Bound
by Loving Ties
By Elder
Jeffrey R. Holland of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles
The
following is the text from the address Elder Jeffrey R. Holland of the Quorum
of the Twelve Apostles gave during the 2016 BYU Campus Education Week
devotional on August 16, 2016, in Provo, Utah.
One of my
BYU professors of yesteryear—actually quite a few yesteryears—was Edward L.
Hart, who wrote the text of a much loved hymn in the Church. The second verse
of that hymn, Our Savior’s Love, reads this
way:
The Spirit,
voice
Of goodness, whispers to our hearts
A better choice
Than evil’s anguished cries.
Loud may the sound
Of hope ring till all doubt departs,
And we are bound
To him by loving ties.1
Of goodness, whispers to our hearts
A better choice
Than evil’s anguished cries.
Loud may the sound
Of hope ring till all doubt departs,
And we are bound
To him by loving ties.1
An omnibus
word familiar to us all that summarizes these “loving ties” to our Heavenly
Father is religion. Scholars debate the etymology of that word just
as scholars and laymen alike debate almost everything about the subject of
religion, but a widely accepted account of its origin suggests that
our English word “religion” comes from the Latin word religare, meaning
to “tie,” or more literally, to “re-tie.”2 In that root syllable of ligare you
can hear the echo of a word like ligature, which is what a doctor
uses to sew us up if we have a wound. So, for our purpose today, “religion” is
that which unites what was separated or holds together that which might be torn
apart, an obvious need for us, individually and collectively, given trials and
tribulations we all experience here in mortality.
I see the goal here to
establish a black or white narrative. The implication is that you need Mormonism.
What is
equally obvious is that the great conflict between good and evil, right and
wrong, the moral and the immoral—conflict which the world’s great faiths and
devoted religious believers have historically tried to address—is being
intensified in our time and is affecting an ever-wider segment of our culture.
And let there be no doubt that the outcome of this conflict truly matters, not
only in eternity but in everyday life as well. Will and Ariel Durant put the
issue squarely as they reflected on what they called the “lessons of history.”
“There is no significant example in history,” they said, “of
[any] society successfully maintaining moral life without the aid of
religion.”3
This
is an articulation of the black or white, extremist narrative where religion
‘addresses’ the conflict. The implication is that religion may not be immune
from the conflict, yet can somehow solve, or fix it with their
institution. What is puzzling here is
the quote from the Durant authors. They
clearly write their history from their atheistic standpoint and argue that,
history does not even support a belief in God, so whatever religion Holland
thinks he is referring to, Durant intends it to be a human construct only:
“Does history support a belief in God? If by god we mean not the creative
vitality of nature but a supreme being intelligent and benevolent, the answer
must be a reluctant negative.” (Chapter 7).
If that is
true—and surely we feel it is—then we should be genuinely concerned over the
assertion that the single most distinguishing feature of modern life is
the rise of secularism with its attendant dismissal of, cynicism
toward, or marked disenchantment with religion.4 How wonderfully prophetic our beloved
Elder Neal A. Maxwell was clear back in 1978 when he said in a BYU devotional:
“We shall see in our time a maximum … effort … to establish irreligion as
the state religion. [These secularists will] use the carefully preserved …
freedoms of Western civilization to shrink freedom even as [they reject] the
value … of our rich Judeo-Christian heritage.” Continuing on he said: “Your
discipleship may see the time come when religious convictions are heavily
discounted. … This new irreligious imperialism [will] seek to disallow certain
… opinions simply because those opinions grow out of religious convictions.”5
I
agree that it is a fallacy to reject an idea out of hand due to its
origins. We have yet to see any
‘shrinking’ of religious freedom per se though.
Christians enjoy more freedoms and have historically for hundreds of
years.
My
goodness! That forecast of turbulent religious weather issued nearly 40 years
ago is steadily being fulfilled virtually every day somewhere in the world in
the minimization of (or open hostility toward) religious practice, religious
expression, and even in some cases the very idea of religious belief itself. Of
course, there is often a counterclaim that while some in the contemporary world
may be less committed to religion per se, nevertheless many still consider
themselves “spiritual.” But frankly that palliative may not offer much in terms of
collective moral influence in society if “spirituality” means only gazing at the stars
or meditating on a mountaintop. Indeed, many of our ancestors in generations
past lived, breathed, walked, and talked in a world full of “spirituality,” but
that clearly
included concern for the state of one’s soul, an attempt to live a righteous
life, some form of church attendance, and participation in that congregation’s
charitable service in the community. Yes, in more modern times individuals can
certainly be “spiritual” in isolation
but we don’t live in isolation; we live as families, friends, neighbors, and
nations. That calls for ties that bind us together and bind us to the good.
That is what religion does for our society, leading the way for other respected civic and
charitable organizations that do the same.
He
continues to build a strawman here in favor of religion. He is also dismissive
here of any form of spirituality not connected to religious adherence, as if he
can authoritatively do so for all current and past generations, no matter their
form of spirituality. Furthermore, he confines contemporary spirituality to a
specific form taken in isolation when clearly that is cherry-picking in a world
where there are as many forms of spirituality as there are people.
This is
not to say that individual faith groups in their many different forms and with
their various conflicting beliefs are all true and equally valuable; obviously they cannot be.
Nor does it say that institutional religions collectively—churches, if you
will—have been an infallible solution to society’s challenges; they clearly
have not been. But if
we speak of religious faith as among the highest and most noble impulses within
us, then to say
so-and-so is a “religious person” or that such and such a family “lives their
religion” is intended as a compliment. Such an observation would, as a rule,
imply that these people try to be an influence for good, try to live to a
higher level of morality than they might otherwise have done, and have tried to help hold the
sociopolitical fabric of their community together.
This
if/then argument takes an unjustified leap at the end. Religious people here are being classified
together as all attempting to live a higher morality and all attempting to be
involved in their community both socially and politically. In reality, a
generally religious person is more likely to err on the side of piousness, and
may or may not be interested in their community. On the contrary, influences for good, his
first descriptor, would be more accurately described as a follower of Christ,
not a religious person.
Well,
thank heaven for that because the sociopolitical fabric of a community wears a
little thin from time to time—locally, nationally, or internationally—and a
glance at the evening news tells us this is one of those times. My concern is
that when it comes to binding up that fabric in our day, the “ligatures” of
religion are not being looked to in quite the way they once were.
My boyhood friend and distinguished legal scholar Elder Bruce C. Hafen frames
it even more seriously than that:
“Democracy’s
core values of civilized religion … are now under siege—partly because of
violent criminals who claim to have religious motives, partly because the
wellsprings of stable social norms once transmitted naturally by religion and
marriage-based family life are being polluted[,] … and partly because the
advocates of some causes today have marshalled enough political and financial
capital to impose, by intimidation rather than by reason, their anti-religion
strategy of might makes right.”6
I
find it highly ironic that this quote calls out advocates of anti-religion in a
Western world that has been dominated for centuries by powerful people
advocating privilege for specific religions, i.e., Christianity. When the tables turn (not saying it is
justified), Religious people like Holland and presumably Hafen, whine about
their privilege (not freedoms) being taken away. Furthermore, vague references to an unknown
strategy against religion is a fear tactic, nothing more.
There are
many colliding social and cultural forces in our day that contribute to this
anti-religious condition, which I am not going to address in
these remarks. But I do wish to make the very general observation that part of
this shift away from respect for traditional religious beliefs—and
even the right to express those religious beliefs—has come because of a
conspicuous shift toward greater and greater preoccupation with the
existential circumstances of this world and less and less
concern for—or even belief in—the circumstances, truths, and requirements of
the next.
Bottom
line: tradition and heritage don’t help make something true. Additionally,
humans should very definitely be more interested in this world rather than the
next. Once you prioritize the theory of
an afterlife, every aspect of mortality comes second. This is where religion capitalizes on humans
and real relationships are then founded on a shaky, cracked foundation.
Call it
secularism or modernity or the technological age or existentialism on
steroids—whatever you want to call such an approach to life, we do know
a thing or two about it. Most importantly we know that it cannot answer the
yearning questions of the soul, nor is it substantial enough to sustain us in
times of moral crises. Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, formerly Chief Rabbi of the
United Hebrew Congregations of the British Commonwealth for 22 years, a man
whom I admire very much, has written, “What the secularists forget is that Homo
sapiens [are] meaning-seeking animals, [and] if there is one thing the great
institutions of the modern world do not do, it is to provide meaning.”7
This
is monopoly rhetoric. Religious people always take an extreme. Here the extreme
is that “meaning” cannot possibly be found without us. This sets the stage for control out of
fear. We humans cannot possibly have the
power within ourselves to find meaning in our lives so we must turn to
religion. This is, to put it bluntly, a very pompous attitude to have.
We are so
fortunate—and grateful—that modern technology gives us unprecedented personal
freedom, access to virtually unlimited knowledge, and communication capability
beyond anything ever known in this world’s history, but neither technology nor
its worthy parent science can give us much moral guidance as to how to use that freedom,
where to benefit from that knowledge, or what the best purpose of our
communication should be. It has been principally the world’s great
faiths—religion, those ligatures to the Divine we have been speaking of—that do
that, that speak to the collective
good of society, offer us a code of conduct and moral compass for
living, help us exult in profound human love, and strengthen us against
profound human loss. If
we lose consideration of these deeper elements of our mortal existence—divine elements, if you
will—we lose much (some would say most) of that which has value in life. The
legendary German sociologist Max Weber once described such a loss of religious
principle in society as being stuck in an “iron cage of disbelief.”8 Noting even in his day the shift
toward a more luxurious but less value-laden society, a society that was giving
away its priceless spiritual and religious roots, he wrote, “Not summer’s bloom
lies ahead of us, but rather a polar night of icy darkness.”9And that was in 1904!
Another
black or white fallacy here. He makes it seem as if science is the only other
option we have when secularists know full well science doesn’t currently give
us clear answers regarding morals. But
fear of not having other options, people will naturally turn to religion, as
his correlation dictates. Addressing the quote: Weber wasn’t speaking of
religious principles in politics, but principles in general.
But of
course not everyone agrees that religion does or should play such an essential
role in civilized society. Recently the gloves have come off in the
intellectual street fighting being waged under the banner of “The New
Atheists.” Figures like Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris, Daniel Dennett, and the
late Christopher Hichens are some of the stars in what is, for me, a dim
firmament. These men are as free to express their beliefs—or in their case,
disbeliefs—as any other, but we feel about them what one Oxford don said about
a colleague: “On the surface he’s profound, but deep down, he’s pretty superficial.”10 Surely, Rabbi Sacks says, it is
mind-boggling to think that a group of bright secular thinkers in the 21st
century really believe
that if they can show, for
example, that the universe is more than 6,000 years old or that a
rainbow can be explained other than as a sign of God’s covenant after the
flood, that somehow such stunning assertions “will bring all of humanity’s
religious beliefs tumbling down like a house of cards and we are then left with
a serene world of rational non-believers,”11 serene except perhaps when they whistle nervously past
the local graveyard. A much harsher assessment of this movement comes from
theologian David Bentley Hart, who writes, “Atheism that consists entirely in vacuous arguments afloat
on oceans of historical
ignorance, made turbulent by storms of strident self-righteousness, is
as contemptible as any other form of dreary fundamentalism.”12
Strawman?
Bandwagon? So you point the finger, build a strawman and dismiss out of hand
because of the narrative of religious historical precedence? Not to mention
adding the words “self-righteous” and attaching it to individuals, even though
religious institutions practice bigotry and hatred behind such titles. What is
truly mind-boggling is the blind obedience you demand in the face of such
logical reasoning questions based on literal interpretations of borrowed
stories from older pagan societies.
We are
grateful that a large segment of the human population does have
some form of religious belief, and in that sense we have not yet seen a “polar
night of icy darkness”13 envelop us. But no one can say we
are not seeing some glaciers on the move. Charles Taylor, in his book with the
descriptive title A Secular Age, describes the cold dimming of
socioreligious light this way. The shift of our time, he says, has been “from a
society in which it was virtually impossible not to believe in
God, to one in which faith, even for the staunchest believer, is [only] one
human possibility among [many] others.” In the 21st century, he writes, “Belief
in God is no longer axiomatic.”14 Indeed in some quarters it is not
even a convenient option, it is “an embattled option.”15
Can
you conveniently reason away the Dark Ages, dominated by the Catholic church?
If anything could resemble a “polar night of icy darkness,” it would be that
huge time period where the church suppressed science and silences all
opposition. I think I already answered why it was impossible not to believe in
God: because religions killed you for that.
But faith
has almost always been an “embattled option,” has almost always been won—and
kept—at a price. Indeed, many
who have walked away from faith have found the price higher than they
intended to pay, like the man who tore down the fence surrounding his new
property only to learn that his next-door neighbor kept a pack of particularly
vicious Rottweilers. David Brooks hinted at this but put it much too mildly when he
wrote in his New York Times column, “Take away the rich social
fabric [that religion has always been] and what you are left with [are] people
who are uncertain about
who they really are.”16 My point about “too mildly” is that
a rich social fabric, important as that is, says absolutely nothing about the
moral state of one’s soul, redemption from physical death, overcoming spiritual
alienation from God, the perpetuation of marriage and the family unit into
eternity, and so forth—if anyone is considering such issues in a post-modern
world.
Vague,
anecdotal untruth? Sure many don’t intend to pay such a high price, but why is
the price so high? Could it be that religion has something to do with that because
of irresponsible, preposterous rhetoric that is indoctrinated into its
followers? Such as, ‘your family member is going to hell if they leave our
religion,’ or, ‘you might consider divorcing such a rebellious irreligious
person for the spiritual safety of your young children.’ These are dangerous and divisive words that
are found all too often in the sanctimonious halls of religion found the world
over. Speaking of anecdotal evidence: I have personally found myself after freeing
my life of an over-controlling religion that doesn’t allow to explore who I
really am, only who they think I am or should be, as is the case for most people who leave religion.
In fact,
religion has been the principle influence—not the only one, but the principle
one—that has kept Western social, political, and cultural life moral to the
extent these have been moral. And I shudder at how immoral life might have
been—then and now—without that influence. Granted, religion has no monopoly on
moral action, but centuries of religious belief, including institutional
church- or synagogue- or mosque-going, have clearly been preeminent in shaping
our notions of right and wrong. Journalist Will Saletan puts it candidly:
“Religion is the vehicle through which most folks learn and practice morality.”17
So
what of societies before Christ? Organized religion has only existed since then
and arguably is even younger than that. Israelites didn’t have ‘organized’
religion. What of the far east? Their
societies have flourished morally without ‘organized’ religion in the same
sense. Sure, religion is a primary
vehicle because so many are entrenched in it.
That doesn’t mean there would be a vacuum of morality if religion was
taken away. This is to imply that
irreligious people don’t know how to behave, aren’t contributing to society,
and are fundamentally immoral. In
effect, Jeff Holland is extending dangerous religious rhetoric that paints
anyone who disbelieves as monsters to be feared.
I am
stressing such points this morning because I have my eye on that future
condition about which Elder Maxwell warned, a time when if we are not careful
we may find religion at the margins of society rather than the center of it,
where religious beliefs and all the good works those beliefs have generated may
be tolerated privately but not admitted (or at least certainly not encouraged)
publicly. The cloud the prophet Elijah saw in the distance, no larger than a
man’s hand,18 is that kind of cloud on the
political horizon today, so we speak of it by way of warning, remembering the
storm into which Elijah’s small cloud developed.19
The
word ‘political,’ almost came out of nowhere here. Again, Holland uses a go-to fallacy: black or
white. All the good works will disappear
if religion is marginalized. He is using
fear to rationalize keeping religion at the center of society. Also, religious beliefs don’t generate good
works. Love in humankind generates good
works. Whether you are religiously
motivated or not, humans have self-preservation built into their DNA, contrary
to religious labels such as ‘natural man.’
But
whatever the trouble along the way, I am absolutely certain how this all turns
out. I know the prophecies and the promises given to the faithful, and I know
our collective religious heritage—the Western world’s traditional religious
beliefs, varied as they are—are remarkably strong and resilient. The evidence
of that religious heritage is all around us, including at great universities—or
at least it once was, and fortunately still is at BYU. Just to remind us how
rich the ambiance of religion is in Western culture and because this is
“Education Week,” may I mention just a few of the great religiously-influenced non-LDS pieces
of literature that I met while pursuing my education on this campus 50 years
ago, provincial and dated as my list is. I do so stressing how barren our lives
would be had there not been the freedom for writers, artists, and musicians to
embrace and express religious values or discuss religious issues.
The
existence of something does not make the alternate ‘barren.’ That is like saying, “If I hadn’t been born,
nobody would have any of the original ideas I came up with.” In reality, ideas
grow and stem from others all the time.
Philosophies are sharing seeds of an idea until concepts and theories
are materialized from multiple sources.
I begin by
noting the majestic literary—to say nothing of the theological—influence of the
King James Bible, what one of the professors I knew later at Yale called “the
sublime summit of literature in [the] English [language],”20 the greatest single influence on
the world’s creative literature for the last 400 years. I think also of what is
probably the most widely read piece of English literature other than the Bible,
John Bunyan’sPilgrim’s Progress. Five decades after I first read
them I am still moved by the magnificence of two of the greatest poems ever written
by the hand of man, Dante Alighieri’s Divine Comedy and John
Milton’s Paradise Lost. Certainly the three greatest American
novels I read at BYU were Herman Melville’s Moby Dick, Nathaniel
Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter, and Mark Twain’s The
Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, each in its own way a religious text and
all more meaningful in my reading of them now than when I was a student on this
campus so long ago. So, too, of my encounter with Russian writers, especially
Fyodor Dostoyevsky and Leo Tolstoy. Then you add British giants like George
Herbert and John Donne, William Blake and Robert Browning; throw in Americans
like Emily Dickinson, William Faulkner, and Flannery O’Connor; then an American
who became British like T. S. Eliot and a Britain who became American like W.
H. Auden; for good luck throw in an Irishman like W. B. Yeats—to name only a
handful—and you have biblical imagery, religious conflict, and wrenching
questions of sin, society, and salvation on virtually every page you
turn.
Not
to mention bigotry, slavery, misogyny, abuse, infanticide, adultery, rape,
murder, ethnic cleansing, racism, incest… what did I miss? Just as easily can one create a list of
brilliant irreligious authors and poets who have influenced society over many
years.
Having mentioned
a tiny bit of the religiously related literature I happened to encounter as a
student, I now note an equally tiny bit of the contribution that religious
sensibility has provoked in the heart of the visual artist and the soul of the
exultant musician.
[Audiovisual
Presentation]
Brothers
and sisters, my testimony this morning, as one observer recently wrote, is that
“over the long haul, religious faith has proven itself the most
powerful and enduring force in human history.”21 Roman Catholic scholar Robert Royal
made the same point, reaffirming that for many “religion remains deep,
widespread, and persistent, to the surprise and irritation of those who claimed
to have cast aside [religious] illusion”22—those who underestimated the
indisputable power of faith.
Arguably,
what was underestimated is stubborn ignorance handed down as part of the
heritage of ancestors. Religion thrives
in ignorance. When a control mechanism
can give [incorrect] answers to legitimate fears of people, they are then under
their control. When some outside
influence offers a rational explanation, i.e., where the sun goes at night,
then we can start to defrost the real icy darkness religion has created.
Holland here again appeals to longevity which is no basis for holding on to an
ancient religion.
The
indisputable power of faith. The most powerful and enduring force in human
history. The influence for good in the world. The link between the highest in
us and our highest hopes for others. That is why religion matters. Voices of
religious faith have elevated our vision, deepened our human conversation, and
strengthened both our personal and collective aspiration since time began. How
do we even begin to speak of what Abraham and Moses, David and Isaiah,
Jeremiah, Nephi, Mormon, and Moroni have given us? Or of what Peter, James, and
John, the Apostle Paul, Joseph Smith, and Thomas Monson mean to us?
You
can begin by realizing they are just a handful of influences for [possible]
good in the world. The problem with some
of these examples are fundamental character flaws: adultery, murder, malfeasance,
fraudulence, just to name a few. I
admit, this is a logical fallacy in its own right, as the ideas that come from
someone should not be dismissed based on their personal character. Yet Mr.
Holland didn’t specifically speak of what they said, only what they have ‘given.’
If one takes Joseph Smith for example, one might argue that he ‘gave’ us a lot
of good and a lot of bad, as his actions directly disaffected many close
friends and associates, whose names were then dragged through the mud as they
dared speak out against Joseph and his manipulative practices. Personally, I like to invest in myself. I believe in myself and I find inspiration in
my own way, through multiple sources that tell me that hope, meaning and human
connection is found from within, not from a manmade religion.
It is
impossible to calculate the impact that prophets and apostles have had upon us,
but, putting them in a special category of their own, we can still consider the
world-shaping views and moral force that have come to us from a Martin Luther
or a John Calvin or a John Wesley in earlier times, or from a Billy Graham or a
Pope Francis or the Dali Lama in the current age. In this audience today we are
partly who we are because some 450 years ago men like Nicholas Ridley and Hugh
Latimer, being burned at the stake in Oxford, called out to one another that
they were lighting such a religious fire in England that it would never be put
out in all the world. Later William Wilberforce applied just such Christian
conviction to abolishing the slave trade in Great Britain. As an ordained
minister Martin Luther King Jr. continued the quest for racial and civil
justice through religious eloquence in the pulpit and in the street. George
Washington prayed at Valley Forge, and Abraham Lincoln’s most cherished volume
in his library was his Bible, in which he read regularly, out of which he
sought to right a great national wrong, and from which, in victory, he called
for “malice toward none [and] charity for all, with firmness in the right as
God gives us to see the right.”23
One
could also argue that those religious convictions of those people were more a
correlation rather than a causation, as their belief system didn’t change who
they were as compassionate or convicted people.
So the
core landscape of history has been sketched by the pen and brush and words of
those who invoke a divine creator’s involvement in our lives and who count on
the ligatures of religion to bind up our wounds and help us hold things
together.
Leaping
from ‘religion,’ to personal divine creator? Now we are definitely talking
about a specific religion.
Speaking
both literally and figuratively of a recurring feature on that landscape, Will
and Ariel Durant wrote: “These church steeples, everywhere pointing upward,
ignoring despair and lifting hope, these lofty city spires, or simple chapels
in the hills—they rise at every step from the earth toward the sky; in every
village of every nation they challenge doubt and invite weary hearts to
consolation. Is it all a vain delusion? Is there nothing beyond life but death,
and nothing beyond death but decay? We cannot know,” they say, “but as long as
man suffers, these steeples will remain.”24
Again,
the irony is that they aren’t complimenting religion, merely acknowledging its
existence and longevity.
Of course,
those of us who are believers have very specific convictions about what
we can know regarding the meaning of those ubiquitous church
steeples.
Common
abuse of the word, ‘know.’
In that
spirit may I conclude with my heartfelt apostolic witness of truths I do know
regarding the ultimate gift true religion provides us. I have been focusing on
the social, political, and cultural contributions that religion has provided us
for centuries, but I testify that true religion—the gospel of Jesus
Christ—gives us infinitely more than that; it gives us “peace in this world, and eternal life in
the world to come,”25 as the scripture phrases it. True
religion brings understanding of and loyalty to our Father in Heaven and His uncompromised love for
every one of His spirit children past, present, and future. True religion
engenders in us faith in the Lord Jesus Christ and hope in His Resurrection. It
encourages love,
forbearance, and forgiveness in our interactions with one another as He
so magnanimously demonstrated them in His. True religion, the tie that binds us
to God and each other, not only seals our family relationships in eternity but
also heightens our delight
in those family experiences while in mortality. Well beyond all the
civic, social, and cultural gifts religion gives us is the mercy of a loving
Father and Son who conceived and carried out the atoning mission of that Son,
the Lord Jesus Christ, suturing up that which was torn, bonding together that
which was broken, healing that which was ill or imperfect, “proclaim[ing]
liberty to the captives, and … opening … the prison to them that are bound.”26
“…truths
I do know…” is irresponsible and misleading. I have peace. Demands of loyalty
don’t appeal to me. Being free from religion has also opened my eyes to how
truly deep and delightful all my relationships can be. Enjoy the here and now.
Don’t wait for empty promises of eternal life to enjoy your relationships.
Because my
faith, my family, my beliefs, my covenants—in short, my religion—means
everything to me, I thank my Father in Heaven for it and pray for the continued
privilege to speak of it so long as I shall live. May we think upon the
religious heritage that has been handed down to us, at an incalculable price in
many instances, and in so remembering not only cherish that heritage more
fervently but live the religious principles we say we want to preserve. Only
in the living of our religion will the preservation of it have true meaning. It
is in that spirit that we seek the good of our fellow men and women and work
toward the earthly kingdom of God rolling forth, that the heavenly kingdom of
God may come. May our religious privileges be cherished, preserved, and lived,
binding us to God and each other until that blessed millennial day comes, I
earnestly pray in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.
He
acknowledged privileges! Thank you! (Privilege: special right, advantage or
immunity).
2. See “Latin
Dictionary and Grammar Aid,” s.v. “relig are” and “lig are,” University of Notre
Dame,http://archives.nd.edu/cgi-bin/lookup.pl?stem=relig&ending=are
and http://archives.nd.edu/cgi-bin/lookup.pl?stem=lig&ending=are.
4. See George
Gallup Jr, “Americans’ Spiritual Searches Turn Inward,” Gallup.com, Feb. 11,
2003,pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2015/11/03/5-key-findings-about-religiosity-in-the-u-s-and-how-its-changing/; David Masci and Michael Lipka,
“Americans May Be Getting Less Religious, but Feelings of Spirituality Are on
the Rise,” Pew Research Center, Jan. 21, 2016, pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2016/01/21/americans-spirituality/; Michael Lipka, “5 Key Findings
about Religiosity in the U.S.—and How It’s Changing,” FactTank: News in the
Numbers, Pew Research Center, Nov. 3, 2015,pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2015/11/03/5-key-findings-about-religiosity-in-the-u-s-and-how-its-changing/.
5. Neal A. Maxwell,
“Meeting the Challenges of Today” (Brigham Young University devotional, Oct.
10, 1978), speeches.byu.edu.
6. Bruce C. Hafen,
“Religious Freedom and the Habits of the Heart” (2015 Oxford Conference: Magna
Carta and Freedom of Religion, June 21, 2015), 10,
iclrs.org/content/blurb/files/Elder Bruce Hafen Oxford 2015.pdf.
7. Jonathan Sacks,
“How to Defeat Religious Violence” Wall Street Journal, Oct.
2, 2015,wsj.com/articles/how-to-defeat-religious-violence-1443798275.
10. Jonathan Sacks, “Chief
Rabbi: Atheism Has Failed. Only Religion Can Defeat the New Barbarians,” The
Spectator, June 15, 2013,
spectator.co.uk/2013/06/atheism-has-failed-only-religion-can-fight-the-barbarians/.
12. David Bentley
Hart, Atheist Delusions: The Christian Revolution and Its Fashionable
Enemies (2009), 4.
13. John Dreijmanis, Max
Weber’s Complete Writings on Academic and Political Vocations, 206;
quoted in Bruce C. Hafen, “Religious Freedom and the Habits of the Heart,” 10.
16. David Brooks, “How
Covenants Make Us,” New York Times, Apr. 5, 2016,nytimes.com/2016/04/05/opinion/how-covenants-make-us.html?rref=collection/column/david-brooks&action=click&contentCollection=opinion®ion=stream&module=stream_unit&version=latest&contentPlacement=20&pgtype=collection.
17. William Saletan, “When
Churches Do the Right Thing,” Slate.com, May 8, 2014,slate.com/blogs/saletan/2014/05/08/is_religion_evil_on_guns_terrorism_and_civil_liberties_these_churches_did.html.
20. Harold Bloom, The
Shadow of a Great Rock: A Literary Appreciation of the King James Bible (2011),
introduction.
21. R. R. Reno, “Religion
and Public Life in America in the 21st Century,” Journal of Faith and
War, Apr. 30, 2014,faithandwar.org/index.php/component/content/article/42-god-and-human-nature/181-religion-and-public-life-in-america-in-the-21st-century; italics added.
