I feel a little gloomy this morning, a sort of abstract gloom. The fuss over and by Ordain Women’s leader and the bad choices of others closer to home seem to create for a me a sort of dark cloud, a sense of grief. No matter that they deliberately have chosen a lower road. I still feel personally diminished in some real sense.
I think about the famous poem by the English poet John Donne, as he reflected on someone’s death:
No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thine own
Or of thine friend's were.
Each man's death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.
Might not we grieve even more over someone’s spiritual death?
Race, Priesthood, and Temple Blessings--
3 months ago





























