rodeback

After BYU’s disappointing first-round tournament loss Ole Miss tonight, I found myself wishing that BYU cared more about its big-name sports. Maybe then the Cougars would win more high-profile games.

But the fact is that BYU doesn’t care about sports. Tom Holmoe might disagree with me, but it’s true. BYU does not care about sports, at least not in the way other big-name schools do.

Shortly after Bronco Mendenhall became BYU’s football coach, I attended a meeting where he discussed the interviews he had before becoming head coach. His final interview was with then-Elder Henry B. Eyring of the LDS Church’s Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. Elder Eyring’s job was to decide whether or not to hire Bronco.

In the interview, Elder Eyring didn’t mention football once. They talked about education, missions, the importance of the late teens and early twenties, the way BYU fits into the mission of the LDS Church, and just about everything else besides football. After that interview, Bronco got the job.

Fast forward a few years, and I was working for BYU’s police department. I wasn’t a police officer, but I worked closely with police officers and was heavily involved in security and traffic management on campus and at athletic events. Part of my job included writing parking tickets — and I gave plenty of parking tickets to well-known athletes.

Notes & Essays by David Rodeback, Writing, Language & Books

Barber Baby Bubbles and a Bumblebee (and Me)

Posted on March 7, 2015by David Rodeback

This week brought two noteworthy birthdays at 180fusion, where I work. For the company’s 5th birthday we had ice cream and cake. For Dr. Seuss’s 111th birthday — Monday — we took it on the road. About 20 of us went to Woodrow Wilson Elementary in South Salt Lake City and spent part of the afternoon going from classroom to classroom, reading Dr. Seuss books to the students there.

Before we were finished, we had visited more than 20 classrooms, from kindergarten to sixth grade, for half an hour each. I myself read to kindergarten students, first graders, and third graders, in groups ranging in size from 4 to 13 students.

The students at Woodrow Wilson presently come from 26 countries and speak 28 native languages. Most are refugees or recent immigrants from such places as Nepal and Somalia. A school official told us that some students who were in school this week were in a refugee camp in Africa just a week or two earlier.

Faith, Religion & Scripture, Notes & Essays by David Rodeback

Short Take: “Our Daily Bread” – The Source of All Life

Posted on March 1, 2015by David Rodeback

In the scriptures Jesus both prays and teaches prayer. His best-known instruction is what we Christians call the Lord’s Prayer (Matthew 6:9-13; Luke 11:2-4; 3 Nephi 13:9-13).

In this model prayer Jesus praises his Father and acknowledges his own subordinate place – as we might well do from our lowlier position. He asks for big things: “Thy kingdom come,” and so forth, showing that he knows and is committed to the big picture. Then he turns to daily needs: forgiveness, protection from evil, and food.

“Give us this day our daily bread,” he says. But why should I ask for it? Don’t I buy it – and the minivan and fuel I use to haul it home – with money I earn by working?

I might feel independent, but in truth our dependence on God is total.

Paul said, “He giveth to all life, and breath, and all things. . . . In him we live, and move, and have our being” (Acts 17:25, 28).

King Benjamin said, “[He] is preserving you from day to day, by lending you breath, that ye may live and move and do according to your own will, and even supporting you from one moment to another” (Mosiah 2:21).

Much later, the Lord himself explained that the power of God “is in all things [and] giveth life to all things” (D&C 88:13) and “enlighteneth your eyes” and “quickeneth your understandings” (D&C 88:11).

By asking – or thanking – God for my daily bread, I acknowledge him as the ultimate source of all life, including mine.

History and Biography, Notes & Essays by David Rodeback, Writing, Language & Books

Nathaniel Philbrick’s Mayflower

Posted on February 9, 2015by David Rodeback

A few years ago, not more than four, I decided it was time to enlarge my understanding of period of American history I had studied very little: the 17th century, give or take, from the arrival of the Pilgrims on the Mayflower in 1620 through the aftermath of King Philip’s War (1675-76).

I bought three recent books and began reading the first, Nathaniel Philbrick’s Mayflower, a New York Times bestseller and winner of the National Book Award a few years ago. It’s a very readable book, and I immediately began to enjoy it. That it took me until I was on a recent flight to Seattle to finish it is no reflection on the book itself. It is simply a consequence of the fact that, though I read quite a bit, my reading time — with mental energy for history and in a situation where I can sit and mark up a book — is quite limited. So I read dozens of other books — mostly fiction — while I was reading this one off and on.

Some of the roots of our national founding are in that period, I knew — including some of our early challenges with respect to religious freedom. I also expected the ambivalence of Pilgrims, and later Puritans, toward the indigenous peoples. I expected fear, heroism, bloodshed, confusion, brutality.

I suppose I expected insights into the challenges of diverse peoples attempting to coexist. But as I began to read, there were some interesting surprises on that theme. And there were sad accounts of what I had mostly forgotten, the beginning of the slave trade in New England, involving native slaves.

Christmas, Faith, Religion & Scripture, Notes & Essays by David Rodeback

Short Take: Shepherds and Lambs

Posted on January 4, 2015by David Rodeback

God invited shepherds to visit the manger that night, then bear witness – not religious, civic, or business leaders (Luke 2:8-18). The God and Friend of ancient shepherds – Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Abel, Moses – was not just being social. He was continuing a frequent and powerful symbol, declaring both who Jesus is to us – Shepherd and Lamb – and who we are to him. (See Isaiah 53:6-7; 1 Peter 2:25; 1 Nephi 13:41; Helaman 15:13.)

Observers of shepherds’ ancient ways report details which help us understand the symbolism.

Shepherds lead from the front, instead of driving from behind. (“Follow me” – see Matthew 9:9; John 1:43.)

A shepherd knows the face, personality, and name of each sheep.

Each shepherd has a unique call, which his sheep recognize. (“My sheep hear my voice . . . and follow me” – John 10:27.)

Sheep generally follow their shepherd, but sometimes bolt. The shepherd knows which sheep is missing and goes to find it. Bringing a sheep back on one’s shoulders is heavy, smelly work.

A proper shepherd doesn’t recoil from an ailing sheep. He ministers.

A shepherd is compassionate. Jewish tradition tells of Moses tending a flock before his prophetic call. One sheep bolts. He pursues it all the way to a familiar watering hole. He is kind and understanding, not angry, and says, “It was because of thirst that you strayed.” He lets it drink, then carries it back to the flock.

Finally – as a prelude to our year’s study of the New Testament – when sheep hear their shepherd’s voice, they raise their heads, turn to him, listen, and gather to him.