Adultery and blind obedience

If you want to triple the number of hits a story gets on the Internet, publish a piece about adultery.

And this column is about adultery — eventually.

But first, a preamble.

The term "culture of obedience" seeped into regional politics over this past year. Locally, it usually carries an unspoken adjective with it — "blind obedience." And politicians use it to refer to members of the LDS Church. They use the term when they want to complain but don't want to take heat for a frontal assault against Mormons.

And they use the term selectively.

Does anyone refer to the Amish or Orthodox Jews as "cultures of obedience"? How about the U.S. Air Force? Or the Marines? The Marine Corps slogan is Semper Fi, meaning "Always Faithful."

Soldiers would be a culture of obedience.

Outsiders often see soldiers as people who "follow orders," but the soldiers see themselves as choosing to sacrifice personal wishes for larger concerns. Soldiers are a culture of fidelity, of faithfulness. They see dignity in pursuing a common ideal.

The word "obedience" sounds like people playing follow the leader.

"Fidelity" sounds like someone sacrificing petty personal desires for bigger things.

Soldiers look beyond themselves.

Ditto for Mormons.

Mormons, too, are a "culture of faithfulness."

They are, spiritually, Semper Fi.

And that's where adultery comes into things.

In modern society, adultery is all about illicit sex and reckless behavior. But in ancient days it was almost always about faithfulness. It was about betrayal.

When Jesus calls the people of his day "a wicked and adulterous generation," he wasn't just decrying sexual promiscuity. He was telling them they were "unfaithful" — unfaithful to their creator, to their ancestors, to their beliefs and their better selves.

The Ten Commandments can be read as rules for remaining Semper Fi: Be faithful to your God, to your parents, to your spouse, to your friends, your heritage and your legacy.