Of Farewells and Forever

My son considers the final chapters of The Lord of the Rings evidence that Tolkien did not know when and how to end a book.  On the other hand, I have always loved those chapters.  I find the passages deeply moving each time I read them.  In a book rich in art and story they speak to my heart while tying important threads of the work together, completing the grand pattern woven of many tales, valuable to the telling of the greater story.

Part of the attraction for me, as with other great books with which I have enjoyed many a memorable experience, is that I am reluctant to close the cover and say goodbye.  These final chapters of The Lord of the Rings are a prolonged goodbye in a trilogy that is at its core a farewell to a whole world that Tolkien spent his life elaborating and never finished.

Like other great books of art, the work brings into bold relief important themes of reality.  In this life we experience a continuing series of goodbyes.  They fill our hearts with a tenderness, with a longing for lingering. 

For those who consider this life all that there is, goodbyes have a dreadful finality without remedy.  The dear one is gone, the experience has ended, something cherished is lost.  These are finalities that are hard to face.  People avoid them or refuse to recognize them when they cannot be avoided. 

Notice even in our language of parting that our words have a lingering quality about them, as if there were no break, as if there were an enduring connection, another day. We do not seem to have a parting phrase that means, “so it ends,” or, “it is over, done.”  Instead, we use words like, “goodbye,” a contraction of “God be with ye,” as if to connect us by our wishes and thoughts to the one leaving.  Similarly, “farewell” carries with it our interest in the future success of our family member or friend.  And, “until we meet again,” expresses the expectation, however forlorn, of another day in each other’s presence.  Those words, however, cannot mend the finality of it all if there is nothing beyond this life. 

If this life is all that there is, there comes a time when there will be no other day of meeting.  This life is then full of endings that are absolute and unalterable, the greatest of which is our own ending, when with our departure all existence ceases for all that it concerns us.  The awesomeness of that leaves a longing for something more, something to convey meaning that otherwise would not exist.  If when we die all is done, if there is no more, then how does anything matter?  We intuit, “there must be something more.”

Indeed there is.  Rather than finality governing mortality, the defining characteristic of this life is that so much around us is so very temporary.  As it should be.  This life was designed as a temporary existence, a brief exception to the order of the universe, ever changing with the movement of time.  Mortality was not designed to be the end of anything, the only finality being when mortality itself comes to its conclusion and this world is brought back into the realm of the eternities, where real, unending life prevails.

Jesus Christ descended from the eternal worlds into the world of mortality in order to preserve all good things forever.  An angel, a messenger from the eternal worlds, explained it to the ancient prophet Nephi as “the condescension of God,” whereby Jesus, the Savior, experienced all things mortal, and suffered for all things mortal, including death itself, gaining power to preserve all of this world worth preserving and worthy of being brought into the eternities (see 1 Nephi 11:26-33).  With His resurrection, Christ left mortality, creating the avenue for all of us to leave it as well and bring with us all that we had gained from our mortal experience.

Most important of these gains are our relationships with each other.  Most important among these relationships are those of the family, of parent and child and, highest of all, of husband and wife.  All that matters, and these relationships matter most, is preserved through Christ.

Without Christ, as everything perished it would be lost.  People would die and would be eventually forgotten, their works decayed and vanished.  Memories would fade.  Relationships would end.  All would end, constantly, until the end of the earth itself, a pointless and meaningless existence.  Without Christ and His atonement, there would be a dreadful finality to every parting, every last touch, every last glance, every last memory clothed with a hopeless END that nothing could cure.  With Christ, every good thing is saved.

By receiving Christ, since entering into His eternal order through the ordinances that He prescribed and authorized, I have the promise that the farewells have become temporary.  The goodbyes and the partings have an end.  Even death itself is swallowed up as a transient phase of life.  I have no fears of losing any good thing but rather peaceful confidence of inheriting all good things forever.

Of Freedom and Despair

Every man and woman who walks the earth is a union of three natures:  intelligence, spirit, and physical body.  The Prophet Joseph Smith taught that only in this union can there be found a fullness of joy.  Our intelligence is eternal; our spirit an inheritance from God, the Father of spirits; our bodies, mortal vehicles of trial and testing to be placed in the grave and then raised in the resurrection to immortality through the redeeming power of Jesus Christ.

Before we were born and earth’s history began we all lived as spirits in the presence of God, where the whole plan for this earth and its purpose were presented to us.  In a great act of courage, greater than I believe that we can imagine, we each agreed with that plan and volunteered to be born into this world of trial and sorrow, but also of potential achievement and triumph.  The exercise of our free will centered on voluntary obedience to Jesus Christ would make all of the ultimate difference.  As the scriptures  relate, many there were who shied away from the risk and in rebellion sought another way where freedom would be denied us while all of our needs and comforts would be provided for without any exercise of our will or moral effort.

Those who rejected the plan of the Father and rebelled against Him before His face were cast from His presence directly to earth, without birth, without any future or hope.  The plan of moral trial in physical bodies being rejected by them, they could not participate in it.  For those there would be no bodies, no progression, no returning to the presence of God.  Having lost all hope, damned, or stopped in their eternal progression these became devils seeking forever the sorrow of those who chose a better way.  As if to reach for a blistering balm in other’s suffering, they tempt us to rebel against God here on earth and misuse all that a loving Father has provided to His children.

One day near Hallowe’en, more than thirty years ago, I thought to capture in verse something of the attitude of these unembodied spirits towards us, who chose before our birth to follow the plan of the Father as fulfilled by Jesus Christ, His Son.  These devils wish us no good thing, but evil and destruction continually, envying every good thing with which God has blessed us, not the least of which are all of the sensations and experiences that a physical existence in a physical world can provide.  They can see, but they cannot touch.  But they can speak to our spirits, and they each day encourage us to follow them, which is what sin is.

Dance of the Damned

’Round and ’round and sing around,

Swirl the spinning sky with sound.

Twirling, grinning, spinning down

Franticly upon them.

Fill the earth and spread around,

Make the awful beauty frown,

Rip it down, infest the ground,

Though you cannot touch it.

Curse the bodies never known

’Till they’re thrown into a mound.

Bring them blind and blinder still,

Swing the chain ’til you fill

All the world with sorrow;

For if we end tomorrow

They must die tonight.

Twist their sweet virginity.

Drain their new infinity.

Waste their pure divinity.

’Round and ’round, let song abound,

Swirl the human soup around.

Stir them floating, bloating, drowned,

Crowned with our iniquity.

Of Scarcity and Life without Limits

When you have an unlimited supply of something, do you even notice it?  Do the fish in the ocean know that they are in water?  How many thousands of years did mankind enjoy gravity before someone pointed out its existence?  Presumably men have long recognized the existence of air, because we could feel the wind and there was the occasional suffocation that demonstrated what lack of air would do.  Nevertheless, we all go through each day little thinking of the air that constantly surrounds us.

The almost universal aspect of our mortal existence is scarcity, the fact that there are limits to things.  Scarcity is as basic a law of economics as motion is to physics.

When we think of God, the limits are removed.  Is that a human conception, to make God seem to us as otherworldly?  Or is the overcoming of limits a characteristic of eternal life, the limits of mortality serving to help teach humans the value of the eternal things we will soon experience?

Consider the mortal condition and how many problems are tied to scarcity.  Most wars have been fought over scarcity, whether scarcity of land, resources, or power.  How would things be different if there were no limits to food, wealth, or water?  

Such speculation is the stuff of intriguing science fiction writing.  Certainly the galaxies of the universe seem infinite.  Man’s fascination with the night sky over the millennia has in no small part been due to its ability to draw the mind of man out of the mortal world where all seems limited, attracted and uplifted to something that appears to have no end.

Stepping from speculation to revealed knowledge, God has indeed taught us that mortality is temporary, as are its limits.  Throughout man’s existence on earth God has called to His children to overcome their limits, to learn from them and then to exceed them.  God has taught us how to do so, endowed us with the divine ability to rise above obstacles, and sent His Son, Jesus Christ, to make triumph over limits possible.  That triumph was symbolized by but not limited to His victory over death, rising from the tomb to immortality.  That gift of immortality has been promised to all.  Other victories over life’s limitations are offered to all, but the offer must be received.

While triumph over the limits of physical death is guaranteed to all, transcendence over many other limits is optional.  The intentional rejection of the means offered to transcend human limitations is what makes sin what it is, intentional action that limits human potential.  Sins such as dishonesty, covetousness, cowardice, violation of the laws of chastity, and all other evils make us smaller, stop our growth, undermine our progress, close doors to the advancement of our character.

Virtue, on the other hand, is to embrace all that ennobles, that builds character, that strengthens courage, that develops the divine capacity to love.  Honesty generates trust, generosity increases our fellowship, chastity reinforces the bonds between husbands and wives and sets the foundation for eternal families, and each act of kindness leads to greater kindness, revealing the divinity that is at the center of our humanity.  In every case we become more, without end to the process.

Prophets throughout the ages have taught that damnation means to be limited where otherwise there would be progress and increase.  The modern prophet, Joseph Fielding Smith, described damnation as “being barred, or denied privileges of progression. . . or stopped” (Joseph Fielding Smith, Doctrines of Salvation, Vol. II, p.227).

Does not death impose an end on all of this progress?  Indeed it would, if mortality were the last word.  Without Christ and His atoning sacrifice it would be.  Damnation would be the lot of all, progress forever foreshortened, all efforts ultimately meaningless, the grave the final limit.  All good would be temporary, swallowed in the permanence of death.

Christ in life, death, and resurrection, was the constant reminder that mortality’s limits could be overcome.  He walked upon the water and calmed the sea.  He fed the thousands with a few fishes and loaves of bread.  He restored sight to the blind and healed all manner of diseases.  Christ summoned the dead back from the world of spirits.  He suffered death Himself, and yet in three days walked again among men, never more to die or to experience any other of mortality’s limitations.  Christ brought examples of eternity to us in this world to remind us what could and would be.

The ancient American prophet, Abinadi, joined with the prophets of all ages to proclaim,

And now if Christ had not come into the world . . . there could have been no redemption.  And if Christ had not risen from the dead, or have broken the bands of death that the grave should have no victory, and that death should have no sting, there could have been no resurrection.  But there is a resurrection, therefore the grave hath no victory, and the sting of death is swallowed up in Christ.  (Mosiah 16:6-8)

To those who fully embrace the Savior’s offered redemption this promise:

Wherefore, all things are theirs, whether life or death, or things present, or things to come, all are theirs, and they are Christ’s, and Christ is God’s.  And they shall overcome all things.  (Doctrine and Covenants 76:59, 60)

The destiny that God, our Father, has planned for all of His children who will accept it, is life without limits, provided that we learn how to live in such a world.  For that we swim today in an ocean of limits, with instructions from the eternal worlds on how to thrive and overcome.