Category Archives: Religion

Refugee or Pioneer

24 Tuesday Jul 2018

Posted by in family, People, Religion

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Today is Pioneer day and a holiday here in Utah. It marks the entry of the saints into the Salt Lake Valley and coincidentally the day I arrived home from my two year mission. It is an auspicious day, indeed. I’ve learned that some Utahns are near sick of the pioneer stories and one can hardly blame them. We tend to drag out the same stories year after year. It turns out there are many stories we’ve neglected as a result. If you are interested in Mormon history in the slightest I highly recommend the Pioneers in Every Land series on the Church history website.

That said, this is one of those traditional pioneer stories with wagons, persecutions, and walking… so much walking. I won’t apologize for it. This is a story of my direct ancestors. Separated as we may be by several generations their choices still reverberate through my life. Their stories are still very much mine.

Seviah Cunningham Egber

Five generations ago my parents were refugees. They’d been refugees before and they would be again. They were driven by mobs in Missouri twice. Homes were burned, crops destroyed or stolen, and they, their friends, and families harassed and forced at the point of bayonet into Illinois and onto the banks of the muddy Mississippi. It must have been a desperate sight, this beleaguered group of settlers spread out in hovels and makeshift tents, sick with cholera and malaria. One might be tempted to call them a broken people.

Their prophet leader was imprisoned on false charges in a jail poorly named, Liberty. In a cell too low to stand up straight, covered by thin blankets at night, and weighed down by the knowledge of his people being scattered and smitten by the hand of a wicked and unforgiving people he, Joseph, pled:

Oh God, where art thou? And where is the pavilion that covereth thy hiding place? How long shall thy hand be stayed and thine eye, yea thy pure eye, behold from the eternal heavens the wrongs of thy people and thy servants, and thine ear be penetrated with their cries? D&C 121:1-2.

God would buoy him up and he would emerge from that prayer and those six months imprisonment to lift his people from despair. The saints, as they were called, drained the mire and built a beautiful city, Nauvoo. My parents were there toiling to build Zion, a city of peace and prosperity where even the bells of the horses, they imagined, would ring with holiness to the Lord. In spite of the well known opposition many flocked to the city of the saints for a chance to live among them and worship the Lord.

In the midst of that town the saints would erect a temple. It was an ambitious enterprise for a people so poor. Yet, they were determined to build a House of the Lord. They were not content to wait till death to live with God, rather, they would invite Him into their city and into their lives. To the saints God was not an abstract idea or an impersonal being beyond the comprehension of humanity. Their God was a personal being, an approachable Father. Like Moses at mount Sinai or Peter on the water they felt called, and so they gathered. A swamp is no place for deity, only a temple would do.

Robert Cowden Egbert Sr.

This is where we meet my many-great grandfather, Robert Egbert, working on the construction of the temple. He was 24 years old. It is here, too, at the unfinished temple that he would meet 17 year old Seviah Cunningham. We know nothing of those meetings but we can imagine; Robert labouring under the humidity of the mighty Mississippi and Seviah in a full length dress and bonnet aghast at her perspiration. Did she carry water to the men building there? Or was it not such a Hollywood scene. Was her back bent with the swinging of a hammer, her hands blistered with the friction of a horse hair rope? Certainly, that relationship began with stolen glances and smiles. Perhaps they talked during breaks and meals about their ambitions and dreams. Undoubtedly, they spoke of this temple they built and of the lives they hoped to build with it. Good lives.

They were married in early April 1846. They’d finish that temple under guard and when it was done they’d walk away from it to become, once again, refugees.

You’ll need just a bit more context to really understand this story. The saints had been driven from one place to the next for over a decade and they had repeatedly sought redress and assistance from state and federal governments. Joseph Smith himself travelled to Washington to lay the problem before President Van Buren and Congress. It all proved futile. The federal government refused to intervene citing states’ rights and in this case the state was the abuser. There would be no assistance.

Joseph the prophet and his brother Hyrum the patriarch were soon gunned down by a wicked mob. So it was that the saints, broken and poor, streamed out of their beautiful city under the leadership of Brigham Young. They were heading west into Mexico and points yet to be determined. Such a venture would require money, of which, they had precious little. They were leaving behind farms and houses, shops and schools and a granite temple to be used to shelter farm animals. Though, the saints were not wholly friendless. Assistance came in a peculiar way.

The United States had declared war with Mexico and wars require soldiers. It just so happens that soldiers get paid. Thomas L. Kane, a Mormon sympathizer and by all reports an honourable and decent man, worked with John C. Little to convince President Polk that the Mormons would be better in the United States army than fighting against it. Polk would authorize the recruitment of a Mormon Battalion to fight in his Mexican American War. The proposal was made to Brigham Young and he, undoubtedly, saw the hand of God in the offer. About five hundred men were recruited and advances were made on their pay. Brigham promised the men that as long as they remained faithful none of them would be required to fight. They would, however, complete the longest overland march in US military history, from Iowa to San Diego, over 2000 miles.

Robert was among those five hundred recruits. He left his young bride at Council Bluffs in Iowa to await his return. It must have been a heart wrenching departure. So often in her short 17 years had Seviah seen her dreams snatched from her hands. At about five years old her mother died. A year later the family joined the Church in Oxford, Ontario Canada and soon emigrated to Missouri to join the gathering saints. By the time of Robert’s necessary enlistment she’d been a refugee three times and had suffered the loss, one way or another, of all her loved ones. Seviah’s father had tried to persuade her not to follow Brigham Young into the wilderness but her faith had outgrown her familial ties. She had left her family for Robert’s and like Ruth to Naomi had made covenants, “for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.” Ruth 1:16.

Yet here at the edge of the frontier Robert had to leave her with only the hope of a distant reunion. We consider the story of Job and marvel at the faith required in the words “the Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the name of the Lord.” Job 1:21. Seviah, it would prove, had the strength and faith of Job. She would not wait for Robert’s return. She was going to Zion.

With the assistance of Robert’s brother, Joseph, she harnessed her oxen and prepared the wagon. She drove that team herself not as a refugee but a pioneer.

No one is all stoicism and strength. Those people don’t exist. So Seviah found herself somewhere on the prairies driving her oxen onward and losing a battle with a deep sadness. The tears that dropped from her chin and splattered on the reigns fell like silent prayers for relief. As she cried she noticed a man approaching the opposite direction and tried to hide her swollen face as he passed.

He hailed her and asked if she were not the wife of Robert Egbert. Surprised, she replied that she was. He handed her a letter from Robert which she gratefully accepted. She recognized Robert’s handwriting and cherished every word. The letter told her that he was well and would meet her at the Sweet Water River. She carefully placed the letter in her apron and drove on with renewed hope. Later that day Seviah went to read the letter again but it was nowhere to be found. It was a terrible loss but the letter was all she needed in a moment of painful weakness.

Robert and the rest of his Mormon Battalion remained faithful. by the time they reached the coast the war was over. True to Brigham’s prediction they never joined a battle. Their soldier’s pay sustained their families and supported the saint’s exodus. Released from their obligations they turned to Zion. Robert, I’m sure, was anxious to get back to his young wife and at last begin the life they had hoped for. He’d left her in Iowa, it would be a long walk. At some length he arrived at the Sweet Water River. A party of immigrants had also arrived and he thought to greet them before pressing on to Iowa where he was sure Seviah remained. Soon he saw an ox team that looked quite similar to his own. He tentatively approached the wagon and to his great joy found Seviah very pleased to see him.

Robert apologized for not having had an opportunity to write in the nearly two years they’d been apart. This naturally confused Seviah. She had received a letter and it had told her he would meet her here at this very river. Neither could explain it but they were both grateful for such a tender mercy.

Life would not be easy. Carving a livelihood out of a desert beyond all civilization must have been daunting. However, Seviah’s father soon joined them in their new Zion. Perhaps he had been inspired by his daughter’s faith. Their story doesn’t end here. Under the direction of Brigham Young they were sent on, some years later, to settle in California only to find themselves driven from that state too. Seviah and Robert would go on to have 8 children. The sixth of which would be my great-great grandmother Sarah Catherine Egbert.

We look back on these intrepid ancestors and think pioneer not refugee. We think builder not beaten and victorious not victim. Their lives were filled with hardship and deep sorrows but it seems they had higher joys. They drunk from bitter cups without in turn becoming bitter and their children’s children have reaped the benefits of their faith.

————————-

Bibliography

Egbert, Seviah Cunningham. (Circa 1913). Seviah Cunningham Egbert Biographical Sketch. Dictated to Carrie Despain before 1913. (Manuscript). Church History Library, Salt Lake City.

Metcalf, Brandon J. (2018). Four things to know about the journey of the Mormon Battalion: An expedition of faith and sacrifice. Church History Department, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Accessed May 23, 2018 from https://history.lds.org/article/historic-sites/journey-of-the-mormon-battalion?lang=eng

4-generations-mother

We trace our lineage to Robert and Seviah through my mother.

Ramadan

29 Sunday Jun 2014

Posted by in Islam, UAE

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This will be our second Ramadan in the UAE. I quite enjoyed the relaxed pace of things last Ramadan and look forward to a general slow down in this holy month. On a practical level, for us, it means that my work day is reduced to 6 hours (without a lunch break).  Generally this means I’ll be in the office from 7am to 1pm.  Today, however, I am on the reference desk until 4pm so I won’t go in until 10am. I’m using some of that extra time to write this post. Ramadan also means changes in traffic.  The roads will generally be better except for right before Iftar when everyone is racing to get to the place they need to be to break their fast and late at night when folks are heading home after long meals and social events.

The word Ramadan, I understand, means “great heat.” I suppose that can have a symbolic as well as a practical meaning. Muslims fast from sun up to sun down over the entire month (I do not recommend that the Inuit convert anytime soon).  The devout find themselves in a period of deep reflection and prayer as well as study of their sacred text. It is believed that the Quran was revealed in the closing days of Ramadan.

The moon has been sighted and Ramadan begins in the UAE today. While the lunar calendar could be calculated mathematically they still declare the start of Ramadan based on actual sighting of the moon. I kind of like that. It inspires a sense of watchfulness and readiness for things to come.

I’ve been thinking for weeks about how I could participate more fully in Ramadan. I’ve mentioned to a few muslim friends that I was considering fasting.  They did not seem offended in any way that I would join in on the holy month. Islam is not my religion or my culture but I do have deep respect for the good it can do in the lives of the people who live it. I am fasting today – this first day of Ramadan – I won’t commit to any fasting beyond that. I will, however, spend more time with my sacred books and in prayer this month. It should be an interesting cultural experience.

Fasting is also a part of my religious heritage. We fast the first sabbath of every month. In most of the world that means from after the evening meal on Saturday to the evening meal on Sunday. The money we save during that voluntary fast is then given as an offering and used to relieve the suffering of the poor and otherwise afflicted. I am terrible at fasting.  When I remember to do it inevitably my Saturday evening meal ends somewhere around 9pm and the Sunday evening meal begins around 3pm. Fasting during Ramadan I suspect may take on a similar shape for me.

My real plan is to post daily during Ramadan much like I did over Christmas. I am looking forward to a month of reflection.

Ramadan Kareem

Repent, Forgive & Enjoy

09 Saturday Mar 2013

Posted by in Camping, Living, Outdoors, Religion, wadi

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It has been a few event filled weeks since I last wrote.  They have included a couple trips out to a local Wadi and the dedication of the first purpose built LDS chapel in the Middle East. I want to begin my post with a few words about that dedication and the visit of Elder Jeffery R. Holland.  To do that I need to start with a little background.

The LDS chapel in Abu Dhabi

The new LDS chapel in Abu Dhabi

Twice a year the LDS church has a worldwide conference broadcast from Salt Lake City.  The first weekend in April and the first weekend in October are the dates for these conferences.  Strangely, they are some of my favourite weekends every year.  The LDS people have, in part because of these conferences which have been happening for just shy of 200 years, developed an interesting love of the spoken word and beautiful music.  As I write this I am listening to a long running LDS program called, well… “Music and The Spoken Word.”  This program features the iconic Mormon Tabernacle Choir and the Orchestra at Temple Square.  Check out their youtube channel.  This is what I’m listening to right now:

So, at each of these conferences we generally hear from each of the members of the quorum of the twelve apostles and the first presidency of the church, among others.  Members of the quorum of the twelve apostles and the first presidency serve from the time they are called until their death.  The longest serving member of the quorum becomes the president of the church.  It is actually a fascinating form of ecclesiastical government.  What I am getting at here is that we hear from these men quite a bit.  Some of them have been serving as apostles longer than I have been alive!  I’ve heard them all speak many times.  My favourite among them is Jeffrey R. Holland.  The content of his speeches and his delivery consistently combine to inspire me and to draw me in.

I was more than elated to find out that Elder Holland would come to dedicate the chapel in Abu Dahbi.  Not only did we get to hear from him during the dedication but that evening he was the main speaker at a small devotional in Dubai. A rare opportunity to hear from him twice in one day and in such an informal setting.  He did not disappoint.  More than any words he could have uttered though was the sermon of his actions.  Elder Holland is one of the younger members of the quorum at 72 but I expect he only arrived in Dubai the night before (that is a long flight).  He not only spoke at length in the morning he returned to speak at length in our intimate devotional.  We packed as many as we could into that little villa in Dubai.  He spoke and then hung around to shake the hands of every member.

I debated whether to get in line to shake his hand.  You could tell he was tired.  Personally I’d have blown off that meeting and gone to the hotel for a nap if I was him.  Eventually I decided I’d better go shake his hand.  I may never have the opportunity to stand face to face with an apostle again.  I was shocked at the power in his grip.  He was still shaking hands when we left around 10pm.  His schedule for the next two weeks will take him to a different country in Europe every day.  I’m sure he will stick around to greet the humblest of members at every meeting.  I’m struck by the love he has for the saviour.  I think of Peter when Christ asked “Peter, lovest thou me?” and then counselled him to feed His sheep.   I could not help but think that Elder Holland is doing what the saviour would have him do.

I should pause here to say that every one that spoke that day did an incredible job.  The dedication of the Abu Dhabi chapel will rest in my memory as one of the most spiritually poignant experiences of my life thus far.  This chapel represents answers to many prayers.  I could not help but feel that God was pleased and smiling upon these people.  May it ever remain so.

So what was it that Elder Holland said in the two sermons he gave? A good deal.  I’ve mulled over his words these last couple weeks.  In the devotional he recalled a conversation he’d had with Hugh Nibley at Brigham Young University many years ago.  Brother Nibley suggested that all we really need to do in life is repent and forgive (slightly different than pay taxes and die).  Elder Holland expanded on that sentiment, his first reactions to it and his growing understanding of it over time.  I thought it a fitting message in an Islamic country – though I’m not sure that he planned it that way.  The word Islam means submission to the will of God.  From dictionary.com we learn that Islam comes from the “…root of aslama “he resigned, he surrendered, he submitted,” causative conjunction of salima “he was safe,” and related to salam ‘peace.'”  So with our Islamic friends we wish to utterly submit to the will of God or repent and forgive.  There is simplicity and power in this approach to life.

Elder Holland expounded on many beautiful doctrines that day.  In the end I came away with the message to repent, forgive and enjoy.  Though he did not say those words exactly, much of his message, I think, is summed up in that phrase.  Should we endeavour to live the first principles we should have the privilege of enjoying all of life.  This does not mean that life will be without upset, difficulty or long stretches of darkness.  Yet, through submission there is at least peace.

So on to the joy of life.  I played a game with the kids the other day and now they beg me to play it every night.  Indeed we’ve played it nearly every night for the last few weeks.  We call it Mission Impossible.  Before bed the kids arrange the furniture in the dinning room and living room and then shut out all the lights.  I take my place with a flashlight on the back of the couch at one end of the room and the kids begin after the count of 3 on the other end of the room.  They try to sneak through the room to a pillow resting at my feet.  If they can touch the pillow they win the game but if they are caught in my flashlight’s inner beam they are out.  When I shine the flashlight I can’t move it around the room and the kids have to freeze while it is on.  When I turn it off again I have to count to 3 slowly and out loud before I can turn it on again.  The kids let me know if I’m counting too fast.  Of course, the idea is to move from hiding place to hiding place during those 3 seconds.  Then when you are in reach make a dash for the pillow.

The kids love this game and like to argue over who gets to deign the “course.”  If you play this with your kids be warned that they are moving about in the dark rather quickly.  We’ve had our fair share of banged heads and stubbed toes.  Lilli got a bloody nose yesterday.  They insist on playing despite the injuries.  We’ve also found that it is no fun to be caught out too quick.  The kids get at least a couple chances.  If I catch them they have to spell a word properly before they get a do over.  Well, the spelling test has actually given way to singing and dancing… they love that!  Indeed, Lilli would probably be bored with this game by now if the singing and dancing in the flashlight’s glow hadn’t begun.  She is probably the least successful at reaching the pillow.

We spent the night out at Wadi Shawka last weekend.  It was spectacular.  A great fire with good friends.  Joe brought his Ukelele and we sung late into the night around the camp fire.  We had a big group out again for this camping trip.  Watching a near full moon break over the horizon to dim the view of a starry sky was as usual breathtaking. The next day we hiked into the Wadi and spent hours swimming in the biggest pool and bouldering the rock faces around it.  Jaron and I went exploring a ways up the river bed and then made the brave or possibly foolish move of taking an alternate route back to the pools.  Jaron insisted that we climb up the mountain and follow the thin goat track along the cliff face inches from sudden death.  I naturally can’t refuse my children anything.  That little experience has demonstrated that Jaron is as reckless as his old man.  He has the same “whats on the other side of that hill” fascination.  I couldn’t help but think “is this what my friends have put up with all these years?”  How many times have I led people into difficult situations because of my insistence that that mountain could be climbed, or that ravine ought to be explored…?  I can only hope that it works out as well for my son as it has for me.  Geez it is kind of annoying though – sorry guys.

Lisa took all the pictures and she is in Abu Dhabi tonight as a leader at the church youth conference.  Hopefully, she’ll write a little more about the wadi and post the pictures and videos she took.  We wish we could share all the great times we are having with friends and family at home.  You are all missed.

Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque

18 Monday Feb 2013

Posted by in Abu Dahbi, American University of Sharjah, Islam, UAE

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Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque

Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque

Earlier in the week I signed myself and the kids up to participate in a trip to the Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque for February 16th.  We were sent an itinerary, dress code and instructed to be promptly at the meeting place between 8:30 am and 9:00 am to be on the bus.  9:00 am came and went.  At 9:30 I decided I would wait 10 more minutes and then make other plans for the day.  Just as the time was running down the bus rounded the corner.  I was perturbed at having to sit in the sun waiting when I was told to be early but relieved that I would still be going to see the mosque as planned.

Half an hour into the journey the choruses of “Are we there yet?” began, surely signalling the beginning of a very long day.  As the mosque came into view I thought the kids would be just as amazed as I was.  Kirsten instantly went into teenager meltdown mode and refused to have her picture taken, talk to me, smile, or even sit up while we waited for our group.  A concerned security guard even approached her to be sure she wasn’t sleeping on the doorstep to the mosque.  With our group arriving late for our scheduled tour appointment we only had time for the brief “Reader’s Digest” version of  the tour before afternoon prayers would begin.  As we walked around the mosque the kids spread out, clinging to their friends right until the moment when our tour guide would begin to divulge some interesting facts about the mosque.  Every moment our guide began to open his mouth Jaron was standing on my toes, pawing at me, “Mom, Mom, Mom…when are we leaving?”  There are a lot of pillars, the mosque theme is a garden, and the main prayer room used to contain the largest chandelier in the world now it’s just the largest in that mosque.  These were the only tidbits of info I managed to hear.  To find out more interesting facts about the Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque click here or here.

A late start to the day meant late everything to follow.  Instead of heading back to the University at 2:00, we arrived at the Abu Dhabi Marina Mall.  The mall is located out on a little (I’m assuming) man made peninsula just past the Emirates Palace Hotel and before you get to the Heritage Village.  Inside there are some fantastic fountains, and a 360 degree viewing platform only 84 meters shy of the Space Needle in Seattle.  We didn’t have much time to explore this mall, only to have some lunch and a little treat before finding the bus.  We aimed for a 3:30 pm departure with a very ambitious 5:00 pm arrival back at AUS that slowly became a 6:30 pm arrival.  When we pulled into AUS Lilli leaned over and said, “I don’t want to get off the bus.”  Ha! Kids.

Looking into the courtyard
Mosque reflection
echoing archways
Glass wall flower decorations.
Closed for prayer time.
Marina Mall viewing tower. Platform is at 100 meters (84 less than Seattle Space Needle).
Chandelier in main prayer hall entrance
Main prayer hall. One piece of carpet (brought in 9 pieces and took 4 months to complete within the mosque).
Closed for prayer time.
Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque
courtyard mosaic
Looking into the courtyard
Time to go.
Entrance to main prayer hall
Main prayer hall. One piece of carpet (brought in 9 pieces and took 4 months to complete within the mosque).
Entrance to main prayer hall
Walking across the courtyard.
Marina Mall viewing tower. Platform is at 100 meters (84 less than Seattle Space Needle).
courtyard mosaic
Marina Mall
Frozen Yogurt Factory treat at Marina Mall.
Marina Mall
Colorful fountain at Marina Mall
Marina mall decor

Scary Possibilities

08 Friday Feb 2013

Posted by in Living, Religion

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All week I’ve been thinking about what it is I want for my children.  What would I need as a parent to feel successful?  More importantly what do they need as children to be “successful” as adults?”  In the midst of my pondering we had a small scare that really got me thinking.  On Tuesday night Lisa dropped Kirsten off at Hula.  Yes, she has a hula class where she learns to use a hula hoop with other like minded girls.  I haven’t seen her use a hula hoop since she began lessons last semester.  I imagine she is quite good at it now.  Perhaps I can convince her to share a video sometime.

The plan was for Lisa to walk over with the dogs to pick Kirsten up and walk back.  The wellness centre where Kirsten practices is about a kilometre from here.  Lilli volunteered to make the walk over instead.  She left about 15 minutes before Kirsten’s class was due to end.  20 minutes later Lisa jumped in the car to meet the girls over there and see if they’d like to walk back or get a ride.  In another 20 minutes Kirsten showed up at the house alone.  She hadn’t seen Lilli or Lisa.  Another five minutes passed and Lisa returned home, again without Lilli.  This is when I started to get nervous.

Lilli left the house with the dogs 40 minutes earlier and no one knew where she was.  So much can happen in 40 minutes.  I forced those thoughts down and reasoned that some miscommunication had taken place.  I jumped in the car and drove to Lilli’s friends home down the street…  she was not there.  As I entered the first of several round-abouts on my way to the wellness centre I was finding it more difficult to suppress thoughts of worst case scenarios.  Strangely the emotion I was feeling most was anger.  There is not much between the wellness centre and our home that could happen to a person to put them in danger so thoughts of the ill designs of depraved men kept rattling around in my skull.  My parental defensive instincts were fully charged but I had no child to defend, and no target to set my sites on.

Just as I emerged from the second round-about there was Lilli walking down the street with the dogs in the lead.  When she opened the car door and hopped in I could tell she was on the verge of tears.  It turned out she had gone to the wrong side of the building.  It was, after all, simply a little miscommunication.  As we reentered the round-about on the way home I spotted Lisa walking down the sidewalk in search of Lilli.  I could see the worry written across her face and then the instant relief as she saw Lilli in the passenger seat.  The door was soon flung open and Lilli’s tears she’d so valiantly kept at bay spilled out to mingle with Lisa’s.  The crisis had passed, the storm abated and all was well.  There was never any danger only the fear of possibilities.

This little incident, something every parent likely experiences at least once, pushed me to consider whether I should fear those possibilities at all?  Could something horrible and terrifying happen to my children my wife or me?  Yes.  Will I make reasonable and consistent efforts to lessen those possibilities? Absolutely.  Should I fear them?  If they occur how should I respond; how would I respond?  These are more difficult questions to answer.

One of my favourite fairy tales is Disney’s Sleeping Beauty.  I tend to like other tellings of it too.  The idea of good fairies that bestow gifts on the fair princess has always been a source of contemplation for me.  In the LDS church we perform an ordinance of naming and blessing our newborn babes.  I always think of Sleeping Beauty every time a  baby is blessed.  If I could bestow a single gift on each of my children would it be protection (insulation) from the evil designs of others?  I imagine my children growing to then become wealthy and powerful which are the two things (wealth and power) I believe have more potential for spiritual and mental harm than anything else.  The reasons for that belief are too many for this post though.  Let it suffice that wealth and power are not high on the list of things I hope for my children if they make the list at all.

Ultimately I cannot protect my children from all the dangers of the world.  What then would I “bestow” upon my children if I could?  To answer that I’ve mulled over what would give me the most pleasure to see develop in my children as they grow.  Would I like to see Kirsten become a renowned artist, Lilli an esteemed academic and Jaron a fine athlete?  How about simple health and happiness?  Trophies, awards and accolades for feats of determination, perseverance and consistent good work would all be quite gratifying.  Certainly I would be pleased to see them raise wonderful families with a person they love.  All of these things would be nice but not necessary.

I picture Jaron at school one day and a boy prompting him to play a small trick on another student and Jaron declining to do so because he knows it would hurt the others feelings.  I picture Lilli seeing a little girl every lunch hour without a lunch and Lilli sharing hers quietly with her each day.  I picture Kirsten being bullied by a girl at school but sensing this girls’ motivations learns all she can about the “bully” and after considerable effort discovers her true motivations and makes a lifelong friend rather than an enemy.  In other words, I wish for my children a generous portion of charity.  Should they be called to drink deep from bitter cups may they not in turn become bitter.  Should their lives prove a cornucopia of wealth, power and riches may they determinedly resist gluttony and instead willingly and generously share their wealth with all.  This is my fondest hope and desire for them.

Would it not be lovely if we could invite a few fairies to visit the cradles of our children and bestow such a gift upon them?  Sadly it does not work that way.  When LDS children are given a name and a blessing  their fathers ought not suppose that the blessings they pronounce are granted by God in some magical fairy like way.  No, the words those fathers utter in blessing may instead be called upon as evidence in their future judgement (either for or against).  I am convinced that by our examples we daily wave our magic wands over the fates and the lives of our children.

Lisa shared a poignant commercial on the power of example on Facebook the other day. It shows parents acting poorly and kids mimicking their behaviour.  I think the message would have been better served had they depicted parents acting nobly and their children acting accordingly.  Consider the power of these two videos with similar messages but different approaches:

This next video is actually a Coca-Cola advertisement (the use of which may be my mind’s deep desire to break my personal cola ban) but I think that while both messages are similar (clearly not exactly the same) the positive approach of the second will more likely inspire people to positive action than the negative approach of the first.  (Certainly Coca-Cola believes drinking their product would be positive).

This too long post has finally brought me to the conclusion of this weeks pondering.   What I want for my children is ultimately what I want for myself to live a charitable life regardless of the circumstances.  If I can live a life of charity and focus that example in a positive way I believe that is the most likely way to pass the blessings of a charitable life on to my children.

So I suppose, in the end, if my life is a Coke commercial I’ll feel that I’ve succeeded.

A Call to Prayer

16 Tuesday Oct 2012

Posted by in Islam, Sharjah, UAE

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One thing I have found surprisingly beautiful is the Call to Prayer.  Mosques dot the landscape the same way LDS stake centres do in Utah.  In each Emirate the timing of the prayer is a little bit different.

Within the Emirate it is an amazing, surreal chorus that rings out across the land.  Anna Zacharias of The National wrote, “The call to prayer, or adhan, is beamed live across the emirate five times a day via satellite from the Sheikh Zayed Mosque on the al Qawassim Corniche in RAK city. The four callers span the Islamic world, hailing from Morocco, Egypt, the UAE and Bangladesh. Though a single voice at a time delivers adhan to mosques at the click of a button, the call in each mosque absorbs the character of its setting.”

AUS Mosque

The following is the Arabic transliteration and the English translation of what you hear:

Allahu Akbar
God is Great
(said four times)

Ashhadu an la ilaha illa Allah
I bear witness that there is no god except the One God.
(said two times)

Ashadu anna Muhammadan Rasool Allah
I bear witness that Muhammad is the messenger of God.
(said two times)

Hayya ‘ala-s-Salah
Hurry to the prayer (Rise up for prayer)
(said two times)

Hayya ‘ala-l-Falah
Hurry to success (Rise up for Salvation)
(said two times)

Allahu Akbar
God is Great
[said two times]

La ilaha illa Allah
There is no god except the One God

For the pre-dawn (fajr) prayer, the following phrase is inserted after the fifth part above, towards the end:

As-salatu Khayrun Minan-nawm
Prayer is better than sleep
(said two times)

There is a mosque in downtown Sharjah, Al Noor Mosque, that allows non-Muslim visitors and residents to take a tour, and photos of the interior of the Mosque and learn more about the religion.  I intend to look into it, so stay tuned for a post on this topic.