Dearest
family, friends and loved ones,
Sometimes
it feels like an unfair double-whammy when Easter Sunday is followed by
conference Sunday. There is simply no
time to regain one's composure. And
there is no time to get all your thoughts out in a coherent way before a whole
new flood of thoughts pours in. But
sometimes (OK, most of the time) it serves to provide further light on a
particular topic. I started writing this
last Sunday (Easter), but didn't have time to finish…and now I'm glad about that! Much of what was taught in general conference this
weekend were things I needed to hear.
But little hit me quite as hard as what Elder Holland taught (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XS7Pu31GYZw). It
was, to me, a very clear tender mercy that
he chose this particular story in which to frame his teachings as it has
been a story that has been on my mind for quite a while. I already wish the transcript of his talk was
available because there were so many new insights…so many powerful thoughts…I
will have to be patient.
Regardless,
I figure I'd better get these thoughts out now or I will end up distracted and
never finish.
-Eric
(4/7/2013)
On this Easter Sabbath
I sat down to write a letter to my sister who is serving a mission in
Spain. As I started writing, it quickly
became clear that there were things bouncing around in my mind and heart that I
wanted to share with all of you who have been so important to me and meant so
much in my life. I do not claim to be
very wise and I'm certainly no authority, but these are parts of what I have
learned over my lifetime and every once in a while I think it is appropriate to
get such things down in a written / tangible form and share it with
people. It may be of no interest to
anyone but myself, but at very least I have found that on the occasions that I
feel strongly that I should write and share part of what I know and feel; that
knowledge and feeling is engrained ever deeper into my own heart and it helps
me in my daily struggle to live such principles. I hope no one minds…
There has been a New
Testament account that has been in my mind for the last several months. It is the story of the father who brings his
child to the Savior to be healed and cleansed from the dark spirit which had taken
possession of him. Matthew, Mark and
Luke each give an account of this event (Matthew 17:14-21, Mark 9:14-29, Luke
9:37-43). It is some of what I have
learned as I've thought on this scriptural account that for whatever reason
feels so pertinent right now.
The first
thing that strikes me are the two perspectives from which one can view this
account. There is the perspective of the boy who is healed, certainly.
But there is also the perspective of the father who brings his son to
Christ for healing. Both perspectives, I
think, teach important truths.
First, from the perspective of the father who brings his son to
the Savior for healing. Matthew
records that "…there came to him [Christ] a certain man, kneeling down to
him, and saying, Lord have mercy on my son: for he is lunatick, and sore vexed:
for ofttimes he falleth into the fire and oft into the water" (Matt
17:14-15). Mark's account is thus,
"Master, I have brought unto thee my son, which hath a dumb spirit; and
wheresoever he taketh him, he teareth him: and he foameth, and gnasheth with
his teeth, and pineth away…" (Mark 9:17-18). Luke's account of the father's plea is my
favorite, "And behold a man of the company cried out, saying, Master, I
beseech thee, look upon my son: for he is mine only child. And, lo, a spirit taketh him, and he suddenly
crieth out; and it teareth him that he foameth again, and bruising him hardly
departeth from him." (Luke 9:38-39).
I can only imagine
what this father felt like. This was his
only son. Someone he clearly loved very
much and had worried long and hard over.
Mark gives us the additional piece of information that the son had been
in this condition since his childhood (Mark 9:21). I get the impression that the father had been
caring for his son in this condition for a long time -- trying everything he
could think of but to no avail. Yet, he
persisted in loving and caring for the child and was still willing to bring him
first to the apostles and later to Christ himself. I can imagine the sense of desperate hope
this father had. He cared so deeply
about the well-being of his son that despite the years of struggle and what I'm
sure must have felt like persistent failures to cure the boy, he nonetheless
pressed on toward the one thing that ultimately could save his child.
Mark's account is the
most complete as to what happened once the father petitioned Christ for
help.
"And they brought
him [the boy] unto him [Christ]: and when he [the boy] saw him [Christ],
straightway the spirit tare him [the boy]; and he fell on the ground, and
wallowed foaming." (Mark 9:20)
I'm struck by the
strong language these verses use. Words
like "lunatick" and "teareth, foameth, gnasheth". These denote a violent and all-consuming
fight. And while these words have some
shock value, I think they perfectly convey the sense of the struggle we are
involved in for the souls of mankind.
There is a perfect father of our spirits and his perfect son who want us
to become as they are. Equally true,
there is a being of hate, rage and darkness who wishes for the destruction of
all that is good and light -- particularly the precious souls of God's
children. There is no question as to who
will be the ultimate victor of this struggle.
But that certainly does not diminish the buffeting which we experience
as the father of lies does all he can to bring darkness and misery to each of
us.
I'm reminded of how
Elder Holland put it:
Most
of us do not need any more reminders than we have already had that there is one
who personifies "opposition in all things," that "an angel of
God" fell "from heaven" and in so doing became "miserable
forever." What a chilling destiny. Lehi teaches us that because this is
Lucifer's fate, "he sought also the misery of all mankind" (2 Nephi
2:11, 17–18).
[Jeffrey
R. Holland, "Cast Not Away Therefore Your Confidence", March 2,
1999.]
With this context, and
again, trying to see this story from the perspective of the boy's father, I
can't help but hear the desperation in the father's tone as he pleads with
Christ for help. "…but if thou canst do any thing, have compassion on
us, and help us…" (Mark 9:22).
- How many times have I felt or heard similar emotion as someone pleads for aid for their own life or for the life of someone they care for?
- How familiar is this tone to the missionaries in the field (and hopefully us missionaries here at home) as we try to take the glorious gospel message to so many who have no apparent interest?
- How common is this tone as one walks the corridors of a hospital or nursing home or even the halls of our own homes where sickness, disease, age or other frailties of this mortal condition make life so so difficult right now?
- How readily do we recognize this tone as we see those in our stewardships (be it those we home teach, visit teach, or anything else) struggle and fall away?
- How often is this the tone of my own heart and prayers when the trials or circumstance of life or the burden of my many many mistakes seem to mount up and be a figurative Everest before me?
The next verse seems
to get most of the attention in books and Sunday school classes -- and
well it should -- because here we are taught from the mouth of the Savior
himself how to overcome the trials and circumstances that lead to our desperate
pleas: "Jesus said unto him, If
thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth" (Mark 9:23).
Certainly it is true
that no sickness is too severe, no disease too disabling, no plague too
destructive, no sin too great that it can not be cured by Christ and his great
atonement. I believe that is true.
...So, maybe it's just
me. Maybe I'm the only one who knows
that while that verse is certainly true, in practice I simply fail to bring
down the powers of heaven every time I'm burdened down by weakness, pain, sickness
or sin… Maybe it is just me. But I don't think so…and it is for this
reason that I relate to the father in this story and will be forever grateful
that the Lord saw fit to keep the words of this little exchange intact and
available for reading and study in his holy scripture.
To Christ's teaching
that all things are possible to him that believeth, the father of the child
"cried out, and said with tears, Lord, I
believe; help thou mine unbelief"
(Mark 9:24).
I know I am
imperfect. I know that my faith is often
imperfect. Yet, I need help. Many times I have similarly cried out as this
father did, sometimes with figurative tears and sometimes with literal
tears. "Lord, I believe; help thou
mine unbelief!" And then the
miracle of miracles! (here is where I would like to quote from Elder
Holland's conference talk about leading with what faith we have instead of
first leading with where we are lacking…but alas, that will have to wait for
the conference transcripts to be released)
Christ in his infinite
mercy. Christ, who created all things,
who has all power and who knows all things from the beginning to the end. Christ, who looks beyond my many weaknesses
and shortcomings and chooses to bless me today despite a perfect knowledge of
past and future mistakes. He blesses me
with what I need. (Certainly not always
what I think I need, but what he knows I need from his all-seeing perspective).
Again, quoting from a
previous talk given by Elder Holland,
"…soon,
with that kind of love, we realize our days hold scores of thoroughfares
leading to the Master and that every time we reach out, however feebly, for
Him, we discover He has been anxiously trying to reach us. So we step, we
strive, we seek, and we never yield…
…whatever
other steps you may need to take to resolve [your] concerns, come first to the gospel of Jesus Christ. Trust in
heaven’s promises. In that regard Alma’s testimony is my testimony: “I do
know,” he says, “that whosoever shall put their trust in God shall be supported
in their trials, and their troubles, and their afflictions."
This
reliance upon the merciful nature of God is at the very center of the gospel
Christ taught. I testify that the Savior’s Atonement lifts from us not only the
burden of our sins but also the burden of our disappointments and sorrows, our
heartaches and our despair. From the
beginning, trust in such help was to give us both a reason and a way to
improve, an incentive to lay down our burdens and take up our salvation. There
can and will be plenty of difficulties in life. Nevertheless, the soul that
comes unto Christ, who knows His voice and strives to do as He did, finds a
strength, as the hymn says, “beyond [his] own.”
The Savior reminds us that He has “graven [us] upon the palms of [His]
hands.” Considering the incomprehensible
cost of the Crucifixion and Atonement, I promise you He is not going to turn
His back on us now. When He says to the poor in spirit, “Come unto me,” He
means He knows the way out and He knows the way up. He knows it because He has
walked it. He knows the way because He is
the way...
...If
you are lonely, please know you can find comfort. If you are discouraged,
please know you can find hope. If you are poor in spirit, please know you can
be strengthened. If you feel you are broken, please know you can be
mended."
[Jeffrey R. Holland, "Broken Things to Mend", April
2006]
Now, briefly, from the
perspective of the boy who was healed.
We are not given much
information about what he felt like. We
don't have the same kind of glimpses into his emotions that we do with his
father. Yet, we are told that when the evil
spirit left, only a husk was left who many thought was dead (Mark 9:26). But just as He does with us when He heals the
parts of us that feel so damaged and broken that surely no life is left, Christ
renewed and rejuvenated and brought back to life what seemed dead.
"But
Jesus took him by the hand and lifted him up; and he arose." (Mark 9:27)
Christ has done this
same thing for me. Spiritually, He has
taken my hand and lifted me up time and again.
He fills and brings to life what previously felt so hopelessly gone. He has done it for me in the past and the
great miracle is that he will do it again.
As Elder Craig Cardon (Saturday morning session) reminded us that though
we often feel that "recurring human weakness is beyond the Savior's
willingness to help" the Savior will bless us with the cleansing power of
his Atonement whenever we come to him with a broken heart and contrite spirit.
How grateful I am...
