Of Helping God and Helping Fathers

Photo by Mike Kenneally on Unsplash

 

When I was twelve my parents moved us to an old farm house.  It was basically solid, but it was old.  The house had not been occupied for a decade or more, other than by varieties of wildlife.  It needed a lot of work.  My father moved in about a month before us to begin the restoration, bringing it close to livable when we all moved in.  Still, it was a bit like camping out inside the house for the first several weeks.

Being a fixer-upper brought the house within my parents’ price range, though the $90 a month mortgage was still a strain.  My father did nearly all the restoration work himself. 

The roofers, called in to repair numerous leaks, were particularly interested in the slate shingles.  Once they had taken those off, we never saw them again—roofers or shingles.  Our wonderful neighbors helped us with an emergency roof replacement when the hired roofers left us high but far from dry in the midst of a thunderstorm. 

My father, who had been a public works inspector where we lived before, knew a great deal about ceilings, walls, carpentry, electrical wiring, plumbing, and other very practical things.  He tried to pass some of that knowledge on to me. 

I remember helping my father replace pipes.  He did not need the help.  I am quite sure that I slowed him down.  He had me participate in the work so that I could learn something about plumbing, and maybe even something about working.  I remember many details about plumbing, carpentry, and electricity that my father taught me.  I learned what was between walls.  He taught me many of the little details that you need to observe to make something work right and last long. 

My father did not teach me everything he knows about keeping a house in good repair, but he taught me everything that I know.  He did it by showing me.  He taught me about tools by putting them in my hands.  I experienced what the right tools did and how using them properly made the work easier, made impossible work suddenly doable.

My father often explained the principles behind what we did.  When he helped me move into my new house he noticed that we had a two-car garage, but only one car.  He told me that was a problem.  Why? I asked.  “Because you will fill one side up with stuff.”  He was right.  When we could finally afford a second car, we had a lot of work to do to clear the garage to make room for it.

Our Heavenly Father gave us earthly fathers to teach us much about Him.  As do the fathers of our flesh, the Father of our spirits allows us to learn by helping Him with His work.  He revealed that His work is “to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man.” (Moses 1:39)  The Father often does this important work by getting us to help Him.  He calls upon us to help our brothers and sisters, His children. 

The Lord does not need our help.  “I am able to do mine own work” (2 Nephi 27:21), He said.  Our Father often does that work by giving us the tools to help one another, teaching us how to use the tools, and then working with us.  He sent His Son, Jesus Christ, to show us how by example (and to fix our mistakes).  By doing that helping work we become more Christlike.  We learn to love each other as the Father and His Son love us.  We learn to become like Them.  We also learn to teach and love our children, as the Father loves us.

Of Careers and Stepping Away

Photo by K. Mitch Hodge on Unsplash

Asked to give up successful careers, they all did.  Decades ago one was a world renowned heart surgeon.  Today he is president of a worldwide church, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, with some 16 million members.  His name is Russell M. Nelson.  At 96 years he is still vigorous, going about the world doing good.

One of his colleagues had been a Justice on the Utah Supreme Court.  Dallin H. Oaks stepped away from that post and his legal career when asked to assist in leadership of the Church, which he has now done for 36 years.

His colleague, Henry B. Eyring, has a Ph.D. and MBA in business administration from Harvard.  He left the faculty of the Stanford Graduate School of Business to serve for six years as a college president.  Since 1980, he has been involved in spiritual education at all levels of the Church, with the exception of 7 years to help manage the Church's physical operations.

The youngest of these three men is 87.  All three gave up their successful careers to devote their full attention to religious matters, for decades.  None expected to be Church leaders.  They never applied for those responsibilities.  None of them retired from their jobs.  They were asked, and they stepped away in the prime of their professions.  They had faith that the Lord had something even more important for them to do.  They were invited to serve in what they would in an instant tell you was a more pressing calling.

These three are members of what is known as the First Presidency, the highest council of the Church.  They were called to their current positions after first serving as members of the Council of the Twelve Apostles.

Their colleagues on the Council of the Twelve have similar stories.  None planned to be leaders in the Church.  Some had careers in the automotive, real estate, investment, health care, airline, and banking industries.  Others came from occupations in education, on college faculties and as college presidents.  Another was president of a chemical company, another in manufacturing, yet another a heart surgeon specializing in cardiac transplants.  One of these had a career in international relations, in and out of government.  And one was an accountant and auditor—nothing meant by mentioning this profession last.

Departure from a vibrant career is not expected of everyone.  For all but a few, our chances may be no more than doing the marvelous good each day that our jobs may offer, as well as helping our families, neighbors, and communities.  The daily potential is endless, and the joys of job and service taken together can be great.  

Still, there is inspiration in the dedication of those who were asked to give up their careers and did so.  They are giving their all—retaining the preeminence of service to family, which may not be surrendered—to the opportunities to bless others whom the Lord puts before them.  Wonderfully, the Lord also, each day, puts before us opportunities to bless.  Through our work and our service we strengthen our communities, as the Lord would have it.

Of Aliens in Washington and the National Symbols

Driving into Washington, D.C., each day, it is easy to become blindly accustomed to the rich symbols that delight and inspire the more infrequent visitor.  Occasionally, such as when the choke of traffic allows reflective moments, or the morning light or evening illuminations stimulate more meditative inspiration, even the hardened local can again be moved by the monuments of the nation’s capital.

One such recent morning, as reflections led to marveling at our wonderful and unique nation, and musing followed musing, I was struck by how out of line the Obama Administration is with all of these symbols and what they mean.  The differences between the symbols and the resident reality are not minor.  It is as if some group of aliens had taken dominion of the Capital of Freedom.

Consider an example a mere few days old.  In Barack Obama’s most recent weekly radio address he made the following statement.  Read it carefully.

It’s time to build a nation that lives up to the ideals that so many Americans have fought for—a nation where they can realize the dream they sacrificed to protect.

The address was entitled, “Honoring Our Nation’s Service Members and Military Families”.  Its main thrust was to provide that honor through more federal spending on “roads and runways and ports.”  Apparently, President Obama’s view is that this is what our soldiers, sailors, and airmen have been fighting for, or as he said, “That’s how we can honor our troops.”

Back to the highlighted quote, however, the rhetorical apogee of the speech.  Aside from the President’s revelation that he had tarmac in mind when he envisioned the dreams of our veterans, there is the declaration that, “It’s time to build a nation”.  Why would the President of the United States of America declare that now is the time to build our nation?  What does he consider to have happened in 1776 when the Declaration of Independence was boldly adopted?  Was it not then that the building of the nation began?  What does he believe that Washington, Adams, Jefferson, Madison, and the many other Founders did?  What does he consider was the purpose of the Constitution if not “to form a more perfect Union”?  Does he believe that America has been waiting for Barack Obama to begin the building? 

It is hard to escape the impression that the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution are in meaningful ways alien to the current President, that he does not recognize what they wrought.  For President Obama, now is the time to build the nation.  Apparently, he does not like what he sees. What kind of alternative nation does Barack Obama want to build? 

I suspect that what my father fought for in two wars was akin to the ideals embodied in our national symbols, not more government construction projects.  I doubt that in France, Germany, or Korea he ever spent a single moment imagining that he was risking his life for new highways.

Which brings me back to my musings on the highways of the federal city.  I see the Lincoln Memorial, in which the words from President Lincoln’s last address to the nation are inscribed, proclaiming malice toward none while seeking to unite a nation and bind up the nation’s wounds.  I contrast that with the current President and his long list of those he labels enemies:  big oil, big banks, big insurance, big medicine, business in general, the world’s financial center in New York, people of strong religious conviction, among others.  Instead of unifying the nation, it is impossible to avoid his constant efforts to divide the nation into racial, ethnic, and interest groups, as if the citizens of the United States are black, or white, or rich, or poor, first and Americans second.

From almost anywhere in Washington you can see the Washington Monument, soaring over 500 feet high.  The monument is simple and unadorned, symbolizing the man declared by mourners at his death as, “First in war, first in peace and first in the hearts of his countrymen,” who set the pattern for freedom protected by limited government, where government office was a service to the nation and its people.  In little more than the last three years we have instead experienced an unprecedented accretion of power to the government in Washington.  Government workers make decisions reaching into nearly every aspect of people’s lives, even as the President declares that the achievements of individuals are as much or more the work of government than the fruits of their own efforts.  Rejecting the example of George Washington, who turned aside a crown and walked away from generalship and public office into quiet retirement, President Obama fosters an imperial cult of personality, where the light of every achievement, real or imaginary, is focused on himself.

Ringing the dome of the Jefferson Memorial are Jefferson’s words, “I have sworn upon the altar of god eternal hostility against every form of tyranny over the mind of man.”  Today we have a presidency filthy with politically correct speech, that pounces on any words of opponents that can be made to appear at odds with the official doctrines of the administration.  Instead of free speech and open debate, the President declares that for his priorities, such as global warming, health care, financial legislation, “the debate is over.”

In H.G. Wells’ classic science fiction story, The War of the Worlds, the invading aliens are at last destroyed by simple bacteria in the air and water that men breathe and drink, defeated, “after all man's devices had failed, by the humblest things that God, in his wisdom, has put upon this earth.”  Was our Declaration of Independence correct that God has placed similar protections in our society, the heavenly endowed unalienable rights of “Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness”?  Will these simple, fundamental rights will out and preserve our nation from our present alien occupation?  They may, if we employ them as the Founders did.

Of Good King Wenceslas and Government Charity

Just past Easter and far enough away from Christmas I suppose that it is safe enough for me to write a few words in criticism of what I think is my least favorite Christmas carol.  I love Christmas carols and have many favorites.  There is one, however, that I particularly do not like:  “Good King Wenceslas.”  As I understand the case, the carol was written in Britain in the 1800s based upon legend and traditions dating from many centuries earlier.

Upon reflection I have to admit that I very much like the tune and often find myself whistling it, despite the fact that I very much dislike the words.  Actually, the words can be kind of fun, too, but I find their message repulsive.

Here are the words and message, or at least the first three stanzas, where most of the harm lies.  First stanza:

Good King Wenceslas looked out

On the feast of Stephen

When the snow lay round about

Deep and crisp and even.

Brightly shone the moon that night

Though the frost was cruel

When a poor man came in sight

Gathering winter fuel.

All very pretty.  A wealthy man of power enjoying a holiday associated with charity for the poor.  It is night time, with the moon shining on a smooth landscape of deep, white snow.  It is cruelly cold, but of course the king is surely nice and warm, enjoying the beautifully charming view.  The cherry on this lovely winter dessert is provided by the quaint and appropriate arrival of a poor man trudging through the snow. 

It is almost impossible to have a Christmas story nowadays without someone in poverty to bless the tale.  Poverty is so worshiped at Christmas time that it makes one wonder whether the poor in the stories are poor enough, as if to make one glad for the ready supply of poor people and even tremble at the thought of the supply ever becoming short.  No problem with that in Europe, especially old Europe.  And of course traditional Asian societies and all but few modern African ones rest upon having large and ready supplies of poor people, with the modern doctrines of communism and socialism superimposed upon them to institutionalize poverty and ensure that its alleviation can be an eternal goal ever to be invoked but never to be achieved.  One of the world’s criticisms of America is that our “poor” live so much better than even the well to do of much of the rest of the world, but the current American presidential team has been working mightily on addressing that criticism.

It is very important that you take note of what the poor man of poverty is doing on this bitter cold and crisp evening, the very night after Christmas.  He is gathering firewood, something that it would be more than unpleasant to be without in such a cruel frost.

With the second verse the plot deepens:

“Hither page and stand by me

If thou know’st it, telling

Yonder peasant, who is he?

Where and what his dwelling?”

“Sire, he lives a good league hence

Underneath the mountain

Right against the forest fence

By Saint Agnes’ fountain.”

This tells us much, far more I think than many who sing this song perceive.  In this oppressive cold darkness with only the cold moon for light the peasant had wandered a good three miles from his home in search of something to burn to keep himself warm, three miles (the English league is 5280 yards).  Moreover, it could be expected that the home three miles away was colder still, being in close proximity to "the mountain."  Perhaps these points are not missed by the casual caroler, but does the caroler also note that the peasant lives next to a forest?  As we look at the next stanza, keep in mind this question:  why would someone who lives next to a forest walk a good three miles in search of something to burn?

“Bring me bread and bring me wine,

Bring me pine logs hither.

Thou and will I see him dine

When we bear him thither.”

Page and monarch forth they went,

Forth they went together

Through the rude wind’s wild lament

And the bitter weather.

It is at this point in the song where it is intended that we who sing or hear the words are to begin to be warmed.  Touched by the predicament of the poor peasant, wandering a good three miles the day after Christmas to gather firewood just to stay warm on that bitterly frigid night (we are informed in this verse that the cold was made intense by a rude wind), the good king not only sees to the provision of firewood for the poor man but deigns to deliver the wood himself, along with bread and wine.  This is the core of the story of the song, confirmed in the remaining verses by the miracle of the page, nearly freezing to death on the king’s errand of mercy, finding warmth by stepping in the very snowy footsteps of his master.

Before I continue with my criticism, I will add that I entirely agree with the last lines of the carol, the moral of the story:

Therefore, Christian men, be sure

Wealth or rank possessing

Ye who now will bless the poor

Shall yourselves find blessing.

This is all very true, demonstrated repeatedly throughout history.  I would add that any person, of any rank or means, who gives of himself to bless the poor will find blessings in return, occasionally blessings on earth and always blessings where moth and rust do not corrupt.

And giving of oneself is the point.  Was Good King Wenceslas really giving of himself?  This was the king, giving of the royal resources.  I seriously doubt that the king baked the bread, or pressed the wine, or chopped the wood that he was providing.  They very likely came from some other poor peasants (in some degree even from this peasant himself) in the form of a tax by one name or another.  It is all very nice to be generous with other people’s sweat.  All very Old World, nice and feudal.  That was the way of things in those days. 

Moreover, and in answer to the question that I posed earlier, the poor peasant had trudged three miles, looking for something in the deep snow that he might be able to burn, when he lived right next to the forest, because the forests all belonged to the royalty.  It was a serious crime for any peasant—regardless of how close he lived—to “poach” either firewood or game out of that forest.

That is to say, that Good King Wenceslas, overcome by a moment of pity, was acting to relieve for a moment a misery that he himself participated in causing and inflicting.  Given the age, I am sure that the poor man was appropriately grateful as the king and his page watched the poor man eat in his hovel, and all were appropriately warmed in heart and mind as the king returned to his castle for the rest of the winter.  The perpetuation of the legend has assured that the king received a bountiful blessing of good public relations for his gesture.

This all may be well and good for the land of the nineteenth century British monarchy, but any American should be ashamed to sing this song, other than in mockery.  Our Founders fought a revolution and gave their best efforts, and some gave their lives, to throw off monarchy and end royal forests and feudal domains.  They recoiled at the practices of corrupt monarchies who tried to ward off grievances against royal prerogatives and taxes by tossing the occasional crumbs of “charity” to the masses.  They saw through the game of taxing the people so that the governors could provide a few well advertised benefits to the many while quietly heaping largesse on their cronies.

None of that would be tolerated today in America.  Or would it?  How about a nation hungry for energy while plentiful supplies of energy lie locked up under government-owned lands, and all that the government offers are windmills and algae farms?  How about trillion dollar “stimulus” appropriations bills that build a bridge or a road here and there, while administration cronies walk off with billions of dollars in grants and loans not expected to be paid back?  How about major taxes on job providers to pay for some more government handouts while driving the job providers to cut back or close up shop?  The charity of modern governments is no more virtuous than it was at the hands of the old benevolent despots.

At least in the land of We the People our leaders do not inherit their jobs and can be thrown out for misrule.  Yet, the trick worked in Europe for Good King Wenceslas.  Will America’s own Good King Wenceslas be celebrating another Feast of Stephen in the White House, or will he be packing on Boxing Day?

Of Service to God and Service to Ourselves

In a particularly entertaining passage in The Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolkien, Gandalf the wizard employs a clever and amusing tactic to introduce his destitute group of fifteen wanderers to the powerful and reclusive character, Beorn. As the story goes, each wanderer upon introduction and according to his custom offers to Beorn his name along with a pledge of being “at your service!” The rather impatient but also self-sufficient Beorn replies, “I don’t need your service, . . . but I expect you need mine.”

That is not unlike our relationship to God, even as we offer Him our service. God the Omnipotent has no need of our service, but we are very much in need of His, all day and every day. A difference, and important difference, is that while God does not need our service, we need to give it.

We need to give our service because of what giving does to us, especially what it does to us inside. It is the inner man that concerns God and is the reason for which He created this brief mortality that we sometimes narrowly call “life.” Our mortal life was designed by God as an opportunity to shape and develop our character for our permanent life of immortality, after our death and later resurrection. That concern for the inner man was behind God’s teaching to Samuel the prophet when Samuel was looking for a new king to govern Israel.

But the LORD said unto Samuel, Look not on his countenance, or on the height of his stature; because I have refused him: for the LORD seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the LORD looketh on the heart. (1 Samuel 16:7)

Our inner life changes for the better each time we do good, with each worthy service that we provide. It constricts with each mean and sinful act. In the words of the modern prophet, Spencer W. Kimball,

the more we serve our fellowmen in appropriate ways, the more substance there is to our souls. We become more significant individuals as we serve others. We become more substantive as we serve others—indeed, it is easier to “find” ourselves because there is so much more of us to find!
(Spencer W. Kimball, “The Abundant Life”, Ensign, July 1978, p.3)

A couple of simple examples may illustrate how actions can change us. In these examples we consider apparently identical actions that differ only in terms of the intent behind the actions. That intent, expressed through action, rebounds on the soul and changes the character of the soul further, for better or worse.

Consider, for example, a man who accidentally walks off with someone else’s umbrella. Compare that with a case where another man knowingly takes someone else’s umbrella. In both cases the actions in all material details are the same. The umbrella leaves in the hands of someone who has no right to it. There is a profound difference, however, in what each case does to the character—the internal moral condition—of the actor. The first may cause some embarrassment but is scarcely a cause of shame. The second has at a minimum increased the willingness of the man to cause yet another injury to the property or person of someone else and has shrunken him in spirit and in love for his fellowman.

As a second example, let us look at a seemingly good act, the giving of a gift. With a gift freely offered, with thoughtfulness and generosity, the giver grows in characteristics of kindness and liberality. The same gift, however, given grudgingly, with hopes of currying favor or with a sense of obligation rather than goodwill, with residual covetousness for the possession surrendered, will stir resentment, envy, and perhaps even elements of hatred in the heart of the giver (see Moroni 7:6-11). Again, an action apparently the same in all material aspects becomes a blessing or a cursing to the actor depending on whether it was offered with a blessing or cursing in the actor’s heart.

All of that is to say, that we need to provide our service to find out who we are or, better said, in order to become who we will become. Genuine service, given from love for our fellowman and an even deeper love for our God, born out of our heartfelt esteem for the worth and value of God and for the potential of His children, unfailingly builds our own value, our own worth, and our own potential as the children of God. God our Father does not need our service, but we need to give it as an essential way of becoming like Him, the sons becoming like the Father by imitating His example.

Of Commandments and Happiness

We sing a hymn, “How Gentle God’s Commands,” the first two lines of which proclaim—

How gentle God’s commands!
How kind his precepts are!

I suppose that the Ruler and Creator of the world, who offers us all that He has, eternal life (“the greatest of all the gifts of God”—Doctrine and Covenants 14:7), could require from us anything in return. What He asks of us is that we be happy, and He shows us how. Every commandment of God (here I speak of God’s commandments, not the commandments of men) is calculated to promote our happiness and guide us away from unhappiness.

Let us examine a few to illustrate. The Lord commands that intimate sexual relations be reserved for a man and a woman within the bonds of matrimony. This commandment, much disparaged by popular voices, would if followed virtually end all forms of venereal diseases, including the modern scourge of Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome (AIDS) and the heartbreaking and life-ending consequences they bring. Abortion would also nearly end, since the vast majority of abortions are performed on unwed women. The social and economic trauma of children being born into one-parent households would similarly be dramatically reduced. And the deadened emotional wasteland caused by promiscuity would be avoided.

The Lord has commanded that we observe the Sabbath Day, to keep it holy. The Sabbath is a day to gather with fellow believers in the worship of God. It is also a day to refrain from usual activities we would call work and focus instead on rest and acts of service to one another. Perhaps less observed today than ever before by the world in general, this commandment is particularly suitable for modern times. Increasingly, people are cut off from one another, associations reduced to momentary casual encounters. The Sabbath brings people together in pleasant association and sharing, with a focus on what uplifts one another. Furthermore, it offers a pause from the daily routine, giving opportunity for mental rest and perspective, a time for pondering, meditation, and preparation for renewed and more thoughtful endeavor.

A third example I would choose is the law of the tithe. The Lord commands the saints to donate one-tenth of their income. At first view, this commandment might seem all loss. Is not a person better off with 100% of his income than he is with 90% of his income? The answer to that is undeniably yes, particularly if that income were forcefully taken away, as in excess taxes. The tithe, however, is purely voluntary. The Lord requires it, but He does not take it. You still have all of your income, for it is by your free choice that you make a donation or not, much as with any other way in which you would choose to dispose of your income. That is important, for by making a freewill donation, you give of yourself and receive all of the moral benefit that comes from such a voluntary gift. That gift is not diminished if you, like I, have noticed that you have always received more back in services and blessings than you have ever given. After all, you could choose to be a free rider and never contribute a dime. Moreover, the law of the tithe is eminently fair. All are asked to donate 10%, rich or poor. Those who earn more contribute more, those who earn less donate less, but all are subject to the same rate. Through the tithe—together with the voluntary labor of the membership of a church without a paid, professional clergy—all have full opportunity and satisfaction of participation in the most important work and activity in the world today: sustaining the work of the kingdom of Jesus Christ.

These are but three examples of many. I chose them, because they are among the commandments that some today might consider onerous. These, like all of God’s commands are rich and generous in their benefits. I have merely touched the surface of the benefits from observance of each of these commandments. God loves us, and His commandments are a bounteous example of that love.