Banishing Snakes

St. Patrick's Day is a funny holiday--we all traipse around in our greenest clothes, pretending that we're Irish or that eating green pancakes and corned beef is a good idea. But today I was a little more reflective than the standard chase-and-pinch variety. In fact, in honor if it being St. Patrick's Day today, I've been thinking a bit about St. Patrick himself: credited with bringing Christianity to Ireland and for having banished snakes from the island, purportedly driving them into the sea. While the tale of the snakes is probably completely apocryphal, I believe that many legends spring from some element of truth--especially when said legends are based around real people.

I spent six months of my mission in Metz--a beautiful city in the Lorraine region of northeastern France--and was fascinated by its history. In one of the streets of the vieille ville (old city), a large wooden dragon hangs suspended between the buildings.I was startled the first time I saw it--it seemed a bit odd--but I mostly just wanted to know what it was and why it was there. I spoke to one of the members about it and discovered the legend of the Graoully. He was a terrible beast that wreaked havoc on the Messins until St. Clement, the bishop who brought Christianity to Metz, used a cross to drive the him into the river.

Now, I recognize that this tale is also highly unlikely--but the symbolism is somewhat striking. Further, I still hold to my belief that there is some truth to these myths--likely centered around the idea of Christianity putting an end to paganism or what may be seen as spiritual death. In a more true-to-life account, Moses saves the children of Israel from the fiery serpents by putting up a brass serpent for them to look to--a clear foreshadowing (as Alma underscores in 33:19-20) to Jesus Christ. Moses didn't drive the serpents into a body of water, but he nonetheless used the power of Christ to preserve the people from certain death.

Wherever the legends of St. Patrick and the Graoully spring from, I can't help thinking about the parallels in my life: how has the Gospel of Jesus Christ helped me to banish snakes and overcome fiery serpents? What are the dragons in my life that need to be dumped into the river? Most importantly, how does the atonement change me into the person God wants me to become? It's definitely food for thought--and a powerful application of an otherwise unimportant holiday.

So here's to holidays and legends that remind us of who we are. But I'm going to leave the leprechauns and rainbows for another day...

Spring on the Horizon

"To me the meanest flower that blows can give
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears."
--William Wordsworth

That's it--I've decided to be a blogger. I can't guarantee that it will last a tremendously long time, but I couldn't get past the desire to write today. And somehow, the desire wasn't appeased by my journal. I've been posting more one-liners on Facebook than normal and I figure I might as well bleed the thoughts over into more extensive writing.

Today is slated to be the warmest day of the year so far--sunny, blue sky, the works. I've always known that spring was my season, and I'm feeling it profoundly this morning. It's like we don't even realize that we're muddling through life until suddenly...we're not anymore. Don't get me wrong--I think winter is lovely. In fact, it snowed just the other day, but instead of joining the throng of Utah weather bashers, I just smiled and said, "It's not going to last, but it sure does make life interesting."

But in spite of a stubborn optimism, I can't deny that winter puts me into a rut. I went to my seminary teaching class this morning feeling...dry. Not in a tell-cynical-jokes kind of sense, but rather in an I'm-spiritually-thirsty sense. But I didn't want to be there. I felt negative. And when I'm in one of those moods, everything feels trite. How true it is that we can shut ourselves off from feeling.

At any rate, something was said or something slipped past my crustiness, and I started feeling severely emotionally vulnerable. Those are the times when we need the atonement of Jesus Christ the most--whatever the vulnerability stems from. And as we were reading through a talk in class, I was reminded of my favorite truth: the Gospel = repentance = positive change. I almost cried--not because it's a new idea, but because the application was new and important. I jumped into the discussion and started feeling like a "watered garden" again (Isaiah 58:11).

T.S. Eliot said that April--and by association, spring--is cruel for stirring roots in the comfortably forgetful earth. In some respects, he was right--change and growth hurt. But those little flowers poking their heads out signify getting out of the rut and feeling something good again.