My Art Work. Do not reproduce pictures with out permision.

I am in the best mood because I just had a really good experience. I didn’t have anything to do 8th hour, and I couldn’t find Heather, so I sat at the Swimmer’s table in the commons. Mr. Conneen stoped by and we talked about the Passion, and then Tristan asked me what my opinion was on Gay Marriage. Since I’d been in an itchy soapbox mood on topics like that all week, I asked if he was really sure he was asking me that. He would have withdrawn his question except that the whole table now was really curious and made me continue.

The conversation spiraled from gay marriage to temple marriage (with a few things in between). Everyone was asking me these wonderful questions, and I had so much fun answering them. It became really spiritual. More people started listening. I felt real passion pounding in my chest. This one kid – let’s call him “James” – was really interested in the temple. He wanted to know if I had been there, and I told him that in the temple I had the most amazing experiences of my life. He thought that was really cool.

Then someone said the magic words. “You’re just Mormon because your parents taught you to be Mormon. If your parents were Jewish, don’t you think you’d be Jewish?”

To that I could bear my testimony. I told him that my mom joined the Church as a teen against some of her family’s wishes. I said that I believe I would have made the same choice when I learned about the Church. I had previously explained the Book of Mormon to them, and so I was able to now tell them about my experience with it. I said that I was an independent teenager, and that I wouldn’t just be content believing my parents. I told them how I had instead investigated the Church thouroghly and read the Book of Mormon. The table became silent, and they all watched my intently except for two that had left the conversation. I had that wonderful feeling in my heart, the Spirit. The bell rang then, but they stayed to listen to me finish. I pulled out a spare copy of the Book of Mormon and read outloud Moroni 10:4-5.

I told them that thats what I did, that I read the book, speant countless hours pondering it, and then prayed. I showed them how I folded my arms, explaining that as I said, “Dear Heavenly Father” I was swept with this intense, amazing emotion; I told them that it was so strong that even just talking about that experience made me feel that powerful exstasy. “James” said, “You’re right, I really do feel it now.”

I could barely keep still. I told him that from that feeling inside I knew that the Book and the Church were true, and that if my parents today said they were leaving the Church, I would stay because I believed in the Church independently.

I asked them if anyone wanted to keep the Book of Mormon, and no one did. I really wanted “James” to have it, and he seemed like he was interested in it. It’s ok that he didn’t, though, because someone on my bus was interested in Joseph Smith, and so I gave it to him.

I guess what made this experience particullarly amazing was the event that foreshadowed it on Sunday. Sunday the missionaries came to my class and we enacted a missionary discussion. I pretended to be an investigator. I was kind of just playing along, doing my thing. Then Elder Jones asked me to pay attention to the feelings inside me as he quoted Joseph Smith. As soon as he started reciting, I felt a power so strong come over me I wanted to fall to my knees and praise God. (But I resisted and just sat there crying instead). The peace and warmth caught me completely off guard because I thought we were just pretending. Our class learned there that investigators will notice the Spirit if you point it out to them. The Elders told us to always acknowledge the Its presense. Well, I guess “James” noticed, and I told him exactly what the feeling was, and what it meant.

I have been on cloud nine ever since that experience because I know in my heart that the Spirit is true, and that what it makes me feel is right and good. It is the most wonderful sensation in the world. I love how I thought I knew passion.

You think that you know what good feels like. You think that going to Church and listening to a really powerful scripture is good. You think that listening to Aerosmith is good. You think that winning a debate is good. You think that your first kiss is good. But then you read the Book of Mormon. Then you pray about it. Then suddenly you don’t know what good is because the feeling that sweeps over you is so real and so exciting all other good things pale in comparison. And then that feeling comes back in little doses when you talk about it, or when spiritual things trigger it. It amazes me every time.

I guess that’s all I can say. If you haven’t read it, you can’t really know what I mean.

::relieving soapbox tension now::

“‘The Passion of the Christ’ is the most horrific film I’ve ever seen. I mean that literally and not as an artistic insult” (Cathleen Falsani,
page 18). Read her article in the Chicago Sun Times today. It is
amazing. I love how Falsani uses the same phrases I’ve been using for
the past few days like, “physically impossible for me to watch” and “I
believe that was [Gibson's good] intention and that it was heartfelt”
and it has “nothing spiritually inspiring” nor “anti-Semetic.” Falsani
actually saw the movie, but came to the exact same conclusion I came to
days ago with out seeing the movie. The next quote is on page 22, and
it fits me very well.

“I have no intention to see the film- in
fact, am making a point not to, which is not exceptional, since I don’t
see many movies . . . I am missing it, not for any idealogical reasons,
but for the simple fact that I don’t like bloody films, and this one by
all accounts is a pip” (Neil Steinberg, Sun Times, 22).

And now I get to soapbox.

I,
a zealous Christian addict, am boycotting The Passion of the Christ. I
am boycotting the movie not because it is anti-Semitic, or because it
is out of line with biblical passages (in fact, I suspect that it is
neither anti-Semitic nor unbiblical), but because it disrespects the
very person it honors

First of all, if it is violent enough to
be rated “R,” then it is violent enough to offend me. Christ himself
condemned violence, promoting instead love and peace. We read in
Galations (5:22) that the “fruits of the spirit”‘ are ” love, joy,
peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness,
temperance”. Violence does not create any of those emotions, and yet we
put pure violence in a supposedly spiritual film. It is not possible
for me, personally, to feel the Spirit manifest in love, joy, peace,
gentleness, etc. while watching the most horrific crime in history.

This
is not to say that violence is not part of the spiritual world. The
scriptures are full of violent scenes. However, the violence is always
a result of sin. Couldn’t we instead show in our entertainment the
results of righteousness?

If technology was different and Christ
was excecuted in an electric chair, would we watch him be electricuted
to death? I can’t. I can’t watch my Savior be tortured and murdered, I
would throw up and run to the screen at his feet, begging them to stop
what was going on. If I didn’t, then would I be different from Pilot?
What makes the crowds of thousands who will flood theaters to see “The
Passion of the Christ” any different from the mobs who went to see the
real Christ crucified. Both are looking for a bloody show.

Now
saying that I realize that there are some who will go to see the movie
because they are devout Christians who want to understand Christ
sacrifice. I believe, though, that this movie will not teach you
anything that you do not allready know or could not discover by reading
the scriptures. Go to the closest source. Study scripture, ponder, then
Pray. If you want to understand the sacrifice of God, ask God. Don’t
ask Gibson, ask God.

If you have the means and desire to really
honor Christ, why choose to show his darkest hour, when he is betrayed
by his friends and crucified by his people. Why do we celebrate the
torture of Jesus? There are so many moments in Christ’s life to
capture. So many miracles, teachings, and triumphs. Show him on the
Sermon on the Mount, or at the wells of bathsheba. Show him ascending
into Heaven. Show Mary crying by the garden tomb.

Clearly the
movie was meant to draw a large audience, and with good intention and
purpose, but do we need to use violence to draw a large following of
believers, or can we use God’s word? Don’t we have the faith to believe
that God’s word is powerful enough to draw God’s crowd?

So I haven’t mentioned several significant events over the past few weeks or so . . . namely, turn about, valentines day, my mural, Heather’s birthday, my weekend, my wonderful soapbox on marriage spurned by late night debates with my liberal Mormon friend (*cough* oxymoron) . . . lol, but I don’t have time now. Just don’t let me not tell you about them. And don’t let me not soapbox about why I’m boycotting Gibson’s The Passion of Christ . . .

Why the heck is this in my head it makes no sense . . . why do I like it?

I don’t understand me

I own the world. Oh the Cleverness of Me.

(Ok, so I was really happy)

Tonight was JV Conference and it was awesome. I got 4th place in the 500 (missing 3rd by a fraction of a second), with a 5:40!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My season goal was 5:45, and my previous best was a 5:55, a for me a 5:40 is amazing! Not to mention it puts me at fourth in the JV conference for the 500. Lalalalalalala Yeah!

When I got out of the water I was so happy and then all these swimmers started chanting my name and hugging me and patting me on the back and then I gave all the managers huge hugs, and then Susan, and then Phaffy, and then Ms. Monge!!!!!!! And then Lillydaul winked at me and shook my hand . . . It was awesome let me tell you.

Actually it was so awesome I really miss it, I was so excited for it to be over, but I feel like I can do more, like theres more time to cut, more races to swim. I don’t want it to be over for good. *sigh*

And after we won and became Conference Champs we through all the coaches in the water, and then I threw Amanda in the water and I turned pink which I didn’t expect and then they all tried to drown each other. It was great.

And then eventually it was time to go to Portillos only to find that all the cash had been stolen from my wallet (others had been robbed too). Sigh. What a bubble crusher.

So then Joe Rouse drove me and others to Portillo’s and that was an interesting ride . . . let me tell you. Actually I won’t tell you. You’ll have to ask, and maybe I’ll tell you, probably not though . . .

Go Super Seniors . . .

Don’t laugh . . . today I wore a speedo over my pants. And I wore a towel as a cape. And I wore goggles, and there was a big S on my shirt. Yes, that’s right, an S. For speedo. And for Super Stevenson Senior Swimmer.

Today was Super Hero Day.

It also happened to be Senior night, which is very exciting. I swam a 5:55 in the 500, which was awesome. I feel so much better this year compared to last year. This year my taper is working, I’m not sick, I’m not dealing with wierd social crisis, I’m swimming fast. It feels really good.

Coach Lilydaul said nice things about me when he gave his speach about the each of the seniors. It was cool. Anyway . . . I’m in a great mood. I love Coach Susan. yAy!

I’ll have to post pictures of superhero day.