Thanksgiving 1964

Thanksgiving 1964

(Loosely based on actual events)

Gregory Talley

            I always looked forward to Thanksgiving at Uncle Tex and Aunt Mary’s house.  The 90 minute drive to Linton under normal circumstances was unbearable for anybody between the ages of 5 and 18.  But, Thanksgiving was different.  Not only was it a time for the gathering of the cousins (and the requisite cheek-pinching, ooh’s and ahs’s, and “my-how-you’ve-grown” remarks from all the aunts) but it was a time to sit back and watch for the unanticipated yet fully expected fireworks.  This Thanksgiving would stand out as the granddaddy of them all.

            The day started out as a “normal” Thanksgiving, whatever that was.  Cousin Bob, the oldest cousin with children my age, pulled the clear glass bottle out of his pocket after the usual pleading of the younger cousins.  There, displayed for all to see, was the severed pinky finger permanently preserved for all to see and to remind us all of his connections to an Italian family in Chicago.  The girls ran screaming toward the kitchen.  Little Cousin Jenny stepped squarely on Foster’s tail.  Foster, Uncle Tex’s collie was perched under the side tray of Thanksgiving relishes.  Foster of course jumped and yelped, but in the process nudged the relish table just enough to send it crashing to the floor.  Silver and Berry, Aunt Mary’s cats both made a quick retreat upstairs and were not seen again for the rest of the day.

            The aunts fussed over Foster and Aunt Mary demanded that Uncle Tex place Foster outside or locked up in a bedroom upstairs.  The 10- and 11-year-old cousins pleaded with Uncle Tex to send Foster upstairs where they could play with him.  Poor Foster.

            The aunts cleaned up the mess and returned to dispensing justice to mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, rolls, home-canned green beans, stuffing,  homemade noodles,  ham, and the grand prize—that year’s turkey.

            With Cousin Bob’s preserved extra finger safely tucked away, it was time for Bob’s routine of magic tricks.  First came the thumb separation trick, which we older cousins had figured out years earlier, but it still fascinated the younger cousins.  But, next came the card tricks.  Bob could always pull off a good card trick.  “Pick a card—any card.”  And so, Uncle Howard would pick a card and then slide it back into the deck.  Like magic, Bob selected the correct card.  Then Bob pulled off the magic trick of all times.  He shuffled the cards, ran them up and down his shirt sleeve, then fanned them out for all to see, then ran them back together into a stacked deck.  With the flick of a wrist, he then fanned them out on the wall.  They stuck to the wall!  Cousin Billy was so excited with this magic feat that he ran to the wall and reached for the cards.  Cousin Bob screeched, “No!”, but it was too late.  Billy got to the cards first, half of which fell directly into the small fish aquarium.

            Anxious to help our Cousin Bob, Billy reached to the aquarium filled with angelfish to retrieve the errant cards, but Uncle Sid, the consummate fisherman, seeing Billy reaching for the cards made a preemptive strike to steady the aquarium—a full millisecond before Billy drove for the cards.  What would have been Billy’s forearm reaching to the blue rock-covered bottom of the aquarium ended up being Billy’s chin being struck by the upper edge of the glass enclosure and the weight of Uncle Sid’s fish-wrangling arms pulled down on the opposite side of the aquarium.

            Billy fell backwards, chin bleeding from a deep gash, just as Aunt Ota walked in the room carrying a bowl of hot gravy, and promptly tripped over Billy.  Luckily, there were only plates and silverware on the white table cloth-covered table.  Luckily, another table cloth would be retrieved and there would be time to re-wash dishes before dinner.  Meanwhile, though some of the water in the aquarium went straight up, most of it ended up in Uncle Sid’s face, shirt, and lap.  Aunt Mary rushed out of the kitchen to find out what the clamor was all about, hit the water and her feet went flying up as her better side came crashing down on the wet floor.  While her floor-length dress worked quite well as a sponge, it did little to cover her dignity, if you know what I mean.

            Three of the four angelfish were quickly found.  The fourth was found between the three-inch wool fringes on the rug at the foot of the chair where Uncle Sid sat.  Sid found it when he stood.  The remaining three fish were transferred to Foster’s water bowl for temporary holding, where they were forgotten.

            Cousin Bob, adhering to the principle that discretion is the better part of valor, cancelled the remainder of his Mafia Finger and Magic Card Show.  Uncle Sid, with his 36-inch waist and 15-1/2 size shirt borrowed a 44-inch pair of slacks and 17-1/2 size shirt from Uncle Tex.  The cousins, with the exception of Billy, picked up pea-size blue rocks and fishbowl castle pieces.  Miraculously, the aquarium remained intact.

            The table was finally set and Aunt Marry called for everybody to the table, including the 10- and 11-year-old cousins who were upstairs with Foster.  Uncle John was given the privilege of offering a Prayer of Thanksgiving as we all stood behind the backs of the chairs.  Bob, the magician and irreverent family member took a drink of water during the prayer, but the water only made its way partially to its destination when Uncle John thanked God that nobody had been killed in the house yet that day.  Water shooting though the nose makes such a distinctive sound.

            Thanksgiving dinner proceeded without incident.  No hits.  No runs.  No errors.  Not even Foster, who had come to dinner with the 10- and 11-year-old cousins, misbehaved.  He knew his place at the table and his place did not include begging—most of the time.

            At the conclusion of dinner, Aunt Mary announced that it was time for pie.  She and Mother and the other aunts excused themselves from the table and went to the kitchen to gather the pies.

            You don’t expect to hear a shriek from the kitchen unless there is something very wrong—like Dracula or Frankenstein peering through the window.  Clearly an empty dog’s water bowl does not merit such a reaction.  I don’t think that Uncle Tex and Aunt Mary ever replaced the angelfish.

            Before the five sisters brought the pies into the dining room, Mom asked Dad to help with one of the pies that had just come out of the oven.  Dad looked so important walking into the dining room wearing the oven mittens and carrying a fresh, hot pie.  And the pie looked so graceful as it flew from his hands and into the back end of the turkey carcass still on the dining room table.

            I do not think those were tears of thanksgiving that day.  Aunt Mary was in tears because of the perfectly ruined Thanksgiving.  Aunt Jessie was in tears because of the contribution that Cousin Billy had made to the festivities.  The remaining aunts were simply in tears and the uncles discreetly laughed through their tears.

            We cousins couldn’t wait to see what would happen on Thanksgiving of 1965.  Surely nothing could top the Thanksgiving of 1964.

            The 90-minute ride home was in silence, but I couldn’t help but smile all the way home.

Homemade Noodles and Traditions

Like many families, my family has traditions that have been handed down from generation to generation.  I am certain that some traditions have fallen by the wayside along the way and I know for a fact that new traditions have either been introduced or established.  Family traditions serve as sort of glue that binds a family.  I guess some glues lose their holding power and are replaced.

There is one particular tradition in my family that I fear is dying out.  I think I am the last one in a long line of generations to savor this tradition.  The tradition?  Homemade noodles.

Homemade noodles, you ask?

Yes, homemade noodles, especially at Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Homemade noodles were a favorite dish of my paternal and maternal grandparents.  I remember my mother rolling out the noodle dough on the countertop while a turkey was in the oven.  Once rolled out, she would use a handheld noodle cutter to cut long strips of noodles.  She would then let them dry.  After the noodles were dried she would cook them in a pot, generally along with a turkey neck.  About the time the potatoes were done cooking in the pressure cooker the noodles would be ready to come off the stove.  When done, the noodles were slippery and the meat from the turkey would simply fall off the bone.  Oh, how I loved homemade noodles, especially at Thanksgiving.

Noodle preparation was passed down from my mother to Susan, who now makes them for me at Thanksgiving.  Unfortunately, I don’t believe any of my children or grandchildren enjoy the tradition of homemade noodles the way I enjoy them.

Though new traditions come along (like an annual Turkey Bowl), it’s rather sad to think that some of the old traditions fall away.  I know for a fact that I am a third generation noodle lover and I can only believe that my grandmothers learned how to make noodles from their mothers or their mothers-in-law, who learned it from their mothers, who also learned it….  Well, you get the picture.  And, it’s rather sad that mothers’ children and their husbands and friends no longer sit around the Thanksgiving Day table and say, “You know, I think I’d like to have some more noodles with another slice of that turkey.  A little more cranberry sauce would be good, too.  I can have a slice of pie later.”  It’s rather sad to think that a tradition like noodles can’t be the glue that holds generations together.

I guess traditions are like noodles.  They are slippery, but when properly remembered they tie you to ancestors you’ve never met.  But if not, they slide away.  Luckily, I’ll be able to sit at the Thanksgiving table again this year and get to know ancestors again that I’ve never met.

It Takes Work to have Faith

As I sat contemplating world events that have transpired in recent weeks, months, and years, a question kept returning to my mind that I’ve heard many of my atheist friends ask.  It goes something like this.  “If there is a God, why does he allow war and famine and disease and crime and natural disasters?  Why doesn’t He prevent bad things from happening to good people?”

A quick note here: Since atheists don’t believe in God I’m not sure that they would capitalize the G in God or the H in He.  But, I just can’t do that.

It is not my intent to get into a discussion about why God doesn’t intervene, though the question presupposes that He doesn’t intervene or that He doesn’t have a higher purpose in not intervening, which I am not in a position to answer.  I’m not God.  I think that there is something else at work here.

As I pondered on that question another thought came to my mind.  In essence, it is that it takes hard work to believe and trust in God.  It takes work to have faith in God.  It is easy to dismiss the very existence of God if you cannot see Him, if you have not heard His voice, if you have not followed His footsteps in the sand.  It doesn’t take any work; it doesn’t take any effort to not believe in God.  All you have to do is look around and say, “I don’t see Him.  I don’t know anybody who has seen Him (in spite of all the scriptural evidence).  He hasn’t revealed Himself to me.  I’ve not heard His voice.  Therefore, He is not.  He does not exist.”

It is interesting how this works.  For generations people could not see bacteria, yet they believed.  And then they saw.  For generations people could not see molecules, yet they believed.  And then they saw.  For generations people could not see atoms, yet they believed.  And then they saw.  It is so easy for people to believe in the physical without seeing.  Then with the search, they are able to see.

As a believer I have often been criticized because of my belief in the necessity of works to accompany faith.  Unfortunately, people don’t understand that my faith does not teach or believe that we can work our way into Heaven.  To the contrary, we know that it is by grace that we are saved.  You see, we believe that it is necessary to obey the commandments to enter the presence of God, but it isn’t just a matter of obedience.  Further, there are different levels of obedience.  Some people obey because they are afraid of the punishment that will follow if they disobey.  Others obey because they want the reward.  A higher level of obedience comes simply because they love the Savior and want to please Him.  They obey because they love the Lord.  This level is nearly perfect, but I believe there is an even higher level that the Lord wants us to achieve and that is to obey because that is who we are.  It is our nature to do what is right because that is who we are. Yes, it is an outgrowth of obedience because of our love of the Savior, but it has grown to an entirely new level. In this regard, we have become as Him.  This level approximates the fulfillment of the Savior’s admonition to become perfect even as He is perfect (Matt. 5: 48).  Clearly, we are not perfect, but when we come to obey because that is who we are we have then achieved this one divine attribute.  It is a difficult challenge, but I believe we can achieve this perfect obedience one divine attribute at a time and that we have eternity to get there.

I digress.  I always do.

But as I thought of how easy it must be to be an atheist and how hard it is to believe, the oft quoted scripture in James came to mind.  “Even so faith, if it hath not works, is dead, being alone.  Yea, a man may say, Thou hast faith, and I have works: shew me thy faith without thy works, and I will shew thee my faith by my works. Thou believest that there is one God; thou doest well: the devils also believe, and tremble.  But wilt thou know, O vain man, that faith without works is dead?” (James 2:17 - 20).

And then it hit me.  This scripture has a second meaning.  It takes work to have faith.  Without effort; without hard laborious work; without that desire to believe and without thrusting in with all your effort there can be no faith.  Indeed, faith without works is dead.

It would be so much easier to do nothing and to live a moral life and not be concerned about what may follow.

I'd rather work.

Why the Backlash against the LDS Church's Stance on Gays in the Church should Concern You

Why the Backlash against the LDS Church's Stance on

Gays in the Church should Concern You

Ever since the unofficial leak of an addition of policy clarifications to Book One of the Handbook of Instructions to leaders of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has gone public there has been an outcry of condemnation against the Church.  To be fair, there has also been a significant amount of support on social media for the stance that the Church has taken.  Now, just in case you have been living under a rock during the past few days there were actually two policy clarifications.  The first clarification stated that gay members of the Church who are living together as married partners are in a state of apostasy and as such are candidates for Church discipline.  The statement does not say that they are to be excommunicated, though that is a possibility.  The second statement is the one that has probably caused the greatest amount of angst toward the Church.  This policy states that children living in gay households (households of same sex partners) are not to be blessed as children of record nor are they to be baptized at the age of eight but must wait until they are 18 (legal age of emancipation) and disavow same sex marriage.  Explanations for this policy have been given, which is not the focus of my comments here.  If you want to understand why then I invite you to research any of the Church-released news articles.

Comments on social media have been fast, furious, and numerous.  The comments have ranged from it's a cult anyway to disgraceful, hateful, and spiteful to how could a church that espouses love do such a thing to if you don't like their church don't be a Mormon to it's their church so they can make their own rules to if you disagree with it then you should find a church that teaches what you believe to three cheers for the Mormons for standing up for what they believe to finally, a church that follows the Bible.  There have been other comments that praise and condemn the Church, but you get the general idea of the range of comments here.

While I appreciate the kinder comments toward the end of the previous paragraph, there may be a few things lacking in those sentiments and most of them miss the mark.  It is not my objective here to persuade anyone to believe the way we as Latter-day Saints believe on the two issues that I have described above.  As I said, you can search those explanations out on your own.  But, there is so much wrong here that I am having a difficult time determining where to start.  Yeah, where to begin?

First, I guess, I would like to talk about the accusation that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints being a cult.  I suppose that if those who banter that term around understood the meaning of that word that they wouldn't mean it as the offensive term.  Likewise, if it wasn't for the fact that Mormons understand the intent of the insult and the slight offered by those who call the Church a cult, perhaps we wouldn't get upset by the use of that term.   A cult is "a small religious group that is not part of a larger and more accepted religion and that has beliefs regarded by many people as extreme or dangerous" (Merriam-Webster).  Using that definition, Christ's Church that he organized while in mortality could easily be called a cult.  It was a small religious group that was not part of a larger and more accepted religion and had beliefs regarded by many people as extreme.  I don't think it was regarded as dangerous (except to the adherents who were put to death) and I don't recall anybody referring to the LDS Church as dangerous (except for the martyrs of the Church).  And by the way, I'm not so sure that the Mormon Church meets the definition of small in the United States anymore since it is the third largest denomination in the country.

There now, I got that off my chest.

It seems that we live in an era of political correctness.  Indeed, there has been a fair amount of backlash against political correctness of late, but I fear that ship has already left the harbor and political correctness will be here to stay for a long time, perhaps forever.  But, I am wondering when political correctness is not necessarily correct.  Can something be politically incorrect and yet correct at the same time?  At the risk of sounding politically incorrect, if something has been black for eons, if we decided to call it white, will it magically become white?  Does gender reassignment change a person’s DNA?  If you refer to a cat long enough as being a dog, will it become a dog?  Is it possible that there are some things that won’t change no matter how hard one tries to change it?

It seems that there has been quite a bit of that lately.  For thousands of years and in virtually every culture in the world marriage has been defined as a union of a man and a woman.  Yet, it seems with the stroke of a pen we have changed that definition to include unions of a man to a man or a woman to a woman.  I suppose we’ve done that because we have come so far in our civilization and we are so much more enlightened than our ancestors were.  In some people’s rush to rewrite history it seems that a few things have been forgotten or purposefully left out.

I think that most people believe that Mahatma Gandhi was a fairly intelligent and wise man.  I think we could safely say that his wisdom was meant for the ages.  I recall years ago how he was venerated as all thoughtful, wise, caring, and knowing.  I’m sure that we’ve all heard about the seven deadly sins, but Gandhi had his own list of seven deadly sins.  As I reviewed them I am beginning to think that he was onto something and that we as a society are slipping into a deep chasm as we dismiss each of his listed deadly sins.

 Wealth without Work

Pleasure without Conscience

Science without Humanity

Religion without Sacrifice

Knowledge without Character

Commerce (Business) without Morality (Ethics)

Politics without Principle

             I am concerned that in these days we have taken upon ourselves to define God in our own image and not the other way around.  What I mean by that is that the notion of finding a church that fits your social agenda may not be in your best interests.  Last time I checked, God didn’t abdicate His position as “The Mighty God, the Everlasting Father” with the government upon His shoulder (Isaiah 9: 6).  Assuming that He is still “the same yesterday, and today, and forever” (Hebrews 13: 8), I’m thinking that the things that He identified as just plain wrong in the Bible are still wrong today.  Unfortunately, what I am seeing as people rush off to find a religion that fits their own lifestyle is that they are finding those teachers of religion that teach for doctrine the commandments of men (See Matt. 15: 9; Mark 7: 7; and Titus 1: 14).

            You know, there used to be a time in United States history that adultery was a felony.  Now in many states adultery is merely a petty misdemeanor if a crime at all.  Many people today engage in adultery without moral remorse at all.  A sin that was once considered second only to murder is now considered an indiscretion.  Has God rescinded the seventh commandment?  I don’t think so.  At least I have not seen any written evidence that He has rescinded it.  I’m pretty sure that it is still a grievous sin. 

            Therefore what, you may ask.  Why should the backlash against the LDS Church's stance on gays in the Church concern me? 

            I am reminded of Pastor Martin Niemöller who penned a little poem after being placed in a German concentration camp during World War II.  The poem comes as a result of his observations of the Nazis rounding up seemingly insignificant groups, beginning with incurable patients, then Jehovah’s Witnesses and eventually the Jews.

First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Socialist.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.

 I can’t help but wonder if those who are finding fault with the Church’s stance on gays in the Church, especially those who don’t believe the doctrine of the Church anyway, might have their own belief that they hold sacred.  And I wonder if their integrity would cause them to stand firm in the face of opposition.  I wonder if their honor would remain fixed in the face of changing social pressure. 

Then there is the issue of not allowing children of gay children living in those households to be baptized.  From the reaction of those outraged by this policy “change” you would think that it was an idea that was dreamed up in the executive washroom of the Republican National Committee.  (Again, it is not my intent to convince anybody that this was a good move.  The Church has published its rationale for this move and you can find it at http://www.mormonnewsroom.org/article/handbook-changes-same-sex-marriages-elder-christofferson?HP_FR_11-6-2015_dPAD_fCNWS_xLIDyL1-A_.  If you go to that website you will also be able to watch a short video news release by Elder D. Todd Christofferson of the Church’s Quorum of the Twelve Apostles explaining the move.  By the way, I invite you to do a little homework and scope out Elder Christofferson’s personal background.)  To the contrary, this “change” is patterned after policies the Church has adopted for situations such as children of polygamous marriages.  This was not a decision made by one man, namely Thomas S. Monson, President of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  This unanimous decision was made by 15 men who spent days in discussion after deep study and prayer.  This unanimous decision was made by 15 men who spend several months out of each year traveling the world talking to local Church leaders and ordinary members of the Church.  And then they talk.  And then they formulate a plan of action.  And then they take it to the Lord.  And they wait for confirmation.  And then they move forward.  If I had to guess I would suspect that this policy “change” was years in the making. 

A church that sends tens of thousands of young men and young women all over the world to proclaim the gospel and to bring converts into the Church does not sit around in their executive councils and ask what they can do to discourage people from joining the Church.  It does not fret so much about its growth that its leaders decide upon a plan to cull its membership down to a manageable size.  A church that proclaims to be the "stone cut out of the mountain" (Daniel 2: 45) doesn't say, "Oops! We're moving down the mountain a little fast and gathering too much momentum; it's time to stop this baby."  Church leaders don’t sit back and say to themselves, “Well, let’s see what we can do to shoot ourselves in the foot today.”  Rather, they sit back and ask what needs to be done to stay true to the faith.

But, isn’t this policy inconsistent with the Church’s own Article of Faith that states that we believe that we are punished for our own sins and not for Adam’s (note that it says Adam and not parents) transgressions?  Exactly.  Besides, I think that if you carefully study the scriptures that you will find that the consequences of parents’ sins frequently are visited upon their posterity.  That doesn’t mean that they are punished. 

I really don’t want to get into a discussion or debate about whether or not the Church’s position is right.  Borrowing from something that I’ve read a few times, I’m not blindly following.  I’m following because I see.

But for everybody else I would suggest that you be very careful about casting stones, especially if you live in a glass house and especially if you have a truth that you hold close as there will likely be a time in your life when political correctness will take a swipe at you.  Take a look around and see if there is anybody left to defend you.