Facebook Resistance

 

 ... sweet peas, a gift from my sister, Moiya ...

Facebook has its detractors.  

I don’t dislike Facebook.  

I just don’t find going out there satisfying.  

That is, until I find out that Rebecca posts out there regularly.  

And Catherine posts out there regularly.  

And I want to know what they are doing; as well I do not want them to have the burden of sending me another email when they have already made some public declaration or other: “ the sunset is exquisite tonight”, “here is a picture of us picking up Catie from the airport”; “look at the beauty of the public park that these volunteers have been working on”. I want to see all of these pictures.

In my religious congregation, and new, during Covid times, the Bishop set up a Facebook page.  I could feel my initial resistance to Facebook again; but I reasoned myself into joining for all the same  old reasons:  I want to know what is going on; I don’t want to burden someone with telling me something I can go find out myself. 

I think there is a bigger reason for me joining my ward Facebook page.  If I project and try to think of when I might get back to church, my most conservative answer is, maybe never.  The pandemic may last longer than I have years to live, 5? 7? 10?  As the virus mutates no one knows what is going to happen.  When I am optimistic the answer is I will be back to church, maybe in one year, perhaps the fall of next year,  but that would be my best guess.  I am in the cohort who should wait until I hear “all’s clear” before I attend again. 

Perhaps I will never be able to go back.  So how am I going to experience religious community, I reason, unless I go to Facebook.  And I have added an extra step for me.  If I want to get community, I should think about how I am going to give it.  

How to do this electronically is one of the questions that circulates in my mind in the early morning hours of the days.  Like now.

For fun I have imaged I am a ward Facebook missionary.  “We have a nice spot out there?  Why don’t you join?” or “I know you hate Facebook, but this is a nice substitute for going to church, if you used to like that.”  I have taken severe rebuffs, since I took the initial chance to ask again, but I have asked for those punches.  

I invited a relative whom I know hates Facebook.  They said, “Maybe it is good for you, but not for me.”  When someone stands in their truth, I have to take off my missionary badge.  

They are right.  Not for them.  

But yes, it is good for me.

Arta

Thoughts on Greg's Article

... the last daisies of the summer still bloom in my garden ...

Pandemic history begins in 1914.  

That is not the title of a recent article Greg Bates wrote for the Ward Newsletter.  

Still, it is what I got from his article – a list of world events that have acted upon us, and we with them since 1914.  

I liked the article because many words and phrases he uses brought up a long history from the 1950’s and on for me.

I didn’t know Greg Bates was a writer.  I didn’t know he had edited a newsletter.  I didn’t know he was an artist, even though Wyona has often said, when I am admiring one of her watercolours, “I am not the artist.  I only have craft.  Greg is the artist”.   When I think about Greg, I think of him as a dancer.  When Wyona and he cruise, they dance from 10 pm until the band stops playing, which is much longer than an old couple should stay up waltzing, doing the samba or jiving. 

“Where did you learn to dance?” I asked him 

“I went to Scouts”, he said.  “Scouts in the Sixth Ward.  Ken Dolan was the scout master.  Ruth and Ken didn’t have children, so they had time to do things couples might not do after they are married.  And one of them is dance.  They may have danced professionally, and maybe taught for he could teach scouts how to dance.”

“Didn’t you think dancing was a little odd at scouts?”

“I didn’t really think anything of it.  I didn’t know what any other troops did, and Ken made it seem normal to learn to dance.  Added to that, the church held a regular Saturday Night dance.  The protocol was to go to the dance, dance with many girls, and hope take drive home the one I really liked.

What a way for a 12 year old boy to learn to dance.

This summer I have watched Greg deep in the act of grandfathering, sometimes walking his loved ones down paths he has clear for them in the early spring.  

And occasionally he writes an article that invites me to think in a new ways.

Arta

A New Beginning? by Greg Bates

Photo: Arta

Greg Bates has another article published in the Bow Valley Ward Newsletter. He has given me permission to republish it here.

Arta

=========

Recent events have prompted many to look for answers beyond the daily outpouring of news and views. In order to better understand what is happening, many are turning to the past even though, as Mark Twain reportedly said, "History doesn't repeat itself, but it rhymes."

Looking at the recent past, the 20th Century for example, a number of historians mark the beginning of that century not in the year 1900, but 1914. Why do they do this?

The 20th Century was truly transformational. Almost all that we now take for granted was invented or came into general use during that 100 year period including electricity, running water, indoor plumbing, central heating, refrigeration, the telephone, automobile, airplane, radio, motion pictures, television, modern materials and modern medicines, computers, the internet, etc.

But there is another side to the 20th Century, a darker side. Imagine for a moment you were born in 1900. You are 14 when World War I breaks out. It ends in 1918 with 22 million lives lost. That same year, the 'Spanish Flu' pandemic strikes. Fifty million people die.

You are 29 when recoveryfrom these twin disasters falters with the onset of the Great Depression. Countries are near collapse along with the world economy. 

You are 39 when World War II erupts. Seventy-five million people perish in this war, including 6 million in the Holocaust.

You are 47 when the world descends into another war, the Cold War. This war, which lasts for 44 years, is marked by conflicts around the globe: the Iron Curtain, the arms race, the Korean War, the Berlin Blockade, the U-2 Incident, the Cuban Missile Crisis, Vietnam, Angola, Afghanistan.

You are 57 when another pandemic known as the 'Asian flu' breaks out, claiming over a million lives. 

You are 68 when yet another pandemic, the 'Hong Kong flu', breaks out, claiming another one million. The century finally draws to a close with Y2K and the Dot-com crash.

Why do some historians say the 20th Century began in 1914? Because all that went before 1914 was swept away. When will future historians mark the beginning of this century? Will it be the year 2000 or 2020?

In 2018, the Church made a announcement which was introduced by the following statement:

"For many years, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has been working on a home-centered and Church-supported plan for members to learn doctrine, fortify faith, and foster heartfelt worship."

In addition to introducing a new resource, "Come Follow Me", the Church announced a number of changes including changes to Sunday services.

One might have asked at the time how these changes were intended to help us in the future? Perhaps now we have at least a partial answer. Following the counsel of our Church leaders will guide us into the new, uncertain 21st Century.

As the Apostle Paul wrote: " . . . but we glory in tribulations also; knowing that tribulation worketh patience; and patience, experience; and experience, hope:" (Romans 5: 3 - 4)

All About Me

All About the House Next Door
a home-made cake for Alice's fifth birthday

 Lunch with Lorraine Wright included an all-about-Arta talk.

I couldn’t tell her everything, though I tried. 

She had three questions of me, all of which she might have asked at any lunch.

The first was how are you doing in these pandemic times?

She asked me the question a number of ways and each time I added to an already privileged gratitude list: I have access to any kind of food I might wish for; I have fabulous books stacked by my side waiting to be read; I have access to the internet, to read, to send messages, to blog; and I have learned enough Zoom technology that I can go to Zoom church with people. I give myself a 10/10 on the scale of possible happiness.

She asked me again how I am doing. I had to think if there were any chinks in my happiness scale, and there might be one – Richard, Miranda, Michael, Alice and Betty live next door. Now four of the five of them have gone to the lake, so my previous happiness scale might be down a bit. I explained to her that not only do they live next door, but I have an open invitation to eat with them every night. Every night. When I told Lorraine this, I looked into her eyes, just as I look into the eyes of anyone I tell this to. I want to see how amazement registers on people’s face. Lorraine just leaned over, put her hands on mine and said, “Arta, you are at 11/10 on the happiness scale.”

All About the People in the House Next Door
... 3/4 or the cake gone and everyone is full...

Lorraine’s second question to me was about the church. How are you doing with the church, she might have asked. I don’t remember the exact formulation, but I tried to capture the intent of the question. I told her that in the past two months, I have had the best job in the church. She asked me how so. I told her that my new bishop telephoned me one night and before he could do much more than identify himself on the phone, I had interrupted to tell him that I am fine, not to worry about my family-of-one during these hard times, and to take care of those needing his outreach, and I assured him I would call on him in times of need.

I couldn’t even have interrupted myself; I went on and on for so long. When he got a space to speak, he said, “Actually, I wasn’t calling to ask if you needed my help, I was calling to see if you could help me.” An instant review of my skill set, and I couldn’t think of what he might need that I have, but I am all in for helping where I can.

Bishop Hampshire: “Will you help me produce a bi-weekly newsletter for the ward?”

Arta: “I think you have the wrong person for that.”

Bishop Hampshire: “No. I think you are the right person.”

Arta: “Bishop Hampshire, I think you are wrong. And I think all my children would tell you that you have the wrong person. Whatever made you think I could help you that way.”

Bishop Hampshire: “I don’t know you well. But your name came to me as someone who might help me.”

Arta: “I do blog. Why don’t you go out, take a look at what I do there, and get back to me. I don’t think I am the person for you. I know I don’t have the skill set for what you are looking for.”

We said cordial good-byes. In 10 minutes, he got back to me saying yes, he had read enough of the blog to believe I was the person who could help him.

In the interest of making a long story short, here is why I think working on the newsletter for 13 issues was the best job in the ward.

1. I had a direct email-line to the bishop, anytime, day or night. No subject was off-limit, no opinion unheard. “No opinion?”, I asked him. “No, he said, “if you have an alter-opinion, I want to hear it.” I tested him out. He was true to his word. Her is open to hearing every side of a story.

2. I interviewed people about their lives and heard details that seemed so precious to me, so dear, ideas that were so full of experience and maturity and wisdom.

3. I got acquainted with the other person who does the behind the scene work: Natalie Berg. In 100 years I could not have imagined our spring-winter pairing, me in my 80s and she in her 20’s. For me a deep friendship occurred with her.

4. The pandemic times require forward-thinking. Bishop Hampshire has created a weekly 4 page newsletter and seen that there is a facebook page for our ward. I don’t know what to call him. The newsletter did publish a photo of him beside his motorcycle. #BikerBishop could be one handle for him. Or how about #ProgressiveBishop. Find a ward keeping up with ours as far as maintaining social connections are concerned. I think we are onto our 15th Issue of Ward Newsletters. Maybe I will just say #BelovedBishop, #NewsletterBishop, #COVIDawarnessBishop.

All About the People in the House Next Door
... is this slice the new normal for a birthday cake? ...

I liked this ward job.

Dale Hampshire made me feel as though I had something to contribute.

 I made a mistake.

I was giving up my exercise time, and my family blogging time because I was figuring out how to do such an open-ended job.

The ward newsletter was on my mind most of the time.

Always there were questions in my mind: is the newsletter creating diversity? are we finding an expression for all of the voices in our ward? is the newsletter maintaining focus on the personal in people’s lives? do the columns help us to know each other better? are we hearing the voices of the children? the teens? the graduating students? the mid-career adults? are we valuing artistic expression as much as literary work?

Actually, the questions were weighing heavily.

Who wouldn’t want a job like that?

I had to give it up.

If I get my own life under control again, that is the job I hope someone will ask me to do again. So that is my answer to how I am with church. Bring it on when I have time.

And that is the end to some of the questions asked and answered at lunch.

Arta

The Bishop of Orleans

The following was written by Greg Bates for the Bow Valley Ward Newsletter. I am putting it on the family blog for people to read who may have missed the newsletter.

=====

We read The Book of Mormon, as we read the other scriptures, for the eternal truths it contains, the words of the Saviour and his prophets.

We begin reading the scriptures before perhaps we understand their significance. We read them while making life changing decisions. We read them when we experience success and happiness. We read them during times of sadness and sorrow. The words do not change, but our understanding of them does. The Book of Mormon ends with Moroni writing about testimony, concluding with his farewell.

What does the Bishop of Orleans have to do with Moroni and Book of Mormon? Well, nothing, really. Charlemagne chose a man by the name of Theodulph to be the bishop of Orleans. Among his many accomplishments, Bishop Theodulph wrote the words to the hymn, "All Glory, Laud, and Honor," Hymn 69 in our hymn book.

Theodulph was born just over 300 years after Moroni wrote his farewell.

Published in the Bow Valley Ward Newsletter, June 1, 2020 

Note from Arta:

If you click on the link above for the music to this son and wish to try out the words to the song, here they are below

All Glory, Laud and Honor

All glory, laud, and honor
To thee, Redeemer, King
To whom the lips of children
Made sweet hosannas ring
Thou art the King of Israel
Thou David's royal Son
Who in the Lord's name comest
The King and Blessed One

The company of angels
Are praising thee on high
And mortal men and all things
Created make reply
The people of the Hebrews
With palms before thee went;
Our praise and love and anthems
Before thee we present

To thee, before thy passion
They sang their hymns of praise;
To thee, now high exalted
Our melody we raise
Thou didst accept their praises;
Accept the love we bring
Who in all good delightest
Thou good and gracious King