Our interpreter is the Spirit

We don't have a professional clergy--a paid ministry that gives official interpretation of the scriptures--as we've always said we don't. There's no office in the Church that qualifies the holder to give the official interpretation of the Church. We're to read the scriptures for ourselves, as guided by the Spirit. ("The Terrible Questions", Temple and Cosmos)

Families Forever?

Mormon doctrine presents the Latter-day Saints with a challenge: What will they be doing in eternity? Many find themselves stuck in a strange predicament. They imagine the eternal family as the typical young household with a number of little children that can never grow up. Yet many a patriarch had sons and grandsons whose ages surpassed his own; are they always to remain daddy's little men? So what will we do forever? The movie studio imagines something like an eternal family reunion held in the city park with everybody sitting or standing around in old-fashioned nightgowns in an exchange of insipid smiles and small talk. After twenty minutes of that, anyone would settle for inferno. ("Change out of Control", Approaching Zion)

What lack we yet?

I am not free to observe the law of consecration partially or to subordinate to other interests. All of our how-to-get-rich books, including those by Latter-day Saints, insist that the only way to succeed in any enterprise is to give it undivided, dedicated attention. A prosperous member of a ward in which my son was in the bishopric was wont to say that what he liked best about the gospel was that it was just like a cafeteria, where you could take what you want and leave what you want. Some maintain that by making a substantial contribution they are keeping the law of consecration. But if I keep only some of the Ten Commandments, I am not keeping the Ten Commandments; if I pay some of my tithing I am not paying tithing; if I keep the law of obedience, doing things God's way, when I find it convenient, I am not keeping that law; a person who is chaste some of the time is not keeping the law of chastity; if I part with odds and ends from time to time, I am not observing the law of sacrifice; a minifast of say twenty minutes or so between meals is not fasting.

Yet that is the condition we are all in, since no one is perfect in keeping any law; but now things have reached a critical point, and we have been told to repent. A young man asked the Lord what he must do to have eternal life. Did he keep all the commandments? The Lord went through the list. Yes, said the young man, "What lack I yet?" What he lacked was the last and hardest to keep of all the commandments—had he consecrated his goods to the poor? No. "He went away sorrowful; for he had great possessions" (Matthew 19:20-22). The Lord could make no concessions or exceptions and had to let him go. The disciples were "exceedingly amazed" (Matthew 19:25) when the Lord explained to them that wealth is an almost insuperable barrier to entering the kingdom. It is plain that the apostles themselves had kept the law of consecration, for Peter said, "Behold, we have forsaken all and followed thee" (Matthew 19:27). How hard the ministry have worked to rationalize themselves out of that one! ("Breakthroughs I Would Like to See", Approaching Zion)

Book of Mormon not a product of its time

Critics may be permitted at this late date to try their hand at winning friends and influencing people by telling the Mormons of today that they are just ordinary folk with an ordinary church. But to say that such was also the case in the days of Joseph Smith and Brigham Young is neither honest nor sporting. The genial and forced camaraderie of some of the present-day critics of Mormonism is that of the man who finds it easier to pick your pocket by affectionately locking arms with you than by hitting you over the head. The new humane approach is simply an obvious maneuver to rob the Church of a glorious history and to play down every remarkable circumstance of its origin. When it reaches the point of being told that while the Book of Mormon may seem very strange to us, to the contemporaries of Joseph Smith it "would scarcely seem fanciful, possibly not even novel," it is high time to protest. For even the most superficial acquaintance with the literature will show that the Book of Mormon was as baffling, scandalizing, and hated a book in the first week of its appearance as it has ever been since. The idea that the Book of Mormon was simply a product of its time may be a necessary fiction to explain it, but it is fiction nonetheless. If they may be trusted in nothing else, the voluminous writings of the anti-Mormons stand as monumental evidence for one fact: that Mormonism and the Book of Mormon were in no way a product of the society in which they arose. ("The Prophetic Book of Mormon", The Prophetic Book of Mormon)

Ye hypocrites!

The worst sinners, according to Jesus, are not the harlots and publicans, but the religious leaders with their insistence on proper dress and grooming, their careful observance of all the rules, their precious concern for status symbols, their strict reality, their pious patriotism. ("What is Zion? A Distant View", Approaching Zion)

Management and the decline of civilization

"If you love me," said the greatest of all leaders, "you will keep my commandments." "If you know what is good for you," says the manager, "you will keep my commandments and not make waves." That is why the rise of management always marks the decline, alas, of culture. If the management does not go for Bach, very well, there will be no Bach in the meeting. If the management favors vile sentimental doggerel verse extolling the qualities that make for success, young people everywhere will be spouting long trade-journal jingles from the stand. If the management's taste in art is what will sell--trite, insipid, folksy kitsch--that is what we will get. If management finds maudlin, saccharine commercials appealing, that is what the public will get. If management must reflect the corporate image in tasteless, trendy new buildings, down come the fine old pioneer monuments. ("Leaders to Managers: The Fatal Shift", Brother Brigham Challenges the Saints)

What do we do now?

We're told there was no contention among them [in 4 Nephi]. Is there any wonder about that? There's no contention. What, no plot in the play? We're not going to have any fun without contention. With us, after the buildup, after the climax, after the denouement, they ride into the sunset or they live happily every after. The play must end there, because the author or the playwright has nowhere to go. After all the problems, after all the dirty work, after all the dangers have been passed, then we say, "The cloudless skies are all serene. Oh joy, oh rapture unforeseen." They have no place to go, so the author has nothing to do but end the play. But that's where the play should begin. What kind of fun are they going to have after that if they've lost all the excitement, if it's all passed away? This, as Spangler says, is the ultimate disaster to civilization. After all our problems are solved, then we have nothing to do but collapse into a pile of ashes. We're not going anywhere. Problemlosigkeit is the absence of problems. We've got to have an answer here. ("Lecture 103: 4 Nephi 1", Teachings of the Book of Mormon: Semester 4)

Certain eternal things

There are certain things of which we never tire, with which we never become bored. Those are the things of eternity. Yet strangely enough it is these which we easily dismiss and neglect as if they were highly expendable. ("Goods of First and Second Intent", Approaching Zion)

Gospel automatons

We were very strictly brought up. When I was a little kid, we would sooner be dead than go to a movie on Sunday. That was absolutely unthinkable; we were petrified. But once a year, my mother would take my brother and me, and we would go to a show on Sunday. Well, I thought the lightning would strike us. I would go in tears. It was to [make this point] perfectly clear. If we didn't, we'd be perfectly helpless. We'd be automatons; we'd get no merit for not going. Of course, the lightning didn't strike or anything like that. But it was to show us that we were free to act. We could go if we wanted; therefore, if we didn't go, we got credit for that. Otherwise, we were just paralyzed; we were just automatons. We were just acting automatically. ("Lecture 49: Alma 12-14", Teachings of the Book of Mormon: Semester 2)