The Joy of Sauntering

My calendar informs me that today, June 19, is "World Sauntering Day."  According to Wikipedia, the commemoration on this date goes back to 1979 when it was started in Michigan by an anti-jogger "to encourage people to slow down and appreciate the world around them."

I love the word "saunter" — it conveys a sense of relaxed, unhurried enjoyment. Each of these synonyms has a similarly pleasant feel to it:

• Stroll
• Amble
• Mosey
• Wander
• Meander

The word "saunter" always brings to mind the story told about one of my heroes, John Muir (1838-1914), a legendary naturalist, outdoorsman, environmentalist, and philosopher. Muir loved to hike and camp in the Sierras of California. But it's said that he despised the word "hike" because it had too much of a connotation of rushing to a destination. (Imagine how he would feel about the newer practice of "trail running"!) He stated that people should "saunter" in the mountains, and would tell this story in support of his position:

"Do you know the origin of that word 'saunter?' It's a beautiful word. Away back in the Middle Ages people used to go on pilgrimages to the Holy Land, and when people in the villages through which they passed asked where they were going, they would reply, "A la sainte terre,' 'To the Holy Land.' And so they became known as sainte-terre-ers or saunterers. Now these mountains are our Holy Land, and we ought to saunter through them reverently, not 'hike' through them."

According to one person who spent time with Muir in the mountains:

John Muir lived up to his doctrine. He was usually the last man to reach camp. He never hurried. He stopped to get acquainted with individual trees along the way. He would hail people passing by and make them get down on hands and knees if necessary to see the beauty of some little bed of almost microscopic flowers. Usually he appeared at camp with some new flowers in his hat and a little piece of fir bough in his buttonhole. (Albert W. Palmer, "The Mountain Trail and Its Message", 1911)

What a marvelous image! Incidentally, most linguists don't support this etymology of the word. Muir may have learned his derivation from an east-coast saunterer who preceded him, Henry David Thoreau, who used very similar language and derivation in his marvelous essay from the 1850's titled Walking. Thoreau warned about imitation saunterers who really had no intention of going to the Holy Land, but just appreciated the charity that their pretense evoked. But an authentic saunterer was a Crusader, and "every walk is a sort of crusade... to go forth and reconquer this Holy Land from the hands of the Infidels." The essay on Walking ends with this beautiful phrase:

So we saunter toward the Holy Land, till one day the sun shall shine more brightly than ever he has done, shall perchance shine into our minds and hearts, and light up our whole lives with a great awakening light, as warm and serene and golden as on a bankside in autumn.

All too often, on my excursions into the mountains or experiences with nature, I find myself hurrying towards a destination. I have to get to the summit so I can return home and tend to the rest of my duties. However, my "saving grace" is that I love to take photos — both sweeping landscapes and intimate close-ups. That often slows me down. A friend captured this shot of me once, sneaking up on a flower, in the Timpanogos Basin:

So while "peak-bagging" and even trail running have their place, I appreciate this reminder on World Sauntering Day to enjoy the Holy Land that is all around us.

And in a profound way, this is a great lesson for life. We life in complex times when there are many demands and opportunities competing for our attention. We too often try to "cram in" as much as possible, rushing toward ephemeral destinations as if our urgency added value to the journey. Perhaps we need more symbolic or literal "sauntering" as a more prominent portion of life. It's not just the ground around us that is holy; it's not just flowers, birds, animals, landscapes, and sunsets; but it's especially the people. Our lives take on more holiness as we reach out to others, as we develop friendships, as we serve, as we learn together. C. S. Lewis understood this principle:

“It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest most uninteresting person you can talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship.... There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations—these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit—immortal horrors or everlasting splendors.”
― C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory

Surrounded by so many wonders, who wouldn't appreciate the chance to saunter through such a Holy Land?

Epiphany and Wise Men

Like most Christians, my family continued to perpetrate one of the myths of Christmas during this past season.  We displayed our Nativity Scenes or Creches with the baby Jesus, Mary and Joseph, the shepherds and assorted animals, and the three "wise men." It's that last part, of course, that doesn't fit.  The Magi of Matthew's Gospel were not present on the night of Jesus' birth along with the adoring shepherds. It's not clear from the record when they came; it may have been a few days later or many months. Some suggest that Herod's order to kill all babies less than 2 years old indicates that the visit of the wise men might have been that much after the birth of Jesus.

The Christian "feast day" of Epiphany traditionally is celebrated 12 days after Christmas, on January 6.  One of the main focuses of this holiday is the commemoration of the arrival of the Magi, representing the manifestation of the Savior to the Gentiles.

Matthew is the only Gospel writer to mention these events.  His record from Matthew 2 gives us some interesting things to ponder.

Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judæa in the days of Herod the king, behold, there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem,
Saying, Where is he that is born King of the Jews? for we have seen his star in the east, and are come to worship him.

These first two verses tell us at least three critical things about the wise men:

1. They were men of understanding. They knew of the prophecies. They must have studied, even what was likely the beliefs of a very different culture from their own.
    
2. They were observant. They recognized the sign when they saw it, and were able to relate it to their understanding of the prophecy.
    
3. They acted once they understood. They didn't just ponder the sign in the heavens; they traveled to be near the scene, to be able to "worship him."

What a wonderful example!  By contrast, Herod and "all Jerusalem" were troubled by the queries of the wise men.  Herod consulted with his "chief priests and scribes" for details; they were at least able to identify Bethlehem as the prophesied location.  But why hadn't they seen the new star?  Why weren't they watching for the signs?  Why weren't they acting on the new knowledge?

The star now leads the wise men directly to the house (not stable) where Mary and her child (not baby) are located.  They rejoice exceedingly, and present their gifts.  Then, as another manifestation of their spiritual sensitivity, they are "warned of God in a dream" not to return to Herod, and depart by another way.

These tender words of Elder Maxwell link each of us to those wise men of long ago:

“No wonder the declaratory focus of the first Christmas was on ‘a Savior is born.’  What greater tidings could there be than those ‘good tiding of great joy’?  No wonder the reverential exclamation praising our planning and loving Father—indeed, ‘Glory to God in the highest’!
“‘Come, let us adore Him,’ Jesus Christ.  The ultimate form of adoration of Him is emulation!  Come, let us glorify God with our daily lives!
“Like the wise men from the east, we too must travel a great distance in order to come unto Christ, the Light of the World.  No matter—He waits for us ‘with open arms’ (Mormon 6:17).  May Christmas cause us deeper contemplation and deeper determination to complete that journey of journeys—in order to experience that resplendent rendezvous.”
- Neal A. Maxwell, "The Christmas Scene" (Bookcraft, 1994), p. 9

We, too, have journeys to travel.  The road is often long and difficult.  But if our understanding is deep enough, if we are observant enough of the signs of God's love for us and his ongoing direction, and if we are willing to act and do our part—then like the wise men of old, we will "rejoice exceedingly" at the realization of that "resplendent rendezvous" we will each experience in returning to the Child of Bethlehem.

Being Part of the Gathering of Saints

On the eve of another General Conference, I've been reflecting on why that experience is so meaningful to me, and in particular, why I don't like things that compete with my participation. I've gotten fussy about my conference time. I am not one who can work in the yard or tinker around the house while listening to conference.  I don't like missing the broadcast, even knowing that the recordings and transcriptions are available for personal review and study almost immediately afterwards.  I feel a personal need to participate "live and in person" with the conference sessions.  The reason why takes a little explaining.  (I also acknowledge that not everyone feels like I do about this—and that's OK! What follows is my approach and my thoughts, and not the only approach or even the right approach.)

I'm not an old man (regardless of what my son says). But I vividly recall some of the experiences of my youth, pre-satellite and pre-cableTV, gathering to a stake center for the Priesthood Session of General Conference. There was no video; just the audio, brought to us over telephone lines and patched into the sound system in the building. The sound quality was inconsistent, and very inadequate for music transmission; but the connection was usually reliable.  In spite of what might seem a limitation by today's standards, I recall some marvelous spiritual experiences in my youth from that setting, hearing the instructions of Church leaders to the assembled priesthood holders.

Judge Righteous Judgment

"Judge not, that ye be not judged." (Matthew 7:1)

This phrase from the Savior's teachings in the Sermon on the Mount is often quoted and discussed.  Joseph Smith refined the thought in his inspired revision of the verse:

"Judge not unrighteously, that ye be not judged; but judge righteous judgment."

This expansion is consistent with the Savior's teachings in other places, particularly John 7:24:

"Judge not according to the appearance, but judge righteous judgment."

As we try to learn the difference between unrighteous and righteous forms of judgment, that insight is helpful.  Judging "according to the appearance" of an action or incident is often unrighteous.  Similarly, the Lord counseled an ancient prophet, "...the Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart" (1 Samuel 16:7).  How do we get beyond making judgment based on appearance?  How can we be sure to judge righteously?

Our natural tendency is to make evaluations and decisions based on what we see or perceive in individuals and situations around us.  Often that's a necessary part of how we deal with the world — prioritizing, judging, choosing how to react and interact.  But sometimes, we make mistakes in those judgments that can have serious implications.

I've come to believe that some of the greatest challenges in personal interactions can result from this problem of "hasty judgment."  We hear words or see an action, and quickly assume we understand the history, motivation, or thoughts that led to the action.  We are judging on appearance, not allowing either our reason or the Spirit to lead us to what might be a different story.

Lessons from YW Camp 2001

In 2001, I was serving as a high councilor in the Orem Canyon View stake. I had been assigned as the stake representative to the Young Women — a wonderful responsibility!  We prepared through the year for the annual Young Women Camp, and had been assigned to a week in August at Camp Mia Shalom, where we had attended many times.  During this year, however, the summer was hot and dry, and the water supply at Shalom ran low.  We would have to bring in water for all our needs — a challenging task. We looked for alternatives, and found one option: Camp Bennion, several miles up Spanish Fork canyon. It had water and some good options for activities and was closer to home. It was, however, a tent camp — no cabins — providing a different experience for the young women, and their leaders! But there was a lot of enthusiasm for the new setting.

As the high council representative, I had the privilege to spend the whole week at the camp with the young women and their leaders.  During the course of the week, there were some wonderful experiences, as always.  But three specific lessons that came to me personally have lingered in my mind in the years that have passed; in fact, they always come back to mind when I drive down Spanish Fork Canyon. I decided it was time to record them. I'll list them in the reverse order of when they occurred.

To drink of the cup

In the deserts of Palestine a few thousand years ago, Jesus completed His final ministry in the area known as Perea and started to make His way towards Jerusalem for that last week of His life.

As He journeyed with a group of His disciples, Matthew records an interesting interchange.  One of the women approached Jesus.  She was the mother of James and John, the sons of Zebedee.  She asked the Master what seems to us to be a rather presumptuous and impudent question:

Grant that these my two sons may sit, the one on the right hand, and the other on the left, in thy kingdom.

We infer from her words that she probably had the common misconception about the Savior's kingdom being an earthly one, that His power would be political, and His rise to power imminent.  It probably also shows a little bit of what I think is in every mother, a hope and desire that her sons will "turn out," will be successful and special.

Jesus could have responded with a lecture, or a rebuke, or have even ignored her naïveté.  But His words are sensitive and thoughtful:

Ye know not what ye ask.

"An angel, strengthening..."

The synoptic Gospels describe the event that is, for Latter-day Saints, the focal point of the Easter Week. Following the Last Supper with his disciples, as darkness falls, the Savior makes his way to a garden called Gethsemane—nearby but outside the walls of Jerusalem.  There, the Savior asks his disciples to watch and wait, and he goes on alone to pray.  Luke mentions that at one point, an angel comes to console and encourage the suffering Lord.

In 2011, the BYU Museum of Art arranged for an exhibit of many of the paintings of Carl Bloch, the gifted 19th century Danish artist.  They were beautiful to see.  One in particular seemed to really "speak" to me, and I spent a long time (during several visits) studying it and feeling the power of its message.  It's titled "Gethsemane."