“It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society.” -Jiddu Krishnamurti
In a way, we have become like the children of Helm in the story of the Pied Piper, drawn not by profundities but by curiosities, and there are so many of them!
Today’s diversions are particularly insidious because they are so vast and so easily accessible. We live in a modern media mishmash of instant curiosities and fast pleasures offering quick release through amusement—the pleasures of the world to snuff out our burdens. We are trapped, as it were, in a circus world, alighting from novelty to novelty, oddity to oddity, and craze to craze, in a sort of universal attention deficit disorder. Seeking stimulation more than serenity, we are infatuated by the latest thing, the newest wrinkle, and the most recent rage—all in an ever-increasing dependence on the very real chemical rush that comes with each surprise. Indeed, we go from hit to hit, ever-stimulated but never satisfied.
British social critic T.S. Eliot eloquently bemoaned (and in 1934),
“O world of spring and autumn, birth and dying! The endless cycle of idea and action, Endless invention, endless experiment, Brings knowledge of motion, but not of stillness; Knowledge of speech, but not of silence; Knowledge of words, and ignorance of the Word. All our knowledge brings us nearer to death, But nearness to death no nearer to God. Where is the Life we have lost in living? Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge? Where is the knowledge we have lost in information? The cycles of heaven in twenty centuries Brings us farther from God and nearer to the Dust.” (Choruses From The Rock)
In short order, our craving for diversions escalates into the fear of missing out on them (“FOMO”), and those so afflicted experience the withdrawal symptoms of an addict, with the same hyper-focus on getting another hit. Like the intoxicating sound of AOL’s “You’ve Got Mail!” in the 1998 Meg Ryan/Tom Hanks movie of the same name, the dopamine rush of getting an electronic message begins innocently enough; but what was once a rare delight has now become a cheap drug—arguably the 21st century’s most ubiquitous drug of choice.
It is as President John Taylor once remarked, speaking of the distractions of his own day,
“We frequently think a little more of a nice span of horses, or a nice wagon, or a favorite cow, and such things, than we do of God’s work, as our boys sometimes get attached to a few marbles, thinking that they are everything, and they do not like to leave their marbles to obey father or mother; and God finds us about the same. We get a few dollars, or a farm, and a little stock, and a few other things; and we cannot afford to neglect these; we cannot afford to take time to pray, nor to listen to the voice of Father, we are so busy playing marbles. . .Our feelings and affections get placed on wrong things. We are here to build up Zion, and to establish the kingdom of God. The kingdom of what? The kingdom of God.” (JD 22:219-220)
Indeed, we are like children playing marbles, and our diversions consume us. We binge on shows, addictively access our mobile devices, and are perennially plugged up with ear buds. We consume mindless minutia, share the absurd, laud the seedy, and hail the horrific, all in a constant social rubbernecking—but far more dangerous than the highway variety. We are trapped in a game of titillation, as Timothy taught, for latter-day “lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God” (2 Tim. 3:4).
Tragically, we continue in this frenzied course because it is woven into the fabric of our society. Culturally illiterate, we end up culture-automotons, never suspecting that there might be another way. We continue seeking sufficiency, but what comes instead is anxiety, and a desire for more. The curiosities must get more fantastic and unnatural, bizarre and deviant, even prurient and sadistic.
“It shall even be as when an hungry man dreameth, and, behold, he eateth; but he awaketh, and his soul is empty: or as when a thirsty man dreameth, and, behold, he drinketh; but he awaketh, and, behold, he is faint, and his soul hath appetite” (Isa. 29:8).
We’ve been captured by a culture of curiosities, a modern-day Circus Maximus; but in this case, we are both the captivated spectators and the captives consumed by the lions.
The Tower or The Tree
Ancient and modern prophets have warned against distraction. Note these recent remarks from three latter-day apostles:
Elder Richard G. Scott, “Satan has a powerful tool to use against good people. It is distraction. He would have good people fill life with ‘good things’ so there is no room for the essential ones. Have you unconsciously been caught in that trap?” (First Things First, July 2001).
Elder David A. Bednar, “Sadly, some young men and young women in the Church today [engage in] digital distractions, diversions, and detours that have no lasting value.” (Things As They Really Are, May 2009).
President Dieter F. Uchtdorf, “We cannot and we must not allow ourselves to get distracted from our sacred duty. We cannot and we must not lose focus on the things that matter most…Our Heavenly Father seeks those who refuse to allow the trivial to hinder them in their pursuit of the eternal. He seeks those who will not allow the attraction of ease or the traps of the adversary to distract them from the work He has given them to perform.” (We Are Doing A Great Work And Cannot Come Down, April 2009).
The Lord himself commands us to “cast away your idle thoughts” (D&C 88:69), “cease from all your light speeches…from all your lustful desires…and light-mindedness” (D&C 88:121), and to “not idle away thy time” (D&C 60:13).
Furthermore, the canon is replete with the consequences of distraction, of sad souls who were swept away by the raptures of the moment in exchange for the peace of years. Lot’s wife was distracted by the pleasures of Sodom, Elisha by daunting armies, David by luxury and then lust, the Rich Young Ruler by wealth, the Pharisees and Saducees by power and position, Martha by much serving, Peter by wind and wave, Amulek by ease, Corianton by the harlot Isabel, the Nephites generally by riches and prosperity, and so many others by so many other distractions.
The children of Israel, after 40 years of being tutored by the Lord, could not resist the curiosities of Canaanite culture. They’d been commanded to shun and even obliterate Canaan’s pervasive idolatry, but instead they curiously asked, “How did these nations serve their Gods?” And then, drawn to their provocative practices, responded, “even so will I do likewise” (Deut. 12:30). How like Israel we sometimes are—wanting to be faithful to God but simultaneously pining to be like the world and to partake of its pleasures!
Lehi’s vision of the Tree of Life is likely the most powerful scriptural allegory for the incredible draw of worldly distraction. Pitting the extraordinary great and spacious building against the ordinary Tree of Life is an absolutely brilliant move. The challenge depicted seems absurd—why would anyone ever choose the very plain (albeit bright) fruit of the Tree when the alternative is the spectacular cruiseship-like Great and Spacious? Undoubtedly the building held mesmerizing distractions: seductive sights, captivating sounds, and even enticing smells wafting abroad—all clamoring for the attention of those on the path. Given such impossible odds, is it any surprise that many so easily lose sight of the humdrum Tree, let go of the insipid iron rod, ditch the dull strait and narrow, and wander in strange paths?
In a way, of course, I’m being facetious; but then again, this is very serious. How can the Tree ever compete? What might we be missing?
[Continued in Racked & Distracted 3 – Brain Mush]
Holy Envy 