D&C 161

(About this reflection)

This is one of two revelations produced by Grant McMurray, the first president of the Reorganization who was not a descendent of Joseph Smith. I appreciate the modesty with which the document was presented to the Saints: it was written and presented to the church in 1996, but McMurray waits four years before initiating the process that led to the document's canonization because, he said, "I felt it was important that the church live with the words and not feel compelled to make any urgent decisions about them." That principle rings true—that the canon should be composed of texts which have proved their value to the faith community over time.

I was going to excerpt passages that spoke especially powerfully to me; but when I sat down to start doing that, I realized that I'd end up copying down probably most of the text, so I think it makes more sense to just provide a summary of what, for me, are the highlights.

************

The document opens with a call to fix our eyes "on the place beyond the horizon to which you are sent." We are assured that "the great and marvelous work is for this time and for all time." We are exhorted to "be faithful to the spirit of the Restoration," which is said to be "a spirit of adventure, openness, and searching."

We are called to "become a people of the Temple--those who see violence but proclaim peace, who feel conflict yet extend the hand of reconciliation, who encounter broken spirits and find pathways for healing." The Temple should "stand as a towering symbol of a people who knew injustice and strife on the frontier and who now seek the peace of Jesus Christ throughout the world."

A major focus of the revelation is the "arduous" and "even painful" task of "creating sacred community." We are asked to "open your hearts and feel the yearnings of your brothers and sisters who are lonely, despised, fearful, neglected, unloved." We should "invite all to share in the blessings of community created in the name of the One who suffered on behalf of all." We are cautioned not to "be fearful of one another" but to "respect each life journey, even in its brokenness and uncertainty. . . . Be ready to listen and slow to criticize." Later, in the same vein: "Be tender and caring." "The gifts of all are necessary in order that divine purposes may be accomplished."

I know those instructions are true. Oh hell, let's use the word I usually avoid because I hate its authoritarian connotations: I know those commandments are true. And there's nothing self-congratulatory about my saying that, because they are commandments that chastise me.

We are told to "be respectful of tradition" because "the story of scripture and of faith empowers and illuminates." At the same time, we should not be "captive to time-bound formulas and procedures."

The revelation calls the Saints to "create diverse communities of disciples and seekers." Our call is to "become a global family, united in the name of the Christ, committed in love to one another, seeking the kingdom for which you yearn and to which you have been summoned. That kingdom is a peaceable one and it shall be known as Zion."

************

My impulse at the moment is to feel angry and depressed: Why can't LDS leadership hear the Voice that speaks in this language? But I'm going to check that impulse. For one thing, it's not entirely fair: I could find these principles in LDS discourse, though they may not be expressed so powerfully and are buried beneath a lot of authoritarian, dogmatic, diversity-fearing sediment. The other reason to check this impulse is that what LDS leadership, or the LDS community more generally, does or does not do is beside the point as far as my obligations are concerned. D&C 161 articulates the gospel call in a way that commands my assent, and my task now is to live up to its principles in the context in which I find myself.