You Guys! Check Out This Podcast!

So, if you’ve spoken to me recently, you may have gotten an earful about this podcast I’m just loving. The Neal A. Maxwell Institute for Religious Scholarship Podcast. I know what you’re thinking – What the heck is that? 

Well, it’s the podcast arm of the Maxwell Institute for Religious Scholarship, out of BYU. The host, Blair Hodges, interviews religious scholars about their work—scholars who research and write academically about religion from all kinds of angles and from various faiths.

Since it comes out of BYU, it might be tempting to think that the podcast episodes could be glorified Sunday School lessons or something. But, oh, they’re so much not. They feel like really good university class discussions, and they often hit that sweet spot between being intellectually stimulating and faith-building at the same time. The subtitle of the podcast sums it up nicely: Where top-tier scholars help increase religious literacy and understanding.

Some of Blair Hodge’s guests on the podcast are LDS scholars, though many are not. I have especially loved exploring the crucifixion with a Jesuit priest, getting a new take on some parables from a Jewish New Testament scholar, dipping a toe into the Quran with the editors of a new translation, among others. There are also interviews with LDS scholars about Mormonism in culture, politics, science, church history, and on and on. Ultimately, experiencing such varied topics from researchers with such different backgrounds—all of which inform and strengthen my own faith—puts me in mind of Maya Angelou’s words: We are more alike, my friends, than we are unalike. 

I know that academic scholarship isn't everyone’s cup of tea, but it is mine. I love it. I miss classes and lectures and interesting ideas and theoretical discussions. And even writing papers, sometimes. I’m weird. I’ll own that. That said, if this seems like something you’d like to listen to, below are links to a handful of my favorites to get you started. Though I fully expect you’ll find your own (and different) favorites.

You know, I’m a pretty low key person most of the time. There’s not a lot of stuff that I feel like I get really passionate or worked up about. Apparently, exploring the ideas and implications of faith and religion through thought-provoking academic discussion is one of those things for me. If it’s one of those things for you, too—check out the Maxwell Institute Podcast. You’ll be glad you did. And if you do, and if you love it, give me a call and we can geek out about fascinating religious scholarship together! 

• The Sin of Certainty
• The Seven Last Words of Jesus
• Grace Is Not God’s Backup Plan
• Reconceiving Infertility in the Bible
• Terryl & Fiona Givens on Faith, Doubt and The God Who Weeps
• The End of Apologetics
• The Parables of Jesus
• The Printer's Maunscript of the Book of Mormon
• Job Through the Ages

Lucky Us

Hamilton, you guys. Hamilton. If you like music, or musicals, or American history, or enthralling story-telling, go listen. Lin-Manuel Miranda is, I’m pretty sure, a genius. There are rhymes that I love and lines that are beautiful. There are touching and tender moments, as well as “Oh, what did you just do?!” moments. And there are spots that make me weep. It’s just – good. But this post isn’t about Hamilton. Not really. It’s about one line from the soundtrack:

Look around, look around, at how lucky we are to be alive right now!

Every time I hear that line, I’m moved. Something deep in my being echoes it, believes it, feels it. Every time. It’s an undeniable feeling that somewhere in my soul I absolutely do believe I’m lucky to be alive right now.

The line gets repeated throughout the show, in very different circumstances, none of them perfect. In fact, it first shows up toward the beginning, when young men and women are gathered and talking about (among other things) the revolution. The American Revolution. About bloodshed and death and war, in their home and on their shores. It's not a pleasant prospect, and yet they repeat it: Look around, look around, at how lucky we are to be alive right now! 

I honestly haven’t been able to figure out why that line has resonated with me so deeply. I’m not one to get super passionate about current events or politics, at least not in the most traditional ways. I don’t relish living through history – in fact, I’ve often said I really, really want a history textbook from 50 years in the future so I can know how it all turns out, know what matters and what’s not worth getting riled up about. History is messy. Living it is messier.

I don't really like messy. And yet, there’s this line echoing in my soul.  Look around, look around, at how lucky we are to be alive right now!

And so, in the last little while, at times when the world seems to be at odds with itself, when chaos threatens and violence looms and politicians… do whatever it is politicians do (politate? Yeah. I like that. When politicians politate), I’m holding on to the moments when my heart and my mind and my being (via Lin-Manuel Miranda’s words) have reminded me that yes, right now is indeed a good time to be around. Lucky us!

*Above is the whole song the Look around line comes from, but if I've created this link correctly, it should start on the line in question. Listen through the end. Then listen to the whole thing. Then buy the soundtrack. #HamiltonPlug

Always My Mom

Kids ask why. A lot. Why? No idea. But they do. I did. And when I was young, my mother’s standard answer was usually, “Because I’m the mom.” Now, this wasn’t a dictatorial “do as I say or else” sort of response on her part. She was simply explaining that because of her role as the mother, it was, in fact, her job to make such decisions. And that was as much of an answer as we were ever going to get as to why we couldn’t, for example, run through the sprinklers in early March or have Cookie Crisp for every meal.

While I remember this standard answer from my childhood, I don’t remember the follow up she says she often gave—which was, “When you’re the mom, you can decide.” My parenting experience (which pretty much consists of a host of online articles I’ve read for fun, so I know what I’m talking about here, totally) makes me believe this was a good move. She wasn’t taking my power, see? She wasn’t exerting control at the expense of my budding autonomy. She was simply taking her turn. And I’d get my turn. It was all very fair, this world my mom created for us.

One day though, the story goes, my mom made the standard pronouncement at whatever typical 3-year-old “why” question I’d asked: “Because I’m the mom. When you’re the mom, you can decide.” And I responded to her something like, “Ok, when I’m the mom and you’re the kid, I'll choose.” 

"When you're the kid"—come again? Apparently I took the “taking turns” idea pretty literally as a kid! It does make some logical sense, though. Clearly there were two roles (mom and kid) and two people (me and mom), so when it was my turn to be the mom, we’d just switch. Obviously. I mean, it’s not that complicated, people! (This is where 3-year-old me puts her hands on her hips and stomps a foot in your general direction.)

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!

My response makes me laugh every time I hear about it. Kid-misconceptions are awesome, and I love hearing this 

one of mine. I’m sure it’s not so unusual for a kid not to have figured out the whole family generational structure thing (I had a young cousin who declared he was going to be the Grandpa to his oldest sister’s new baby, so… yeah). Still, I love that I somehow didn’t 

get it, that my mom would always be the mom. Always.

And, I’ve got to say, all these years later I’m super glad she is. Still. And always will be. My mom.