Gospel Doctrine Old Testament Lesson #11 ;  Genesis 37;   Genesis 39;  Genesis 34:1–12 ;  35:22 ;  38:1–30 The manual states two aims for this lesson that are markedly different— but I think they work hand in hand to take us to the same divine destiny. “To help class members (1) learn how to make all experiences and circumstances work together for their good and (2) strengthen their commitment to obey the Lord’s standard of sexual morality.” (1) All things shall work for thy good… I truly believe that being divine means you have a transformative power to make all things be good. No matter what happens, it can lead to goodness. The story of Joseph being falsely imprisoned is one of these prime examples in the scriptures. Because he still chose to be a believer, the circumstances provided him a way to do good beyond what his previous scope of life had offered. The Doctrine and Covenant repeatedly promises that if we walk upright, then “all things shall work for thy good.” Now, hearing and understanding the possibility of this is very different than living it. All things? Like all all? Like when there are horrific things in people lives (that I can’t bear to even touch on here) and even the mundane irks of my own life, like the plumber still can’t get my kitchen sink to drain, and the electricity just went out again, and I found a snake in my shoe cabinet, and the rickshaw guy just tried to rip me off…again. All those things that makeup life in rural India…all all?…work for my good? (I am sure you have your own irks in whatever place you find yourself geographically and emotionally.) Perhaps this is where the gap plays between being divine and being human. I am not my best, most loving self in those situations. But if I were a more divine being, perhaps I would see the moment as a transformative opportunity. (Heaven, apparently, knows I could use more patience-developing situations.) Elder Hartman Rector Jr. explained: “[The] ability to turn everything into something good appears to be a godly characteristic. Our Heavenly Father/ Mother always seems able to do this. Everything, no matter how dire, becomes a victory to the Lord. Joseph, although a slave and wholly undeserving of this fate, nevertheless remained faithful to the Lord and continued to live the commandments and made something very good of his degrading circumstances. People like this cannot be defeated” (in C onference Report, Oct. 1972, 170; or Ensign, Jan. 1973, 130 ). (italics added are mine) So, we are also taught to be grateful for all things. And perhaps these go hand in hand. When I am grateful, I can transform the situation into a more loving moment. Or I can try. And try again. Speaking of trying, the lesson manual also pairs this as the second goal. (2) The power of practicing sexual purity. Growing up, I thought the difficult part of sexual morality was getting through your single life into married life when sexual acts were permissible. I kind of thought it was otherwise a pointless exercise. If you just got through this years then what the point of all that effort? Since then I have learned two things. One from an outside perspective and one from my own. From the outside: A friend who was not a member said that Mormons track record of practicing celibacy was amazing— the very act of practicing become a superpower. As she said, “Mormons have all these muscles built up for later on resisting extramarital affairs or even lapses in self-discipline of all kinds.” Huh. That gave me a new perspective. All of that practice was simply that…practice. Practice building who I am (and who I want to be) so that later I could be the kind of person I want to be. Interesting. From the inside: I had no idea that one of the greatest challenges in married life was in controlling my thoughts. All those years of practice on the sexual morality front is a lot of practice for other thoughts that need controlling now. The stories we tell ourselves will shape our marriage— our marriage will become what we make it in our own heads, first. So, if the story I tell myself is my husband is a generous man and view his behavior through that narrative lens— then he becomes that. If I have the lens that he is a selfish jerk, then all behavior becomes that. Try…and watch your world shift. A happy marriage DEPENDS on being able to control your thoughts in the most divine self-mastery way possible. Perhaps, then, we practice being gods with both #1 and #2— being divine is about the transformative power of self-mastery…from humans to gods.

Gospel Doctrine Old Testament Lesson #12 ;  Genesis 40–41,  Genesis 42–45 . This week we’re deep into Genesis, exploring the lives of Joseph, Pharaoh, and all the early Israelite forbears. I love this somewhat bewildering story of family dysfunction and divine intervention. Decades before his brothers bowed down to him to beg for grain, Joseph dreamed of symbolic stars paying respect to him. This revelation-in-a-dream and its interpretation incensed his brothers so much that they attempted to murder him. Rather than permit him to die, God swept Joseph from Canaan to Egypt, where he served foreign masters for the rest of his youth. We read that these afflictions were fruitful: Joseph’s remarkable spiritual gifts and devotion to the God of Israel saved nations from famine, including his own family, and he and his brothers eventually reconciled. Fruitful affliction is the theme of this lesson. We are asked to engage in a bit of faithful interpretation. In essence, how are we becoming fruitful through our afflictions? We learn these lessons every day in our own individual ways as we trudge through deserts and hostile kingdoms, perhaps estranged from family and home, feeling forsaken, misunderstood, even persecuted. “Do not interpretations belong to God?” Joseph asks, rhetorically. Pharaoh’s butler and baker have come to Joseph with their dreams, claiming “there is no interpreter of it,” while the three are imprisoned in the house of the captain of Pharaoh’s guard. Joseph does not claim to have the interpretation on his own power, but rather to be God’s medium of interpretation. Although Joseph was gifted to interpret the meaning of dreams, we do not get the sense from the scriptures that he could interpret the meaning of his own suffering, to discern the purpose for his pain. Our perspective on our own life journey might be slim. Even if our perspective is expansive, we might still not be able to stretch beyond our current circumstances. Still, we hold out hope that God will reveal the meaning of our experiences in His good time, even if it is decades after the fact that we see reasons in chaos and sense in senseless suffering. Perhaps our life experiences can only truly be interpreted by God, through the gifts of the spirit. We can trust that the breadcrumbs of understanding have been laid throughout our lives, just as they were in Joseph’s. It is only in retrospect that Joseph can look over his life and discern the purpose of his circuitous path. Other than this generally applicable lesson, I want to talk about spiritual gifts, gifts of a kind that have been traditionally associated with men: prophecy, or interpretation of tongues, revelation, dreams, etc. These gifts do not belong to men only. Women are just as qualified and called to see and interpret as men are: “And it shall come to pass in the last days, saith God, I will pour out of my Spirit upon all flesh: and your songs and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams: And on my servants and on my handmaidens I will pour out in those days of my Spirit; and they shall prophesy” (Acts 2:17–18). As women living in a modern era of the gospel, we are especially called to use these gifts. We live in a world in dire need of true interpreters, women and men who can cut through the interference of the airwaves and hear divine truth. Our minds are increasingly open to manipulation and suggestion through the myriad messages we imbibe every day from glowing screens. These spiritual gifts are desperately needed. Women have long been disbelieved, discounted, abused, and gaslighted. Labeled “emotional,” “intuitive,” hysterical, unreliable, exaggerators, perseverators. It is time for women to be believed; those who have ears to hear will listen. The story of Joseph shows that there are false interpreters, false dreams, and false interpretations. Pharaoh’s court had plenty of magicians but only one man who was in tune with God so he could receive the truth. As Latter-day women, we must be attuned to God so we can prophesy. So we can interpret dreams. So we can discern between the true and the false. We have to be prepared to speak boldly, with great assurance, and with confidence in the Lord. The world needs prophetic women who are prepared to stand in places of power and speak truth to that power. Let me close with a few words from Sister Sarah M. Kimball , “The legitimate exercise of spiritual power obtained through the operations of this sense [the spiritual sense] puts the individual in possession of keys of knowledge and clothes him with additional responsibility relating to the enlightenment and elevation of the human family. “They that seek, by faith and earnest prayer, find the light that leads to the golden gate. They that knock with study and faith’s assurance have the narrow way opened to them and are received into communion with the Infinite Father and Mother, are permitted to enter hallowed mansions, to attend the school of the prophets, and by advancing steps, to reach the school of the gods, where they learn the processes by which worlds are organized by the combining of eternal, intelligent, obedient elements; the uses for which worlds are called into existence; the manner in which they are controlled; and the laws of progression by which all beings and animate things are perfected and glorified in their respective spheres.”

Gospel Doctrine Old Testament Lesson #13 ,  Exodus 1–3 ,  Exodus 5–6 ,  Exodus 11–13,  Exodus 14 Exodus is the birth story of a people. Planted in the womb of Egypt, the Hebrew people grew and developed in darkness, without a prophet-father-leader (Pharoah “knew not Joseph”), without freedom. The birth pangs began with locusts and frogs and boils and harder taskmasters and blood—and ended when they finally descended into the Red Sea. A miraculous canal opened before them and they made their narrow passage through it, emerging as a free people united in a common covenant. As a professional who attends women in childbirth, in any typical birth story I would expect to hear something about the women who presided at the birth: the mother, the midwife, the doula, the sister, the grandmother, the friend, the daughter, the angel ancestor. These provide comfort, guidance, sometimes life-saving support, and perhaps just as importantly, celebration. In the Exodus birth story, when the Hebrews have finally made safe passage through the Red Sea, a woman does lead them in celebration and praise (the “Song of the Sea”). And Miriam the prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a timbrel in her hand; and all the women went out after her with timbrels and with dances. And Miriam answered them, Sing ye to the Lord, for he hath triumphed gloriously; the horse and his rider hath he thrown into the sea. [1] (Miriam the prophetess. Say it in your lesson. No distinctly prophetic activity is attributed to Miriam in the Bible, unlike Deborah or Huldah, [2] so either the prophetess designation is anachronistic, or there is something distinctive about Miriam’s prophecy, or we have lost important parts of her story. But the words are there right in our Bible— Miryam ha-neviyah —and so we have every excuse to say them. Miriam the prophetess.) In Egypt, the children of Israel had no prophets, but they had midwives. Two of the bravest women in the Bible show up in this lesson’s verses: Shifrah and Puah, the midwives who defied Pharoah’s order to kill all newborn Hebrew boys. They faced him in person, and made their excuses, at risk of their lives. They were set free to continue their work leading the “Midwives’ Rebellion,” delivering a fresh generation of Hebrew children who would see the promised land, heralding the delivery of their entire people. [3] Without these women leaders, there would have been no Moses. Interestingly, at least one Jewish tradition portrays Miriam as a midwife by trade. [4] Without Miriam, there also would have been no Moses: she is traditionally believed to be the older sister who delivered him to safety in Pharoah’s house and secured his mother to be his nursemaid. These were truly the midwives of a people. We can derive from the Bible some idea of Miriam’s importance as a leader to the nascent people of Israel. The prophet Micah calls upon that people to remember God: For I brought thee up out of the land of Egypt, and redeemed thee out of the house of servants; and I sent before thee Moses, Aaron, and Miriam. [5] God sent her. He sent her before (in front of, preparing the way, leading) His people. According to this verse, at least, Miriam is described in no less important tones than Moses and Aaron—three shepherds to Israel. Miriam’s “Song of the Sea” sets a model for us as women and as a church. We are called to rejoicing, celebration, music-making, psalm-singing, as we are delivered—daily, or generation by generation—from bondage, birth, falsehood, fear, darkness, and eventually death. We as women are integral to that deliverance, whether as mothers or as figurative midwives. We give birth to deliverers. We catch them in our hands. We carry them to safety. We nurse them and raise them. We lead them across the sea. They are our sons and our daughters. [1] Exodus 15:20-21. [2] Burns, Rita. “Miriam,” Anchor Bible Dictionary . New York: Doubleday, 1992. IV p. 870. [3] Exodus 1:15-22. [4] Talmud, Sotah 11b and 12b. [5] Micah 6:4.

Gospel Doctrine Old Testament Lesson #14 ;  Exodus 17:8–13 ;  18:13–26 ;  Exodus 19–20 ;  Exodus 32–34 There were a lot of mind-blowing moments during the 2018 April General Conference. But one of the most mind-blowing for me was when Elder Larry Y. Wilson spoke in the Sunday morning session about personal revelation. He said that many people have misinterpreted the scripture in D&C 58: 26 which reads: “For behold, it is not meet that I should command in all things; for he that is compelled in all things, the same is a slothful and not a wise servant; wherefore he receiveth no reward.” Elder Wilson said that many believe this scripture is saying we should not pray about every single decision, when, in reality, it refers to church members who went to the prophet to receive an answer to a question they had rather than seeking out revelation through personal prayer. I had always been taught that this scripture in the Doctrine and covenants basically meant not to pester the Lord with insignificant questions about mundane things because we had our own will and judgment that we should learn to apply in these situations. Now, I understand that it is the small and simple acts of daily reliance upon the guidance of the Holy Ghost when waters are calm that leads to the much-needed revelation when a typhoon threatens to drown us. In chapters 15, 16, 17 of Exodus, we see how time and again the children of Israel looked to Moses, their prophet for answers to some difficult situations they were facing. They were understandably frightened by the scarcity of both food and water. After having witnessed so many miracles though, it would seem like these people should have had more trust in the Lord. Unfortunately, miracles do not build testimonies, but rather it’s the small and simple things like personal prayer, daily repentance, partaking of the sacrament and scripture study that leads to faith in the Lord and answers to questions. Rather than sustaining Moses in his calling as a prophet and looking to the Lord for the answers to their problems, the children of Israel blamed Moses for their hardships. How often have we fallen into the same trap? When we raise our hands in meetings to sustain our leaders, we are much like Aaron and Hur, holding up Moses’s arms during the Israelite’s battle with Amalek, as Moses held up the rod of God. It is the prophet’s job to show us the rod, the word of God, it is our job to uphold that word. This does not mean blind faith, as Elder Anderson expounded on during the Saturday afternoon session of the same general conference. Rather, we sustain the revelation of our leaders through action based on personal witness, inspiration and direction from the Holy Ghost. If we encounter difficulty in fulfilling the callings we have been given or in understanding the directions that come to us from the church leadership, it is our responsibility to, as President Nelson said , “stretch beyond [our] current spiritual ability to receive personal revelation” (April 2018). The young women of the church, in particular, were called to sustain their leaders by serving church members as part of the new ministry that will replace visiting and home teaching. Just before this announcement, sister Bonnie L. Oscarson said that that “Every young woman in the Church should feel valued, have opportunities to serve and feel that she has something of worth to contribute to this work.” This will be a profound opportunity for young women to strengthen their spiritual confidence as they’re led by the Holy Ghost in living and caring for those in need. Bishops, young women leaders, prophets and apostles can provide young women with opportunities and inspired direction on how to minister, but it is ultimately up to every young woman of this church to pray and to receive a testimony that the words she stands to proclaim every Sunday, “I am a daughter of a heavenly father who loves me and I love him…” are true. Young women along with disciples of all ages and gender who have had a spiritual witness of God’s love for them and their own divinity will not need to be directed in all things, especially when it comes to loving other children of God. In fact, it’s hard to hold someone back from acting on that love once it is spiritually manifested. Personal revelation is the bridge that leads us from hearing the word of God to actually doing it. It makes possible the obedience necessary to allow us into his presence (JST Exodus 34:2).

Gospel Doctrine Old Testament Lesson #15 ;  Numbers 11 ,  Numbers 12 ,  Numbers 13–14 ,  Numbers 21:1–9 After a long Genesis narrative of simple (or not-so-simple) family groups led by patriarchs and matriarchs, we read in the remaining books of Moses of a sprawling and contentious Israelite nation. Like the church of today, Moses’ people were affiliated by belief and covenant rather than immediate family ties. And although Moses admittedly shared bloodlines with his Israelite followers, his complaints to the Lord as he shouldered the heavy burden of leadership are expressed in language that points out his lack of family obligation. He says in Numbers 11:12 “Have I conceived all this people? have I begotten them, that thou shouldest say unto me, Carry them in thy bosom?” Without the close ties of immediate kinship that might make serving the Israelites feel like a necessary duty, Moses instead fulfills a calling that extends his sphere of influence and forces him to learn to love people against his natural inclinations. Isn’t this the essence of church service and organization? As the early model of a fellowship of believers, the wandering Israelites are best known for their faults: their tendency toward power struggles, their despair and disobedience, their lack of trust and faith. Rising above his unruly followers, Moses is the faithful one, the prophet of his dispensation, the one who forges the covenant and is the mouthpiece of the Lord to deliver his law. But when we look closer at his story, we see that Moses spends much of this time trying to figure out how not to the be the only conduit between heaven and earth and how not to be the only bearer of the covenant. He undertakes a strenuous campaign to lessen his own burden of responsibility and to prepare the people to receive and utilize spiritual gifts. And in fact, despite their many failings in this regard, we can learn much from the Israelites’ developing sense of shared spiritual agency. Perhaps the most notable support system for Moses comes from his own family: his siblings, Miriam and Aaron. Many hundreds of years later, Micah refers to them as a kind of triumvirate, three leaders jointly authorized by the Lord: “For I brought thee up out of the land of Egypt, and redeemed thee out of the house of servants; and I sent before thee Moses, Aaron, and Miriam” (Micah 6:4). Aaron stands as Moses’ spokesman and priest. Miriam enters the story in Moses’ infancy, saving his life and setting the course of his destiny. Later, during the exodus from Egypt, she is called a prophetess (Exodus 15:20). They are a potential model of complementary spiritual gifts. But more help is needed than what Aaron and Miriam can offer in leading the people, and Moses’ pleadings to the Lord on this subject are finally answered when God directs him to find seventy elders of the community: “I will come down and talk with thee there: and I will take of the spirit which is upon thee, and will put it upon them; and they shall bear the burden of the people with thee, that thou bear it not thyself alone.” (Numbers 11:17). When two of these elders later demonstrate this spiritual gift by prophesying in the camp, some of the people are scandalized to see “rival” prophets and hurry to report the offense to Moses. His response is a gentle rebuke:“Enviest thou for my sake? would God that all the Lord’s people were prophets, and that the Lord would put his spirit upon them!” (Numbers 11:29) Moses’ call to prophetic leadership may have come when he spoke with the Lord face-to-face, but his wisdom and prophetic understanding are also clearly demonstrated in his longing for his people to lead and minister to each other. Moses had no desire for solitary spiritual leadership but for a spiritually empowered community. This vision was common in the early days of the church, as expressed by Joseph Smith and the early missionaries and apostles. In 1841, Sydney Rigdon described the qualities of a true body of Christian believers as: “a host of inspired men and women— prophets and prophetesses, healings, miracles, and the gifts of the Holy Ghost, not only in one church, but in all the churches” Doesn’t this describe the fulfillment of Moses’ wish? How then can we bear the burdens of the people as Moses envisioned? Can we do this by seeking the spirit, by accepting callings and the spiritual power that those callings allow us to exercise? Can we also fulfill this through ministering, a call which requires crucial gifts of inspiration and strength? And is there really anything more spiritually empowered than this call to minister? When Eliza R. Snow described the goals of the first assigned visiting teachers, she asked that each woman “should surely have so much of the Spirit of the Lord, as she enters a house to know what spirit she meets in there…Plead before God and the Holy Ghost to get [the Spirit] so that you will be able to meet that spirit that prevails in that house…and you may feel to talk words of peace and comfort, and if you find a sister feeling cold, take her to your heart as you would a child to your bosom and warm [her] up.” Functioning as we do within complex social structures of our sometimes contentious wards, stakes, and general church body, we can take lessons from the Israelites of Moses’ day. We can do our part to fulfill Moses’ prophetic desire. We can be a people who receive the Lord’s spirit. And with those spiritual gifts, we can get to work, bearing the burdens of our people.

Gospel Doctrine Old Testament Lesson #16 ;  Numbers 22 ;  Numbers 31. I was sitting across from a man, I had only met a few hours before, when I was told, “this will be your life.” The phrase printed across the inside of my forehead like a divine flashing marquee. It was so clearly inspiration (and unusual delivery) that it was unmistakable. But I am sometimes a writer, and I knew that I had a divine grammar problem. “This” is supposed to modify something. I was missing a noun. So, “This_____?” This what? What would be my life? This man? This place? This…what? There were no more messages from God. A few minutes later, I found out that the man in front of me was married. Obviously, the answer was not that he was going to be my life. Fast forward a few years later, and I married him. He was divorced by then; this is not a treatise on polygamy. Now, I don’t tell you this to be sensational. I tell you this, so you understand why getting through those years was so impossibly challenging. I was raised and followed Mormonism. I took vows of family and fidelity seriously. Of course! I refused to even be pen pals with him. It took years of weekly fasting and the most desperate and humble prayers I’d ever offered to get me through that period of time. I had to be SURE I was on God’s path— because every other side of me looked like a slippery slope into a gaping chasm of gnashing of teeth. The cognitive dissonance between what I believed and what the answers to prayers told me to do was shattering my brain. It was the closest I had ever felt to God and simply one of the most awful times of my life. But, in reviewing this week’s lesson manual, I just had to laugh. A talking donkey? An angel with sword raised to strike? I would call that rather sensational. And, truly, isn’t God more sensational than we can possibly imagine? A scene from Bruce, Almighty (yes, the movie—) teaches a rich lesson. And you are probably thinking you would never have expected Jim Carey to make it to a Sunday School supplement, but bear with me. In this scene, Jim doesn’t believe that Morgan Freeman is God. Understandable, for so many reasons. And so he decides to test God. He hides his fingers behind his back and makes God name how many he is holding up. He flashes faster and faster and God, of course, keeps up. And then Jim flashes his whole fist and God calmly says, “Seven.” Jim triumphantly pushes his hand out to God to show him that five fingers are raised— and screams. Because, now, he has seven fingers. The thing about this scene is we all know we have five fingers, of course, we do. We know that donkey’s don’t talk. And we know that you don’t marry people who are already married. The Title of Lesson 16 is “I Cannot Go Beyond the Word of the Lord”— but the ultimate reality is that the Lord’s word goes waaaay beyond us. Sometimes, I think we try to put God in a box and say we will only follow what makes sense to us. We know we’ve got five fingers. We know that while learning about God’s nature is helpful, I think we need to be clear— we are NOT God. Their ways are not our ways. I think when we are faced with God’s direction, sometimes we react like Balaam and curse and metaphorically kick our ass. At one point in time during my bizarre courtship, I actually came to God in frustration. I wouldn’t say I was cursing per say, but I was definitely in the category of not-so-humble- “Why, oh why did it have to be this way? Why couldn’t it be sensible? And beautiful? Why did it have to be demanding and sometimes ugly? I have been faithful and served You— is it too much to ask that this be a kinder path?” I was upset. The answer that came back has stayed with me as an eternal lesson- “Yes, I could have done it that way. And you would have gotten your husband. This way, you got ME and your husband.” Sometimes the process is the point. In fact, in eternal progression it always is. The manual states that the intent of the lesson is to encourage us to “submit to God without hesitation.” I waited years before I would believe that I was to marry my now-husband. I think that falls within the definition of hesitating. But I also know that whatever the submission to God demands of us, it is worth it…and probably more grand than anything we had ever imagined.

Gospel Doctrine Old Testament Lesson #17 ;  Deuteronomy 6:1–9 ;  11:18–21 ;  Deuteronomy 6:10–12 ;  8:1–20 ;  Deuteronomy 32:1–4, 15–18, 30–40, 45–47 . I have a friend, who is not LDS, with whom I enjoy having spiritual and doctrinal discussions. The other day, she was inquiring about some aspect or other of how I live my life as a Mormon when she stated, “Christianity has lost its way. It’s not Christianity when people go to church on Sunday and then cuss out people who disagree with them the rest of the week.” I couldn’t agree more! I didn’t have to tell her that as Mormons we strive to live up to the covenants we make every Sunday as we partake of the sacrament and promise to “always remember him” and “always have his spirit to be with (us).” I didn’t have to tell her that in the temple one of the first promises we make is to live the law of the gospel, mindful of our baptismal covenant to take upon us the name of Christ. I didn’t have to say any of this because she already sees me as an example of how Mormon women live their faith. She knows what we believe because I am unique among her friends and also because of how much my conversation and lifestyle contradict her previous education on Mormon women (she did her post-graduate work at the Graduate Theological Union in Berkeley). I’m not saying this to extol my virtues or set myself up as anything more than your average Mormon, doing her best to live what she has been taught. What I’d like to illustrate here is we have been instructed much like the Israelites in the book if Deuteronomy to love God, follow his commandments and teach these things to our children. What is, perhaps slightly different, is the way in which we remember his love for us and display our faith. We are not required to hang mezuzahs on the lintels of our doors or wear phylacteries on our hands and foreheads as the Hebrews were told to in Deuteronomy 6:8 . Our adherence to our beliefs is not so obvious, unless, like my friend, you have the eyes to see ( Deut 29:4 ). Mormon women are unique, not because of any great conscious effort on our part to make ourselves different from the rest of the world, but rather it is the small and simple ways in which we chose to remember God each day that build a peculiar life ( Alma 37:6 ). We prioritize our time differently when we choose to go to institute, have family home evening, attend church for three hours every Sunday and perform church service throughout the week. We budget our finances keeping in mind that 10% of what we earn doesn’t belong to us. Decisions about education and career are molded by the knowledge that family is an eternal institution central to our happiness and that we might be donating a year or two out of our lives to teach the gospel in another part of the world. Similar to the ancient Israelites, we do wear reminders of our covenants with God, but unseen, underneath our clothing, and this determines which styles we wear and how we appear. Like our garments, it is often the unseen unnoteworthy efforts we make to remember him that most represent what it is to have the Lord’s word written in our hearts ( Deut 6:6 ). While these acts of obedience may go unnoticed and unheralded, or even ridiculed, by the world, they produce such blessed fruits in our lives as to be not only noticeable but even desirable to those who seek God’s love ( 1Nephi 8:10 ). It is through these small and simple acts of remembrance that the Lord has and will bring about his great promised blessings to establish his kingdom and lead us safely to the promised land.

Gospel Doctrine Old Testament Lesson #18 ,  Joshua 1 ;  Joshua 3–4 ;  6 ;  Joshua 23 ;  24:14–31 . You cannot tell the story of Jericho, critical to Joshua’s prophetic narrative, without a woman—Rahab[1]. I particularly like this story because it complicates our assumptions and judgments of others and remind us that though women may be a minority in scripture they always enter the narrative at critical junctures. Rahab was considered a “Woman of Valor” in Jewish Midrashim. Her name means “to be wide or enlarge”—perhaps a shortened version of “God has enlarged.” The children of Israel could not have entered the promised land without her. Her story reminds us that God is no respecter of persons, that God’s grace can transform all of us, and that no matter our past we can extend the same salvation we have received to others and help lead them to the promised land. We can all become “saviours on Mt. Zion” ( Obad. 1:21 ). Rahab lived on the margins of Jericho’s society and Jericho itself. The city boasted of two walls of protection and her house was attached to the most outside wall of the city. Her flat roof provided storage for flax (which she might have spun into that salvific scarlet rope) as well as a convenient hiding place for spies. Be sure not to miss the comedic elements of the narrative—the hero of the story is not actually a hero at all by Israelite cultural ideals. A woman could never be the hero. Yet our antihero is not only a woman, but a Canaanite, an owner of her own public house, and a member of the “world’s most ancient profession”—a harlot or prostitute. Some have tried to say she was not a prostitute at all, but the Hebrew zonah used here consistently denotes illicit sexual relations. I come from a long line of women who have done what they needed to do to care for their families—this did not mean that they were always right or exempt from the judgment of others. Discomfort is essential to the narrative. As the new-minted leader of Israel, Joshua sent spies to assess their position as Moses had done with him—however, these spies sent to Jericho were not nearly as effective as Joshua and Caleb. They arrive in Jericho and enter into Rahab’s public house. The narrative is immediately subverted as the bungling spies are found out within two verses. The King’s Guard knows exactly where they are and confront Rahab. Countering our own assumptions about such a woman, she misdirects king’s guard and sends them far away. After surprising us, she finds the “spies” on the roof and stuns us again as she offers her powerful and prophetic witness of Jehovah: I know that the LORD hath given you the land, and that your terror is fallen upon us, and that all the inhabitants of the land faint because of you. For we have heard how the LORD dried up the water of the Red sea for you, when ye came out of Egypt; and what ye did unto the two kings of the Amorites, that were on the other side Jordan, Sihon and Og, whom ye utterly destroyed. And as soon as we had heard these things, our hearts did melt, neither did there remain any more courage in any man, because of you: for the LORD your God, he is God in heaven above, and in earth beneath ( Joshua 2:9-11 ). She prophesies that the Israelites will be successful. When the spies later report, they quote her witness to Joshua. She then asks for a “true token” from the spies—a sign of loyalty. The woman from who we don’t expect loyalty offered it and now is vulnerable. She who has protected and cared for her family as well as these strangers now asks the strangers to offer her and all who she protects the same—to “deliver our lives from death” ( Joshua 2:12 ). After they made an oath with her, she let her scarlet rope over the city wall to bring freedom to these models of spycraft ineptitude. Her scarlet rope offered salvation and, despite their idiocy, the bumbling spies were reciprocally given an opportunity to participate in the salvific work. They too could transform into saviours on Mt. Zion. As well as a signal to the sufficiency of the grace of God for all, Rahab also serves as a type for Christ in the narrative. This woman on the edge of society—figuratively and literally—offered salvation. The discomfort with our antihero highlights the enlarging and expansive theme of salvation. Salvation comes from the unexpected—from one with “no form nor comeliness.” Yet Christ saves all who come unto him no matter if they be guilty of serious sin or just bumbling idiots. As a believer in the God of Israel, Rahab could accept the salvific offering on her own behalf and then share salvation with others as a saviour on Mt. Zion. Her discipleship comes full circle as she trusts in the loyalty of the spies and offers them the opportunity to likewise join in the work of salvation and save her family. The scarlet rope signaled the encompassing salvation offered, accepted, and shared. [1] There are at least 2 different Rahabs in scripture—one is deified sea-monster purveyor of chaos in Jewish folklore closely connected to Babylonian creation narratives (Isaiah 27:1, 51:9—2 Nephi 8:9, and Psalm 89:10) and the other is a Canaanite woman who saves the Israelite spies (Joshua 2, Heb 11:31, James 2:25)—here we are concerned with the latter. In reference to the former, Rahab is also used as a pejorative for Egypt.

Gospel Doctrine Old Testament Lesson #19 ;  Judges 2:6–23 ;  Judges 4:1–16 ;  Judges 6–7 ;  Judges 13–16 . Years ago, I was part of a group of mothers who met together once a month to have an evening away from family, have fun, and talk about life. All of the women were Christian, not all were Mormon. Often we would come up with a discussion topic for the evening to help us get to know one another better and get through life better. When discussing how to get through a problem with children or get through a tough personal moment, one of the non-Mormon women would always talk about her relationship with Jesus Christ and how she leaned on Him for support. She also praised Him when she could see His hand in her life. Inevitably, every time this happened, I was filled with a little bit of guilt, because my answers and thoughts had gone to other places, like leaning on my husband or friends, or praising others for their help in my life. Over the ensuing years that this woman and I have been friends, she has taught me about the power of praising God and continually looking for His goodness in my life. Deborah is an example of a woman who looks to the Lord and praises him when she sees His hand in her life. Her narrative starts as the Lord inspires her, as a prophetess and judge, to guide Barak to fight the Canaanites. Barak asks her to go with the army. She does and is pivotal to their success in battle. When the armies are feeling afraid, Deborah is the one who cries the rallying cry of, “Up; for this is the day in which the Lord hath delivered Sisera into thine hand: is not the Lord gone out before thee?” ( Judges 4:14 ). The army sets out, wins the battle, and eventually, Sisera is killed with the help of Jael (another woman who is not an Israelite). Judges chapter 5 is a song of praise and storytelling for Deborah and Barak to sing together. I imagine this is like being at a family reunion listening to people retelling stories of growing, being together, and important moments. But not only are Deborah and Barak retelling the story, they are praising the Lord for His goodness. In verse 3, they call everyone to pay attention, “Hear, O ye kings; give ear, O ye princes; I, even I, will sing unto the Lord; I will sing praise to the Lord God of Israel.” They continue their story and at the end of the retelling. they praise the Lord once more. “So let all thine enemies perish, O Lord: but let them that love him be as the sun when he goeth forth in his might” (Verse 31). There is something about the word praise that brings happiness. I can’t think of ways to praise that don’t involve joy. Adding praise of God and others to our lives can make us feel better. Occasionally, my seven-year-old daughter will have moments where she gets in a downward spiral and when one thing goes wrong, the whole world quickly goes wrong. To get her out of this downward track, I’ve been making her say five good things about her day. I’m not always sure she’s seeing the results in her life, but she’s learned enough to know that this habit is generally good for everyone. This evening, I was at the end of my rope with my three-year-old. She had dumped shampoo all over the floor, eaten a bunch of vitamins, and then thrown up the vitamins (which poison control said might happen). I was starting to get really frustrated when my seven-year-old reminded me to say five nice things. It was a good reminder. When thinking of all the good and positive about my youngest daughter, I wasn’t so overwhelmed with the hard moments. When we are praising and looking for the good around us negativity disappears. This is why God gives us the commandments to be grateful and praise Him. He knows when we look for the good and are grateful our lives are put into better focus where the battles aren’t as hard because He is on our side.

Gospel Doctrine Old Testament Lesson #20 ;  Ruth 1–2 ;  Ruth 3–4 ;  1 Samuel 1 ;  2:1–2, 20–21 . After the pattern of Girls Who Choose God: Stories of Courageous Women From the Bible , by McArthur Krishna and Bethany Brady Spalding. ORPAH AND RUTH Orpah and Ruth both grew up in Moab and eventually fell in love with two brothers, Mahlon and Chilian, who moved with their parents from Bethlehem. The brothers’ father passed away, and the two couples married soon after. They all lived together in Moab for about ten years, with Mahlon and Chilian’s bereaved mother, Naomi. During that time, the daughters-in-law grew very close to their mother-in-law. More sorrow came to the family when Mahlon and Chilian joined their father in death and Orpah and Ruth joined Naomi as widows. There was a famine in Moab, and without their husbands, the three women struggled to get enough food. Naomi heard it might be easier in Bethlehem, so the women packed up their belongings and began traveling there together. At some point in their journey, Naomi turned to her daughters-in-law and said, “My dear girls, go. Go home to your mothers. I pray that the Lord will be kind to you, as you have been kind to my sons and to me. May the Lord let you find rest.” She kissed them and they spoke and wept, “Of course we’ll go with you to your family.” Naomi answered that she was too old to marry and have children. Who would be their husbands? Again she said, “Go.” Again the daughter-in-laws wept. Orpah and Ruth had a choice to make. They could stay with their beloved mother-in-law, Naomi, or they could return to live with their own mothers and families. Orpah had loved her husband, Mahlon, fiercely and greatly mourned his death. She also loved his mother, Naomi, and was concerned about her wellbeing. Still, Orpah felt called to return to her own mother and the faith of her childhood. She sobbed and sobbed as she kissed Naomi and Ruth goodbye. Similarly, Ruth had loved her husband, Chilion, fiercely and greatly mourned his death. She also loved his mother, Naomi, and was concerned about her wellbeing. She missed her own mother but felt called to stay with Naomi and to claim her faith as her own. After kissing her sister-in-law goodbye, Ruth hugged her mother-in-law tightly and cried, “Please don’t ask me to leave you or to stop following you. Wherever you go, I will go. Wherever you sleep, I will sleep. Your family will be my family and your God my God.” When have you had to make a hard choice? How did you listen to the voice inside you and the whisperings of the spirit to do what was right for you? HANNAH Hannah was married to a kind and faithful man named Elkanah, who was also married to a woman named Penninah. Hannah longed to have children but was not able to do so, while Penninah had many. This was sensitive for Hannah, especially because Penninah used the situation to be unkind. Once a year, Elkanah took his family to worship at the temple. Each year, Hannah would fast, and weep, and pray, from a mixture of faith, and sadness, and desire. One year, Elkanah saw her. He asked, “Why are you crying? And why are you going without food? Why is your heart grieved? Aren’t I better to you than ten sons?” He was good to her, but she was still sad. Hannah had a choice to make. She could continue to pour her heart out to the Lord in prayer and fasting at the temple or she could put on a false smile and pretend that she was fine. Hannah chose to be honest with herself and with the Lord. She was not afraid of her bitter soul, or that as she continued to pray, she “wept sore.” She knew, as Chieko Okazaki shared for our time, “The Lord doesn’t want just pretty prayers. He wants real prayers. Sometimes we think of those eloquent, gracious prayers in sacrament meeting and General Conference as the models for our personal prayers…. Heavenly Father wants to hear the scared and mad prayers just as much as he wants to hear the grateful prayers.” So Hannah prayed, so sincerely and fervently that the priest thought that she was drunk. (She also chose to make a vow to God, which in her case–but might not be in ours–was ultimately fulfilled.) When have you chosen to open your heart and pray honestly to God?

Gospel Doctrine Old Testament Lesson #21 ;  1 Samuel 2:12–17, 22–25 ;  1 Samuel 2:27–36 ;  3:12–14 ;  1 Samuel 3 ;  1 Samuel 8 I have a vivid missionary memory — swooping along on my Graziella bicycle, coat buttoned tight against the Brenta valley fog, and sending up to the Lord what felt like a last-effort mental prayer, “I don’t know what I’m doing, but I’m here. At least I’m here.” There have been many times that I’ve felt at my wit’s end mentally and spiritually, but that prayer was a turning point in my faith, a moment when I acknowledged both my weakness and my commitment. Despite my doubts and uncertainties, I still wanted to stand with Christ, even if my accomplishments were imperfect and my motives sometimes muddled or selfish. I wasn’t always good at strategies and checklists, but I wanted to live deeply and spiritually, to love the places and people I encountered, to understand my purpose and have hope for the future. In that moment, I didn’t purposely reference Samuel’s first conversation with God, but I’ve since recognized his simple words in my own brief prayer. Young Samuel heard the voice of the Lord and answered, “Here am I.” He didn’t understand who was speaking, but he was present and listening. After learning from Eli whose voice he had actually heard, and after repeating and re-directing his answer to the Lord, Samuel was ready to receive divine revelation and with it a call to prophecy and leadership ( 1 Samuel 3 ). Like Samuel, we can all be in conversation with God. And Samuel’s dialogic learning process can become a model for our own divine dialogues. His simple conversation shows two crucial components: 1. Will Samuel’s prayer was a free offering of his will, a listening stance, a readiness to hear and follow. Samuel ended up doing many important things: anointing two kings and uttering powerful prophecies. But this early moment shows his heart. The child Samuel didn’t need to say or know very much, it was his willing readiness to be present in the conversation that counted. 2. Recognition with the help of his teacher, Eli, Samuel was learning to recognize the quiet prompting voice of divine inspiration. Part of that process of recognition was also identifying and locating himself in relation to divinity. Samuel shows us that a simple spiritual self-acknowledgement is the starting point of godly covenants and that only a conscious recognition of both God and oneself makes it possible to align ourselves with God. But Samuel’s story also makes me think of my father. My father loved Bible stories and sayings, and he had a mischievous way of remembering biblical phrases during everyday life and making references that his kids didn’t always catch. Sometimes when we were little and would call out to him from our beds at night, wanting a drink of water or to be tucked in, he would walk into our bedrooms and say, “here am I.” We’d wonder why he sounded so old-fashioned and then realize much later that he was answering a nighttime call with cheerful willingness and remembering the story of Samuel. Samuel offers us a model for our prayers with God, but his childlike willingness and readiness can be a model for our human interactions just as profoundly. I didn’t have a perfect father. He was flawed and couldn’t solve all of our problems, but he was there. He was a loving presence in our lives, and that made all the difference. My father’s simple “I’m here” helped us know he loved his children and gave us comfort and courage in our times of need. And so the same components of Samuel’s prayer can also be applied to our interactions with others. We can use our free will to be present, acknowledging that we play a part in the lives of our fellow human beings, recognizing that our mission in life is to see one other for the divine beings that we are. This mission is perhaps most deeply felt within families, but it is just as real in our interactions with neighbors, members of our congregations, co-workers and classmates, or strangers. In our Samuel-like interactions with others, sometimes we may be the ones that call out in the night. Sometimes we may the ones who answer. The conversation doesn’t have to be complicated or busy or solve everyone’s problems, it just has to happen with love. In the October 2017 General Conference, Bonnie L. Oscarson reminded us of the needs of others that inevitably surround us. Speaking to the young people of the church, Sister Oscarson said, “I have seen and felt of your desires to serve and make a difference in the world. I believe that most members consider service to be at the heart of their covenants and discipleship. But I also think that sometimes it’s easy to miss some of the greatest opportunities to serve others because we are distracted or because we are looking for ambitious ways to change the world and we don’t see that some of the most significant needs we can meet are within our own families, among our friends, in our wards, and in our communities. We are touched when we see the suffering and great needs of those halfway around the world, but we may fail to see there is a person who needs our friendship sitting right next to us in class.” What does it take to recognize those needs, to see others as we should? Like Samuel, we need to be present, not distracted. We need to be willing, not putting off opportunities to love others in anticipation of some glamourous or momentous occasion. We need to be there.

Gospel Doctrine Old Testament Lesson #22 ;  1 Samuel 9–11 .  1 Samuel 13:1–14 ,  1 Samuel 15 ,  1 Samuel 16 ,  1 Samuel 17 . “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths” ( Proverbs 3:5-6. ) I learned an eternal lesson about trusting God’s plan over my own perspective. But, I also think that injunction is only half the battle. OF COURSE we should trust in the Lord. Our own human understanding is limited— inherently myopic when judging only from the angle of our human experience. However, we can’t just throw in the towel either. The real goal is that we, as nascent gods, develop perfect understanding. If we are to be like our Heavenly Parents, we must practice seeing as They see. Then how to go about developing perfect god-like understanding? I live in India where the model of raising children is very different. A colleague once told me of his current situation— his father was in the hospital and he wanted his son to take over the management of the family. The trick was, as my colleague told me, he had never made an important decision in his life. I was dumbfounded. He was about 35— whatever did he mean he had never made an important decision? He clarified, “I didn’t decide where to go to university. I didn’t decide what to study. I didn’t decide who to marry. I have never bought a house or a car.” Wow. Now, I don’t tell this story to install feelings of cultural superiority. I tell it to draw an analogy. While we need to NOT lean unto our own understanding and disregard God, we MUST actually practice learning to function as a god would. What does this mean? Developing gods means we have to learn to have perfect understanding and this takes practice. Probably more than this lifetime, but let’s work with what we’ve got. And while there are many proactive ways to develop, today I want to consider the ways I inadvertently curtail my growth. How do I (and maybe you) curtail spiritual growth? 1- Perhaps we defer. Years ago (this has since changed) a friend said she had deferred to her husband a decision since he had priesthood. She understood that we have been taught that men and women are equal partners and take decisions together— but somehow she just defaulted into this. You may not do this. But in what ways do we defer seeking for spiritual understanding in order to enlighten our decisions? Who do we defer to? Now, there are times when something is not our stewardship and it is appropriate to defer. But I think there are other times when we defer simply out of habit, laziness or fear of responsibility. Perhaps we just defer to our own understanding, rather than seeking divine perspective. Perhaps we defer to logic or the press of time. Perhaps we defer to tradition. Perhaps we defer to the reality of the circumstances (hard to pay tithing when you can’t make ends meet already)— when really we know that our Heavenly Parents work in ultimate reality rather than just temporary reality I think of being a God as being the Ultimate Being of Responsibility, and that means we don’t defer our spiritual growth. 2- Perhaps we don’t even seek.We are told to seek God in all things. But, I admit, I tent to only bother the master of the universe when it is big. And then, recently, I heard a talk where the woman jokingly asked whether we thought God only had a limited bandwidth. Like the omnipotent being in the universe could only handle so much. That made me re-think my default behavior. And, perhaps that’s not even the point. The point is that when I practice asking God, when I am having the humility to ask, then I am not only (*only*) building a relationship with deity, but I am also developing the ability to see from a god-like perspective. I am asking to develop my perfect understanding. 3- Perhaps we don’t trust.Perhaps we find ourselves in a place where it is difficult to trust God. Where, simply, it is easier to leave our Heavenly Parents out of our lives rather than face the fact that we feel betrayed. Or we feel unsafe with the paths they have led us on. Perhaps we don’t trust ourselves— that we can actually get answers to questions or handle the answers that come. Developing perfect understanding demands trust in the learning process. And that can be tough. 4-Perhaps we don’t teach our children.I think our Heavenly Parents constantly are teaching us. We have been told that all experiences work for our good. I think this means that everything we experience is part of our ultimate growth and development, which, I think, means we have some very energetic Heavenly Parents. I, on the other hand, have times when I am just too worn to teach. When I let opportunities go by to put out the oomph it takes to love and teach my children. Not only does that curtail their growth, but it curtails my own as well. The key pedagogy of life should be— how do we build a relationship with God so that we can practice becoming more godlike? If I am to become divine, then I need to continue to develop my parenting attributes. 5- Perhaps we judge.I think one of the ways I curtail my perfect understanding is by judge others. We are told that God looks on the heart. I think that must be a key method of having perfect understanding. If we want to develop this same divine understanding, then we must practice not judging people based on their outward appearance, behavior or circumstances. I think I am better at giving strangers the benefit of the doubt over some of those I know and love best. 6- Perhaps we think short term or even get mired in the current reality.Simply, the way things are is not necessarily the way things should be. And, the challenges we suffer now are not the sum of our lives. If we despair in the moment, then we are not seeing the long-term or even considering there is an eternal view. Our Heavenly Parents see in terms of eternity – not something I am very good at. 7- We spin into negative.My sister-in-law recently posted to our family group a lesson she had learned at Liberty Jail. Joseph is not only suffering in jail but he is mourning the suffering of the Saints as well. God’s response is to tell Joseph to “garnish” his thoughts “unceasingly” ( D&C 121:45 ). As my sister-in-law said, if we dwell on the virtuous then we have the energy to handle the rest. Now, I don’t have to handle jails and midwest blizzards. I have my own set of personal dungeons, but I think that’s an important point in not curtailing our spiritual growth. If we slide (and stay) in the negative, we can’t grow — we’re stuck. I have shared with you a lot of the ways I curtail my growth. I am sure there are more. But, I think the challenge is that this week, I pick one. Maybe you could pick one too. Let’s find one way that we can make sure our time this week is spent in expansive ways. How can we practice our imperfect but important-to-develop perfect understanding? Lets practice being divine.