Ron Tenney

The Language of Prayer

2011-03-05T18:13:00.000-08:00

In "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn", Huck finds himself in a real dilemma. What is he to do about Jim? As he reflects on his situation, he realizes that there is no easy way out. What follows are these classic lines:

"And I about made up my mind to pray, and see if I couldn't try to quit being the kind of a boy I was and be better. So I kneeled down. But the words wouldn't come. Why wouldn't they? It warn't no use to try and hide it from Him. Nor from ME, neither. I knowed very well why they wouldn't come. It was because my heart warn't right; it was because I warn't square; it was because I was playing double. I was letting ON to give up sin, but away inside of me I was holding on to the biggest one of all. I was trying to make my mouth SAY I would do the right thing and the clean thing, and go and write to that nigger's owner and tell where he was; but deep down in me I knowed it was a lie, and He knowed it. You can't pray a lie — I found that out."

What Huck found out was that the effectiveness of his prayer was not going to be based on the language employed (thank heavens for Huck!). The essence of effective prayer is real intent. It is based on respect, reverence and faith. But real intent is the key. James 1:5 is familiar to all members of our church. But in the verse that follows we read: But let him ask in faith, nothing wavering. For he that wavereth is like a wave of the sea driven with the wind and tossed.

And again, we read in Moroni 10 the promise. After reading and pondering, what is the key to unlock revelation? “…if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ..."

I look in vain to see in the formula the use of proper language in prayer. I hear about it from time to time in things I read and sermons I hear. How I wish we spoke Spanish (or even Portuguese - Gary) when it comes to prayer. As a missionary, little time was spent on the "Language of Prayer" even among the poorest of the poor in Chile. Speak to God, your Father, as you would your loving spouse or tender child.

I read a talk by Elder Bruce R. McConkie once about prayer. I remember feeling nonplused after first reading his talk. (I have a habit of reacting that way to some of his material).

But I re-read it in light of tomorrow's lesson and came away with a different feeling.
Rather and reading his "suggestions" on how to avoid vain repetitions (by using his words instead), maybe my challenge is to write some of my deepest and most reverent thoughts that can help me to penetrate the sound barrier and sin barrier, bringing me to the very alter of God, or maybe even to the bosom of my eternal daddy.
When in Rome, do as the Romans do. When in Church, used the prescribed language of prayer. I should never use the prayer to divert attention away from God. There, I speak as the voice of all present. But when in my closet, remember that one of the Savior's final pleas was "Abba". He is my daddy too.

Coups to Courts

2011-02-02T20:23:00.000-08:00

From Coups to Celestial Courts

When I was about 12 years old, our ward was part of the Flagstaff Arizona stake of the church. It was a huge stake, well over 200 miles from one end to the other. There was a desire for Prescott Arizona to become a Stake of its own. One thing the Church required of us was to have a specific “Welfare Project”, something that we could do to contribute to the welfare of the overall church. My dad, Boyd Tenney, was on the High Council. He had deep roots in the Prescott area, was a rancher and cattle broker and owned a Purina feedstore. This put him in close contact with many people involved in agriculture. He learned of a poultry operation in Chino Valley, AZ that was available for sale. Eventually the poultry operation or “chicken farm” as we knew it, was purchased. The Stake was split and now Prescott had our very own welfare project.
Maybe it is just my imagination, but it seems that as one of Boyd’s kids, I had many “opportunities” to work at the chicken farm. What was that like? It was the filthiest work I have ever done in life. These coups were about 100 feet long. The work often entailed going in and shoveling the manure, straw, dirt and dust out and putting in fresh straw. The smell of ammonia was so overwhelming that my eyes would burn, my throat would close up and I would feel like I was choking. Sneezing, coughing, teary eyes and back-breaking work – what a joy! Returning home was such a relief. I hated working at the chicken farm. Or did I? There was a feeling, deep inside my chest, beneath the secretions in my airways, that my contribution was worthy. It was the feeling you get when you do something good and necessary that you know others prefer not to do.
Fast forward about 45 years. Last week volunteers were recruited to go to the Mesa Temple and assist in cleaning after hours. Marilyn and I volunteered and spent one late Friday evening there. We were asked to help in the upper floors of the temple. Dressed in white, with dust cloths in hand, we went up to the highest courts of the temple and there spent a few hours cleaning, vacuuming, dusting and polishing. It may be more accurate to say that we were in search of a speck of dust to capture and discard. I felt so good when I actually noticed some small thing that needed attention. But to be in these sacred areas, serving, thinking about what the Temple represents was a real joy. No iPods, no music, nothing but silence. That is when my mind returned to the memories of the chicken farm. What a contrast there was. Besides the environment, the opportunity to be in the Temple at all is a sacred privilege in and of itself.
The contrasts are very stark. But there are some similarities as well. Service is needed. Volunteers have to step forward. But surely cleaning the House of the Lord is far more worthy an activity that a filthy chicken coup.
Strangely, I began to analyze each activity in the quiet moments in the temple and came to some surprising conclusions. When I left the coup, I was filthy. When I left the temple, was felt more clean and pure than when I entered. At first glance, there is no comparison which activity was more worthy and uplifting. Leviticus has many chapters devoted on what makes us ritually and spiritually impure and what steps are needed to reclaim our purity.
So the questions raised by these stories are as follows:
1. Willingness
When given the “opportunity to serve”, what goes through my mind? Do I celebrate the all chances to serve equally? What do I say to myself when volunteers are requested for the coups of life?
2. Why do I serve? The classic talk given in General Conference by Dallin Oaks in October 1984 lists five possible motives for service. I fall far short of the ultimate motivation – the love of God, so often.
3. Does God have a system of ranking service? If so, it surely must favor the simple, contrite and authentic. From the tears and the alabaster box of ointment bathing the feet of the Savior (in the presence of “honored guests”) to the widow’s mite (giving her all in the face of greater contributions from their abundance), it seems to me that the Savior prefers the simple, honest and quiet contributions.

My conclusion is that the feelings I felt after working with chicken manure was one of worthiness and peace. Did I want to rush back the next day to repeat this experience? No. But still, there was sweet feeling doing something no one else wanted to do. Serving in the temple was one that purified me, leaving me cleaner. But I feel well suited to be a pooper-scooper if only at the gates of the Kingdom.

Dave Welch - a small tribute

2010-11-09T21:51:00.000-08:00

Everyone will tell you that they had a “best friend” growing up. Here is a picture of my best friend, Dave Welch. I will make this brief, but I just want to tell you all how much I loved this guy and how, after 33 years it still brings tears to my eyes to think that he died so young.

But it is not about his death that I wish to comment. It is his life that is so memorable. I could post some pretty funny pictures of a nerd right out of the early 70’s. Dave wore the high-water pants, glasses and was long and gangly. When I was around him, I seemed to lose the very tentative hold I had on my inhibitions. He was so funny that it made me want to be the clown as well.

Dave was the smartest guy in our High School (at least in the class of ’72). I was close in math, but that's all. We were both in football, track, choir and scouts. We got our Eagle Scout Award the same night. We had the same passions, right up to and including having the same girlfriends. (Yes, sometimes at the same time – not fun). Dave talked me into joining Key Club and then running for a state-wide office. I won. I didn’t have any idea what to do, but I did it anyway). I only ran because he told me to. Returning the favor, I talked him into trying out for All State Choir. Dave was not a good singer. He was in our choir because he was a great drummer and he was needed for the Vocal Ensemble. When we got to Flagstaff, he performed the solo he had prepared and then had to try to "sight read" some very difficult music. He told me how embarrassing it was for him. We laughed so hard. Later that same day, there was in indoor High School track meet inside the doom at NAU. We had signed up. I threw the shot put and he threw the discus. Not until we and signed in did he discover that they don’t have the discus as an event in an indoor meet. (duh? Not too safe) So he decided to throw the shot put instead. As luck would have it, he followed the state record holder in this event, Bob Breunig. The announcer would stop all events every time it was Breunig’s turn to throw the shot put. After his taking his stance, hyperventilating, skipping, spinning and emitting a guttural yell, the crowd would all applause. Then Dave stepped into the circle and in his faded orange sweats, he would just step to the front and push the shot put; no glide, no turn and no yell.

Why are these memories so vivid? I think it is because he and I could laugh at each other. It was so easy for me to be me around Dave. But that is not the whole truth.

When I looked at the degree of self-discipline Welch had, I recognized that if I didn’t gain that, I would never amount to much. I had talents that he did not have. In fact, we sort of had a mutual admiration thing going. But I had rules, religion and family structure to keep me on some sort of a good path. Dave’s parents trusted him to do the right thing and to be responsible. So he did. We had other friends that were using drugs back in those days. I did not, mostly likely because of religious constraints. Dave had an internal guide that led him.

I could write pages about Dave. I must say that our friendship was called “The Brothers Three”. Richard Kenneth Harvey was as much a part of this friendship as Dave or I. Harvey and shared the same faith and many other things. He too was a football player (until his knees gave out), a track star, a singer (he was good enough to make all state choir) and more. One of our favorite past times was to go through a list of all of the girls in our class and talk about which ones would be a good match for Harvey. If you ever ask me about the trip we took to California at Christmas 1977, you will see me laugh until I cry. What the heck, here is a shortened version. One night Harvey wanted to take the care and get some pop or something. After he Harvey left the motel it seemed that he was gone way too long. I know this may not make any sense, but Welch, Curtis Klofkorn and I were playing cards and were wondering Harvey was gone so long. We should have been worried. Harvey sometimes did not have the best luck. We start guessing what bad thing could have happened and kept speculating about worse and worse possibilities. When he came in the motel door, he had this look on his face and announced that he had been robbed. There was a moment of silence followed by the three of us bursting out laughing and literally rolling around on the floor repeating that Harvey had been robbed. He was not amused. Maybe you had to be there.

As I remember Dave, the critical role of friends looms large in my life. Thank you, friends, for all you have done for me. If I start a roll call, I will surely admit one of you. You know who you are.

And thanks for all of you friends of Marilyn, Rhett, Sandee, Gary, Angela, Troy, Trevor and Brandon. I recognize that substantial, even enormous credit that is due to you friends.

Mixed feelings about new book on Washington

2010-10-12T08:34:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite biographies of all time is Alexander Hamilton by Ron Chernow. He is an amazing biographer and I love the way he composes his thoughts. It seemed to me that I was reading Prose rather than just plain history.

As anyone who knows me can attest, my favorite subject of history is George Washington. I love and revere this man so much. I an a bit defensive when I hear criticism of him in fact.

One more preliminary point..

I made a promise to myself that I would not not buy another book from Costco until I had read more of the ones I already have.

So much to my surprise when shopping there yesterday, I saw a brand new book, over 800 pages long written by one of my favorite biographers on my favorite subject. The binding is wonderful and it was just calling me, "Buy me! One more book will not hurt. You are going on a long trip next week. I will be your companion!" It all made sense to me.

Then I opened the jacket and began to read about this volume. I was disturbed at what I read. It seems to be a psycho-biography where a person comes along many years later and peels back the cranium to seen what was going in there... (ala Fawn Brody and her biography of Joseph Smith - "No Man Knows My History")

I think I want to be open to all information but prefer to read biographies written by fans of the subject matter, not just critics. If you want to read a well-written biography of Washington, Joseph Ellis's "His Excellency" will fill the bill.

So what to do?

I decided to download the audiobook and give that a try. The reader is Scott Brick, the same narrator that did Alexander Hamilton. He has a terrific voice.

Stay tuned. Maybe after over 40 hours of listening, I can come back and recommend or not recommend this book.

The Great and Wonderful Love

2010-05-12T06:30:00.000-07:00

I was reading a talk given by Anthony Perkins in the October 2006 Conference. It is titled "The Great and Wonderful Love". Rarely have a read a talk where so much is said in so few words. I recommend spending a day reading these words and would appreciate feedback on "the snares" listed and the five solutions listed. I found that just following footnotes was very insightful.
I love how every scenario Satan presents can be defeated by understanding and using the scriptures. Many of the citations are of scriptures that are not frequently cited in other talks.
I am inadequate, imperfect and have guilt. But it is the false, exaggerated and needless aspect that drags me down.
Any insights or comments are welcome.

Prayer of the Heart or Alma's cry

2010-04-23T07:02:00.000-07:00

What is the “Jesus Prayer” or the “Prayer of the Heart”? A few years ago I was listening to a Princeton podcast about prayer. One of the participants talked about the Jesus Prayer, or the Prayer of the heart. This is a prayer that seems to be very ancient, coming out of the desert in the early Christian church. Two interesting links about this prayer can be found at Wikipedia and http://www.prayerofheart.com/.

Apparently, the practice of meditation and repetition of this simple prayer has been useful to induce an altered state of reverence and communion with God. When I heard the podcast I recognized the words as being approximately what Alma “the younger” cried while in his altered state of pain, anxiety and despair. While listening to the most recent talk by Elder Holland I was reminded of this prayer. Near the end of this address, full of the deepest emotion I feel Elder Holland experienced while giving this talk, he repeated the words of Alma.

I find it fascinating that Alma the Younger uttered nearly the identical words and was delivered from captivity. What is it about these words, uttered from a completely broken heart, that have the power to deliver one from “…the pains of a damned soul” racked with “…inexpressible horror” to a state of “…remembering my pains no more” “being filled with “…joy, marvelous light”?
Your thoughts are welcomed.

Every Year or so I guess I ought to add a post

2010-01-23T18:26:00.000-08:00

Since it has been nearly one year since I posted a blog, it is high time I did it again! What a wonderful year it has been. With the family trip to the Holy Land, the return of Trevor from South Africa, the birth of Dillon, trips with the kids and with Chad and Marsha, a great Richardson Reunion the time spent at the new cabin, scuba diving in the Maldives - who can not feel grateful for all of that?

Even though each one of these activities deserve a few paragraphs of their own, I will come back to them later. I do feel like mentioning that I love the scriptures. I think that I will mention something that most interests me... I have been very interested in learning more about the Old Testament. I have been reading various books about the Old Testament. My favorite is the one titled, "Sperry Symposium Classics, The Old Testament". So many of these essays are amazing.

One book I am now enjoying is "Reflection on the Psalms" by CS Lewis. There are some interesting insights. I noted that this essay seems to stir controversy among some critics. I don't look at it as the gospel truth, but some of his ideas are so pertinent. One more book that I have read some chapters in is "Voices of Old Testament Prophets: The 26th Annual Sidney B. Sperry Symposium".
I am looking forward to this year's study in Sunday School. I would love to have some discussion about the OT if any of you that may read this blog feel like contributing.

Have a wonderful weekend.
Ron

Thoughts about the death of Pat Tillman

2009-02-21T18:17:00.000-08:00

I want to write about things that I have been experiencing in my life. I find that Facebook is a bit of a time waster. I would prefer to write about things that matter to me. So I will start with a review of a book I recently read. It is "Books on the Ground by Dusk" by Mary Tillman, Pat's mother.

The very day that Pat Tillman died, as we were sitting around the breakfast table, I told my sons that there was really one athlete that I admired above all others at that time. It was Pat Tillman. Like so many others, I thought about the career he left behind to be an Army Ranger, the intensity with which he approached football and the quiet way he and his brother, Kevin, had gone about joining the Rangers. An hour later, when I arrived at work, I heard the news that Pat was killed in Afghanistan. I literally wept for a minute or two because I was sad to have him gone. I expected so much more from his life. I figured someday he would be a US Senator or something.

I followed the press stories closely. I tuned in the radio at work during his Memorial Service a week or so later. I was inspired by what I heard. There was one point in the service that was appalling to me. When his younger brother, Richard took the stand and with profane language said that Pat was not with God, but was just dead, my stomach turned. Richard sounded drunk to me and I was embarrassed for his family, the guests that had paid tribute to him the country at large. I wondered how Pat would have felt about tribute.

A few months later I learned that Pat was not killed in combat with a Taliban militia, but by his own men. Isn't the phrase"Friendly Fire" a weird way to say that you have killed one of your own?I was stunned and confused. I later remembered that there was a Congressional hearing and the behavior of the Military was sharply criticized for covering up the real nature of Pat's deathand grossly overstating the facts surrounding the injuries and subsequent rescue of Jessica Lynch. I have always wondered about the "rest of the story". When I saw this book in Barnes and Noble's I couldn't resist.

Mary Tillman is no ordinary mom. Her love for her sons, her pride and protective spirit are nearly universal maternal traits. But is it is the dogged determination and persistence to not allow the questionable circumstances of Pat's death go by without a thorough investigation that amazes me. This book is a page turner, even if many of her findings are related repeatedly in this book. I came away with such mixed feelings. I find the life of Pat to be as inspiring to me as before, maybe more so since I learned more about him. I was surprised that Mary does not fill the pages with all of his football accomplishments. I think the record speaks for itself in this regard.

What is so shocking to me is that those men who are responsible for his death and the subsequent cover up have largely still not been forced to account for their actions. I personally believe the conspiracy to cover up the real circumstances on that fateful day go all the way to the top: George Bush and Donald Rumsfeld. It believe that the 'story" as a boast to the morale of the American people at a very low point in the war, outweighed the need for honesty in the minds of the PR department of the Pentagon.

What I can't say is whether Pat was actually assassinated by men in his group for some bizarre and unknown motive. If you know me at all, you know that I tend to have a reflexive disliking of grand conspiracy theories. But if anyone can read this book or examine the facts from some other point of view and share your thoughts or perspectives with me, I would be very grateful.

My next book is " Traitor to His Class: The Privileged Life and Radical Presidency of Franklin Delano Roosevelt"

Stay tuned.

Back when I was a cowboy...

2008-12-18T21:04:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas from us to you!

2008-12-16T05:15:00.000-08:00

Last night we attended the Dickens play, "A Christmas Carole". It was performed in the local Hale Theater. It was a blast. Nearly every one of the Oasis Animal Clinic Employees were there. Attached is a photo of Marilyn, Brandon and me as well as one of the employees.
I have much to be thankful for. I have a wonderful family, good health and a meaningful career. I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas. My next post will be after our family's trip to the Holy Land. I will give a report when we get back.
Ron

Cozumel 2008

2008-09-18T18:53:00.000-07:00

As some of you know, Troy and I went to Cozumel in August 2008. I will attempt to post a video link to a youtube video of the week including underwater footage...

OK here are the links. I don't really know what I am doing but this is worth a try...