Cracking Up

 Twice a year the church holds General Conference--two days of talks from the leaders of the church about a myriad of topics.  I never expected to love 10 hours of religious lecture, but I do.  I've struggled to find a framework for my thoughts on the gospel, and watching Conference made me realize that I had a readily available source of topics to find inspiration in.  One of my favorite talks from the most recent session was "Building a Life Resistant to the Adversary" by Jorge F. Zeballos.  In it, he shares a story from his youth when he went to university to become a civil engineer.

"[...] I dreamed of the day when I would [learn] to design buildings and other structures that could          then be considered "anti-seismic."

"The day finally arrived for my first class on the subject.  The first words from the professor were the following: "You are surely anxious to begin this course and learn how to design anti-seismic structures," to which many of us eagerly nodded our heads.  Then the professor said, "I am sorry to tell you that this is not possible, for I cannot teach you how to design a building that is against, that is 'anti-' or opposed to, an earthquake.  This makes no sense," he said, "because earthquakes will occur anyway, whether we like it or not."

"Then he added, "What I can teach you is how to design structures that are seismic-resistant structures that can resist the forces coming from an earthquake, so that the structure remains standing without suffering any serious damage and can then continue offering the service for which it had been conceived."

What a simple but invaluable insight.  Just as we cannot avoid or prevent earthquakes, we cannot avoid adversity or prevent hard times.  Something (more likely somethings) will eventually smash us--sickness, war, injury, the death of a loved one, bigotry, betrayal, cruelty, addiction, divorce, poverty...the list is boundless.  We don't know how or when. We can't effectively plan for exact trials.  All we can do is try to have a strong enough foundation to survive whatever will come.

Elder Zeballos continues, "The event of an earthquake leaves its mark even on structures that were correctly designed and built--such consequences as perhaps some cracks, fallen furniture or ceilings, and broken windows.  But this well designed and well-built edifice will fulfill its purpose of protecting its occupants, and with some repairs, it will recuperate its original condition.

"In similar fashion, the buffetings of the adversary can also cause "cracks," or some partial damage in our lives, in spite of our efforts to build our lives according to the perfect divine design [...] But what is truly relevant is that for having followed the [...] gospel of Jesus Christ, we are still standing.  The structure of our lives has not been demolished because of the adversary's efforts or for difficult situations that we have had to face; rather, we are ready to move forward. 

"The joy promised in the scriptures as the purpose of our existence should not be understood to mean that we will have no difficulties or sorrows, that we will have no "cracks" as consequences of temptations, of adversity, or from the actual trials of our earth life."

I love this entire talk, but there were three main things that were incredibly clear to me as I listened to it.

First, that a solid testimony keeps us anchored even when we are struggling.  Over the last year and a half I have been wading through one of the hardest trials I've ever had.  Despite the challenges, I haven't once questioned whether God was real or whether the church was true.  It never crossed my mind to stop going on Sunday or stop teaching my kids the doctrine.  I had always considered myself to have a plodding, mostly dependable testimony, but it was a pleasant surprise to find out it was stronger than I thought. That testimony and understanding helped me to withstand the emotional, mental, and spiritual aftershocks of the last eighteen months.

Second, where we focus matters.  Sometimes in life we tend to focus on the trials and the wounds they leave instead of the blessings and the refining we experienced.  After an earthquake, it's easy to be distracted by the fractured drywall and broken windows and overlook the solid foundation and unbroken frame.  The same thing can happen spiritually.  We can get overwhelmed by feelings and passions, confusions and hurt, and jump to the conclusion that our testimony is broken and that the gospel can't possibly be true, and we just throw it all out and walk away to find another "truth" that doesn't hurt or ask so much of us.  There's a great line from the Legend of Korra that expresses this perfectly: "If you look for the light, you will often find it, but if you look for the dark, that is all you will ever see." 

It is a deliberate choice to live the gospel.  It is a choice to turn back to Christ, to seek His light and the things of God, in a world that offers so many distractions and disincentives.  Yet, Christ is the only sure foundation.

The third realization is my favorite one.  We are supposed to crack.  We aren't supposed to pretend to be perfect, or expect to escape the bruises and scars that come with mortal life.  We are here to crack--and, more importantly, to be fixed.  

Which brings us to the parable of Kintsugi.  Kintsugi is a Japanese method of fixing pottery.  Now, in the Western world, a broken bowl is thrown out; if it is repaired, the goal is to make the break and repair invisible so that the bowl looks as if it had never been broken at all.  In Kintsugi, the shards are pieced back together and held with enamel, which is then brushed with gold or other precious metals to highlight  the repair.  The break becomes part of the bowl's history, part of its story; the bowl is not only able to fulfill its original purpose again, but it is considered more beautiful and unique than it was before being broken.  The intention is not to define the bowl by or glorify its flaws, but rather to emphasize that what was broken can be fixed.  In a spiritual sense, when we break--whether through sin or temptation or the actions of others--we can be pieced back together and made more than we were through the love and Atonement of Christ.  The Lord doesn't want us to be perfect, but to be perfected through Him.

I freaking love that.

More importantly, I've needed to learn it.  As far as I was concerned, other people broke.  Other people needed the Atonement.  I wasn't perfect, but I was good enough.  My problems weren't that bad.  This last year showed me how brittle I was, and how much I can't do on my own.  Not my favorite realization, but a necessary one.  It allows me to take a good look at my foundations, my choices, my testimony, to see my weaknesses and strengths, and make the repairs necessary to withstand the next challenge a little better.

No matter how careful we are, none of us make it through life unscathed.  We aren't supposed to. Adversity tests us, refines us. In the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, we often talk about the Plan of Happiness or the Plan of Salvation--the idea that, having learned all we could in the spirit world, we would come to earth to gain experience through the sorrows and joys of mortality.  Because God knew that we would make mistakes, that we would "crack," part of the plan included a Savior, to help repair us when we were too broken to continue in the purpose of our creation, too broken to return to Him. 

What an incredible gift.

Here's a link to to Elder Zeballos' talk:

https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/general-conference/2022/10/27zeballos?lang=eng

If you are interested in learning more about the Plan of Salvation, here's a good place to start:

https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/manual/gospel-topics/plan-of-salvation?lang=eng