::Sunlight::

Despite having not written for a while, I have had a lot on my mind.  The next few posts may be particularly emotionally poignant for me.  I hope that they make your days better in the coming weeks.

(Narangerel, her family, and friends: July 2009)

Meet Narangerel: the woman in the middle of this picture with the large cheeks, light hair, and fashionable reading glasses. She is over 60 years old, has 5 children, and lives in a little town called Baganuur in Outer Mongolia. For over 30 years, she lived in the Gobi Desert in the Altai province in a petite, round, felt-covered tent.  She has never enjoyed modern luxuries like running water or a computer.  Currently, she has no phone and no job, and takes care of two grandchildren at home and a third that comes by often.  Her condition is common, but she does it all with extreme limits on the use of her legs. She suffers from a severe osteoarthritic condition that was exacerbated by years of bow legged walking, carrying heavy water canisters, and poor diet. Her latest injuries left her bed ridden and in constant pain for months. Despite all the physical suffering she was enduring, her only complaint was, “I can't go see my students anymore. I miss them.”

Narangerel taught young men and women from the New Testament that year. She received no compensation for her work- not a tugrik. Every weekday at 3:00, Narangerel would stumble and limp, leaning on her 9 year old granddaughter, along the 3 km stretch of dusty road to her church building, which sits atop a bakery near the hospital. Each time she passed the hospital, she was reminded that doctors had no cure for her condition, and that, even if they did, she would not be able to afford the treatment.

So she learned to cope. She taught herself to walk in ways that did not force her to shake when she stepped, and eventually was forced to use a crutch to walk- the single most expensive piece of equipment she owns.

The first time I met Narangerel, she was trying to adjust her gargantuan glasses on her abnormally large cheekbones, which made her eyes look like painted baseballs. Her hair was newly dyed a deep burgundy, which created an interesting match with her perpetually red cheeks that had been “burned” by the cold desert winds in the winter. The sight of her smile and oddly rotund eyes made me laugh. As soon as I smiled, she introduced herself and welcomed me with a kiss on the cheek. Over the coming years, I learned more about her.

Through all of her struggles, Narangerel maintains two things: a spirit of gratitude, and a smile. The reality of her conditions does not detract from her positivity. In fact, it magnifies it. She spends her time alone during the day as her two grand kids run out to play. She dives into the teachings of Jesus Christ- a rarity in Tibetan Buddhist Mongolia. Her current project: memorize a psalm every day until she can quote them all. “Reading psalms,” she says, “helps me release all my inner frustrations in a way that leaves me with a resolve to do all God wants me to do. I find every day fuller when, in empty moments, I can call upon a word or phrase that reminds me all that life has to offer me right now, and what is sure to come later. Sometimes I feel like crying because of my problems, but I do not let myself. What would crying do for me? What do I have to complain about? Sure, my leg hurts- sometimes so much that I want to pass out- but will focusing on it make it any less painful? No. Jesus knows that I'm going through because he felt every pain from every step I've ever taken.” She refuses to let her circumstances define her happiness. Instead, she spreads the joy of living to those around her.

As she and I spoke after an absence of almost a year, her eyes welled up in tears, and she looked at me and said, “I've missed you, son. I've missed all my children in America.” You see, Narangerel knows dozens of young men and women from the United States, because they were the first to teach her about Jesus Christ as missionaries. They have been there for her and her family, teaching them, guiding them, serving them, and helping them through long days of boredom and loneliness. The love she has for her children, both her own and those she has emotionally adopted, goes beyond the ability for this young heart to describe. For that love, I am profoundly grateful.

Narangerel put on her gloggles (her glasses that are somehow goggles) and sifted through her notebook to show me a list of the goals she had set for the rest of the year. Among them, she wanted to learn how to be a better teacher, and wanted to try her hand at learning english. Remember, this is a woman in her 60's we're referring to, whose knowledge of her own language was crafted by the Russian Cyrillic takeover of Mongolia and was average at best. To improve her mind and herself, she hopes to learn english so that one day, she can travel to the US to see her children away from home. Her goals go on and on.  She takes a personal inventory of her situation spiritually, emotionally, and physically, and writes them all down. The things she does well go on one side of the page. The specific things she plans to work on go on the other side. One goal she wrote down was to show more love to those that seemed to be judging her, even in her pain.  She refuses to be complacent because she knows that she has a final destiny far beyond what anyone would imagine for her now. She knows that she is a child of God whose future and destiny will be that of royalty.

The day to day grind of dealing with an active family is nothing new to Narangerel. She takes care of her two grandchildren at home, this after having raised five of her own to adulthood. Her middle daughter, Ariuntuya, still lives home while her husband works in the countryside. In a lighthearted moment, Narangerel told me, “I'm just now starting to understand how to relate to my husband. I mean, we've been married upwards of 30 years, and I thought I understood him. I learn new things all the time. Did you know that when men get upset, some good meat and a little hug can help fix the evening? I didn't! It's amazing!” she joked. “Here I'd spent all this time trying to figure out how his mind works, and now I'm just starting!” She is proof that even those with age, whom you would think would have deep relationship wisdom, still work on it just as anyone else, with the end goal of a happy marriage and peaceful home. No matter how much a person has lived, life still teaches important lessons.  None of us has it figured out completely.  As she laughed about it, the spaces in her teeth were obvious, and the fact that she was using a match as a cue tip did not escape my glance. But that all just added to the hilarity of it all, and made me love the woman that much more.

One thing that has always kept her on my mind has been "little pictures." Narangerel, though she's no professional, loves to draw. Her drawings are always simple, situational, and quaint, but they remind me constantly of times where I could have sworn that even angels could not have been happier than I was right then, with that family, in that little town, in the middle of Outer Mongolia. A small book she gave to me in June of 2008 shows a pencil drawing of a small ger (circular tent house) with a bright green door crossed by red lines in an almost exact view of her own home. Beside it reads “This is our home... always remember.” The back page says, “The pictures in this little book are the love that God has given to us. I will pray for God to bless you with the chance to come back to us...” signed Narangerel, Ariuntuya, and Sarantuya. Her simple words penetrated my heart. Seeing her again after a year of absence and seeing her imperfect but angelic smile, red cheeks, and gray hair was one of the greatest times of my life.

She is a small yet powerful beacon of light in this big universe. If you think about it, even the sun is a small speck in the universe, but it gives life to all of us and all those around it. Narangerel is the same....

… which is fitting: Narangerel means Sunlight.

"Happy Are Ye...": A Best Friend's Lesson

A few years ago, I was told a story out of the New Testament about Christ’s final hours.  From this story, I learned a lesson that transformed the way I view others, difficulties, and how I cope with them.

Everyone has moments of great anxiety, stress, or doubt.  Life is tailored to test every individual according to his or her specific weaknesses.  It is interesting to note that people rarely struggle with their strengths.  Everyone has empty, pensive moments that leave us asking or wanting to ask, “Why?”

The lesson taught by Christ himself to his best friends shifts our prayers away from the question, “Why?” to the new question, “How can I thank you enough?”

The night before Jesus was crucified, and a matter of minutes before he trudged across Jerusalem to a lonely spot on a hill called Gethsemane, he spent some time with his closest twelve friends and Apostles.  He taught them essential lessons about their dependence on him, about how to truly love, and about what he was asking them to do once he was gone.  It was the most intimate setting in which he had spoken, and a lot about his personality and his loving care comes out.  If you want to get to know the Savior, read John 13-18.

During this time, he said, “This is my commandment, that ye love one another as I have loved you.  Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends,” (John 15:12-13).  He said so knowing that he would shortly be doing exactly that. 

He knew that it was going to hurt more than he could possibly imagine.  He had been preparing for it all his life—physically, spiritually, and mentally.  The weight of the stress, the worry, and the monumental nature of the task of atoning for the sins, mistakes, and pain of every creature bore down on him so much so that his soul was “exceedingly sorrowful, even unto death,” (Matt. 26:39).

Yet in the midst of this time of great anxiety—while the Savior had a score of reasons and probably a right to be worried and concerned about himself—when he stood in the face of heartache like no man has ever known, he looked outward.

He washed his disciples’ feet.  In the ancient world, washing someone’s feet was considered a high honor because of the lowness of the task.  Callused, blistered, dirt covered feet were all they knew as they walked the dusty roads of Judea.  Jesus gave them a great symbolic service that night.  When he was at his most painful moments in his earthly life, he gave the most care to those around him—even the one who betrayed him.

Jesus served in suffering.  He did not become a cocoon of self-pity, but became a beacon of hope to those who do ache.

Christ explained why he did this in very simple language.

“I then, your Lord and Master… have given you an example, that ye should do as I have done to you.”  He served in suffering.  That is the instruction given by his example and words.

To this, he adds a promise.  “If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do them,” (John 13:14, 15, 17). 

This promise was not conditioned on any time period.  He did not say that we would be happy sometime afterward.  There was no other condition to the promise once we have done these things in actively thinking of others.  It is says simply you will be happy.  Even if it is only for those moments at which we lift another person up by giving our time, our talents, our knowledge, our attention, our consideration, our compassion, or our affection, we are promised joy.

At our lowest points, where do we look?  Do we look inside ourselves for the secret to happiness? Or do we look away from ourselves to find that the door is already opened?

The secret to happiness is not to worry or think about being happy—it is to be concerned at making others happy.  When that happens, we become more like Christ, and these words of our Best Friend to his best friends take power in our hearts to lift us out of whatever situation we may be in, if only for a moment—but that will be enough to get us through the day with a smile.

After all, are we not here to be happy?

  

Forgiveness Has Come to Stay

Today marks the beginning of a new year.  Every 365 days, we are given an opportunity to reflect upon our decisions over the previous 52 weeks.  A few years ago, my sister told me, “Sometimes people have bad days.  Sometimes it may be bad weeks, months, or even years.  The point is that there is a finite amount of time attached to the bad.”  To some, the previous year was full of light.  To others, it was a relentless battle with darkness.  But whatever the status of 2011, we have a chance to make 2012 the best year we have ever had.

Amidst all of the reflection of the New Year, I have thought a lot about what it means to start afresh.  In order to truly look forward to what God has in store for us, it becomes essential for us to let go of the pain of the past.  That requires forgiveness—of others’ mistakes, of traumatic situations and events, and perhaps most importantly, of ourselves.

One story overlooked in the scriptures that has a lot more to offer than we give it credit for is the book of Jonah.  It holds a lesson within its pages that, if we are willing to look for it, can change our whole lives.

To be brief, the story of Jonah begins with God commanding the prophet Jonah who lived in Israel sometime between 786 and 746 BC to go to Nineveh and preach repentance and faith in God to the inhabitants of the city.  The alternative to changing their ways was destruction.  Jonah flees the command of God, and after being swallowed in the belly of a whale or great fish for three days, finally preaches to the Ninevites, who then immediately repent and turn their hearts to God once more.  To this, Jonah turns an angry eye.  He sat atop a hill nearby in a desire to watch Nineveh decimated.  Unfortunately, people do not often look past the part of the story with the fish.

Three questions within the context of this story illuminate the lesson we can take away from it.

1)      Why did Jonah flee?

2)      “Doest thou well to be angry?” which God asks of Jonah when Nineveh repents.

3)      “Should not I spare Nineveh?”

Why did Jonah Flee?

Jonah had been told to teach the people of Nineveh, the capital of the Assyrian Empire, which was considered one of the most fearsome and brutal nations in history.  But Jonah didn’t necessarily flee from the call because he was afraid of the Assyrians.  He did it out of seething hatred.  The nation of Israel had been involved in a long war with Assyria that had begun as early as the 9^th century BC and ended in the annihilation of Israel in 721 BC.  Jonah had good reason to despise the Ninevites.  The Assyrians had been responsible for killing his countrymen, pillaging, raping, and forcing the Israelite kings to pay a bloody tribute to them.  He wanted Nineveh to burn to the ground, and he wanted to see it.  God’s sending him to teach repentance, a doctrine based on love and forgiveness, meant that there was the possibility of redemption and escape of a terrible fate for Nineveh.  The thought elicited pain and anger for Jonah.  He was trying to protect his heart from the agony of facing those who had hurt him and God’s people.  He fled Nineveh because he wanted them to taste a bitter retribution, so much so that he said, when seeing Nineveh go untouched by God’s hand, “It is better for me to die than to live.”  That’s how deeply he loathed them.  To give you an idea, it would be like an American being told that they needed to teach Al Qaeda about God with the promise that if they changed their ways, they would be spared.  How would we respond?  I think we may do the same thing Jonah did.  But God knew what was in Jonah’s heart and wanted to change it.  That is why he called him to teach, love, and forgive the Ninevites. 

“Doest thou well to be angry?” 

So when we are hurt deeply—so much that we say we would rather die than see those who have harmed us receive mercy—what do we do?  God asks us the same question.  What does being angry give us?  What purpose does holding on to bitterness and resentment serve but to poison us and destroy our peace?  There is a reason that God has said, “Of you it is required to forgive all men.”  What is that reason? 

Forgiveness was not given to man as a tool for people to be absolved of responsibility for sin.  It was given as a gift for the forgiver to receive peace.  To not be forgiven for something for which you have no remorse does a man no good.  Receiving forgiveness is not the point.  If someone asks for your forgiveness, it may be easier to give.  If they do not, the requirement is still in force.  But why? 

The Atonement of Jesus Christ extends not only to save sinners, but also to save those who are pained by the effects of others’ sins—even our own.  Christ suffered for every pain we feel.  This includes the turmoil we feel when we refuse to forgive someone and nurse the wounds of the past.  To say that we will not or cannot forgive someone else or ourselves is to suggest that the Atonement, Christ’s infinite sacrifice, is not sufficient; because for every minute we lose our peace, Christ must suffer more.  So what’s the point of holding on to any pain from anyone?  If we can let the Savior do what he came to do—to save us—we will find what we need in order to be healed.  Holding on to the pain makes his job harder.  In essence, we refuse to let the physician heal our wounds because we think we can do it ourselves.  The command, “forgive all men,” is a strong way of saying let it go—I will take care of it.

“Should not I spare Nineveh?” 

The book of Jonah ends with this question.  It’s a question posed to us for whoever may have wronged us for whatever reason.  Only we can answer for what is in our hearts.

The Atonement extends to everyone.  Everyone.  That includes those who have hurt us.  If we expect and want mercy when we have made mistakes, we must extend the same to others.  Doing otherwise is hypocrisy or assuming God loves us more than he loves his other children.  He loves us the same—none less than another.  Looking at either extreme (that we are more loved or somehow less loved) is dangerous.  The requirement to forgive encompasses our own mistakes as well.

“Should not I spare _______?”  Put your own name or own situation in the blank and see how it feels.  Learning our own lessons may spare us from the dark experience of Jonah if we will let it.  In order for us to embrace what God has planned, we should let loose past pain from our aching, trembling grips.  After all, a clenched fist can never take the hand of friendship.

Perhaps in a quiet moment of the day, we may stop and look inward to realize that our tears have stopped, that our hearts are at peace, and that forgiveness has come to stay.  Learning to forgive and making the decision to have a forgiving and tender heart will put us one step closer to being like Christ and tasting the same sweet joy he knows so perfectly. 

Happy 2012.  Let’s do this one right.

"When We Had Gone Astray": Lessons from A Christmas Carol

Over the past few months, it has been my pleasure to work in a fantastic production of Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol.”  I have had the opportunity to play the character Young Scrooge, the shadow that the bitter Ebenezer Scrooge watches in reminiscing joy as he learns to be happy, falls in love, and is eventually engaged to the young and cheerful Belle.  The next heart-wrenching scene is that of Belle breaking the engagement and leaving young Ebenezer because he is engrossed in a pursuit of wealth while his life goals have changed.  The scene ends with a touching duet between old and young Scrooge and a new understanding as to what it was that made Ebenezer Scrooge so cold.

Now, I don’t consider myself talented enough to call myself an actor—what I have to give, I try to give so that other people can hopefully take something uplifting away from the performance.  However, I have to say that in the process of getting to know a character as I perform, I have learned more from young Ebenezer Scrooge than I have from any other character.

You see, Ebenezer Scrooge was not always a bitter old man.  At one time, he was a carefree teenager, a young man who had the joy of living deeply engrained into his soul.  His transformation into what we have morphed into an epithet for someone who is unfeeling and self-centered was not instantaneous.  It was not borne out of some disastrous event in his life.  It was not that he was destined to become an unkind man from the beginning.  His change was not the result of irrational anger or intrinsic bitterness in heart.  No, it is much more subtle than that.

The attitudes that developed over the course of Ebenezer Scrooge’s life were a response to the world he lived in.  When Fred, his nephew, says, “Don’t be angry, Uncle,” Scrooge’s asks, “What else can I be when I live in such a world of fools as this?”

Is he wrong?  Scrooge was a hard-working man.  Most people nowadays would think him a good man if work ethic were the standard why which we judge.  His suspicion that there were some in his community freeloading on charity and tax funded programs was probably true.  The desire to “be left alone” is one that millions shared at his time and in ours.  How many of us have said the same thing?  Christmas comes at a cold and dark time of the year.  If we had never had a Christmas to look back on fondly or to look forward to in anticipation, would we have any reason to be merry? At the time Charles Dickens wrote “A Christmas Carol,” the concept of celebrating Christmas had all but vanished.  How are we surprised that Scrooge found no solace in the holiday?

Scrooge’s look back on his own transformation gives us the best view into his heart.  The conversation between Young Scrooge and Belle holds some perfect lenses through which we can see the grown Ebenezer.

Belle: Another idol has displaced me.

Scrooge: What idol has displaced you?

Belle: A golden one.

Scrooge: This is the way of the world.  There is nothing harder on one than poverty, and I will not condemn the honest pursuit of wealth.

Belle: You fear the world too much.  All your hopes have merged into the hope of acquiring money and power.

Scrooge: If I have grown so much wiser, what then?  I am not changed towards you, am I?

Belle: When our promise was made you were another man.

Scrooge: I was a boy.

Belle: There, you have said it too.  Your feelings betray that you are not now what you were… We promised each other happiness when we were one.  That promised happiness has turned to misery.  And so I can release you… I would gladly think otherwise if I could, heaven knows… May you be happy in the life you have chosen.

The song that follows says this:

Young Scrooge: “I was a boy—I was then so deep in love, I knew such joy.   But now a man I face the pain of doing everything I can.  This world is cruel; and if you don’t have the means to pay, it’s in the poor house you will stay—you’ll have nothing.”

Old Scrooge: “You were a boy.  If you knew what love was worth, you’d stay a boy.  But now a man, you’ve thrown away the greatest treasure that you can.  This world is cruel; and if you don’t have that love today, you’ll never find a better way—you’ll have nothing.  I was a boy.  Now I’m an old man… (to himself) You fool!”

You see, young Ebenezer Scrooge was not overtaken simply by the allure of riches.  He was motivated by fear.  He was driven by insecurity.  He was pushed by vulnerability.  As he prepared to become a husband and eventually a father, Ebenezer Scrooge’s light was not choked out by greed, but was suppressed by rational worry over how to navigate the world in which he lived.  He loved Belle and wanted to build a good foundation for them.  That is why he could not wrap his mind around what Belle was saying about the pursuit of money.  His impatience with her was not because she was a bother to his goals, but because he felt that she couldn’t understand what he was trying to do in providing a life for them. 

In the end, it was not a deep, dark personal flaw that made Scrooge into the cold man he became.  It was what is common to all men—he was afraid.  He was overprotective of what he loved so much that he withheld other good things in his nature.  He was so terrified of being vulnerable, of being able to be hurt, of being powerless and heartbroken that he turned off his heart.  But it was broken anyway.  At first, it was broken because of the solitude of his life.  God broke it the right way in his old age and it led to his eventual abiding happiness.

The Savior told a parable about this when he spoke of a sower.  This is the only parable to be included in all of the synoptic gospels.  I think that it is because it stood out in the disciples’ minds and touched their hearts so much that all three of the writers felt the need to include it.

“A sower went out to sow his seed: and as he sowed, some fell by the way side; and it was trodden down, and the fowls of the air devoured it.

And some fell upon a rock; and as soon as it was sprung up, it withered away, because it lacked moisture.

And some fell among thorns; and the thorns sprang up with it, and choked it.

And other fell on good ground, and sprang up, and bare fruit an hundredfold. And when he had said these things, he cried, He that hath ears to hear, let him hear,” (Luke 8:5-8).

In this parable, the seed is the Word of God.  It can be called in our story the Spirit of Christmas or the principles of happiness.  The way in which these principles take root depends upon the condition of the heart when the seed is received and the continual process by which it is nourished. 

Notice that there are four general conditions through which the seed may progress.  Each of these conditions represents a different type of person or situation that prevents us from truly being happy. 

1.      Those that fell by the wayside.  These represent those who hear the word but have no understand of what it means.  They don’t even listen to find out what those principles of happiness are.  They miss the entire spirit of Christmas.  They may just not be ready.

2.      Those that fell on a rock or hard ground, sprung up, and withered.  These are those that felt something amazing when they had their first interactions, but when things get difficult, they have no root, no moisture, and wither away.  Their enthusiasm for life dies out when trials come.  As Mark puts it, “they are offended.”  They complain that what they are facing is unfair or perhaps more than someone else.  I think we all have these moments because we simply can’t see what other people are overcoming.  Everyone has their own heartaches.

3.      Those that fell on good ground and bare fruit in 30’s, 60’s, and 100’s.  These are those that had an “honest heart” and really tried to share and keep the spirit of Christmas and those principles of happiness alive.  They multiplied those fruits endure with patience.   They found warmth amidst the cold of winter and imparted of it.

4.      Those that fell among thorns.  These are those that had taken root—those who understood the principles of happiness, the gospel of Christ, and the true spirit of Christmas at one point.  But the thorns and weeds, the cares of the world begin to choke out that plant of faith and optimism.

Ebenezer Scrooge understood those principles of happiness when he first met Belle.  The Word had been planted in his heart.  But as he grew, the cares of the world—that worry over providing for a family, of work and school and the material things necessary to live on the earth—made him so afraid, so monochromatic, and so focused on providing those needs that he was consumed by it.  It blocked the rest of his vision and hardened his heart and did so in a way so subtle that he didn’t even notice it.

These things are not a sin or a transgression, but they are a distraction.  We’d do well to realize that distraction is a choice weapon of the Adversary to choke our faith.

The difference between pre-ghostly visit Scrooge and post-ghostly visit Scrooge is not a large one.  It is only a slight adjustment.  Ebenezer Scrooge simply decided that what God thought of him, what he thought of himself, and the well-being of his fellowmen were all more important than those cares of the world. Seeing Tiny Tim gone and the struggle of the Cratchit family at dealing with the loss broke his heart.  He decided to believe that one person could actually change another’s life.  He chose to be that change. He realized that caring for others is more essential to a man’s soul than a comfortable home and productivity.  He chose to be vulnerable in the name of Christ-like love.  He chose to produce fruit abundantly.  The question we must answer of ourselves is how much fruit will I bear?

We too struggle with the cares of the world.  It may be the same concern as Scrooge—we may be anxious about the provision of a good temporal life for our family.  We may be struggling to make ends meet or pay off debt.  We may bury ourselves in a fortress of books in the hope of getting the grades we need to get into a good graduate school.  We may be hiding our children from the cruelty of the world behind our own front doors to try to protect them.  We see people how they are and assume the worst in them because it means we are not left open to attack or pain.  We are afraid to share our talents because we fear they may not be well received.  We may be unforgiving in the hope that we are never pained again.  We let the incessant demands on our time, money, and energy become incessant demands on our spirits.  We lose faith in the goodness of humanity.  We find ourselves thrust deep into the darkness and cold of winter.

Ebenezer Scrooge had lost faith in humanity.  His eye-opening experience was in seeing that not only was he depleting his own happiness with such an attitude, but that he had inadvertently fallen victim to the very attitudes he had accused others of possessing.  Through his painful visions he realized that not only did God have power to change and save him, but that he himself had power to help save others.  It was through that broken heart that he found a new life.

Often I think that in order for us to be truly happy and to make others happy, we have to allow our hearts to break.  We have to be willing to be vulnerable.  God wants our hearts to be more tender.  He wants us to be like him—and he is very tender-hearted.

CS Lewis said:

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one… Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.” 

This was the condition of Scrooge’s heart.  This is quite often the condition of our hearts.  Ebenezer Scrooge represents each of us in our moment of selfish worrying about our own problems.  That was Scrooge’s weakness.  That is where he had gone astray.

The final scene of the production shows Ebenezer Scrooge alone in his office with a single candle.  It is evident in this scene that not only was Scrooge a new man, but his faith in God restored his faith in God’s children.

Scrooge: “I don’t deserve it.  I just don’t deserve to be this happy.  But I can’t help it…

God rest ye merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay.

Remember Christ, our Savior, was born on Christmas day

To save us all from Satan’s power when we had gone astray;

Oh tidings of comfort and joy.”

None of us truly deserves to be happy—it’s a gift that we cannot repay.  Yet we are happy and can continue to be happy as long as we understand where it comes from. 

The tidings of comfort and joy that Christmas brings are this:

“All we, like sheep, have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the LORD hath laid on [Christ] the iniquity of us all,” (Isaiah 53: 6).  Notice how the song does not say “if” we had gone astray, but “when” we had gone astray.  Whether it be lost in the cares of the world or the darkness of winter, Christ, a SAVIOR is come into the world to save us from the distractions that harden our hearts and rob us of our happiness.  Allowing him to give us what we need to have broken and tender hearts is the key to being happier than we know we deserve. 

Christmas is a reminder that we have no reason to dismay.  And for that, we should have joy.

Merry Christmas

To Cast Out All Fear

It is a natural fact of basic physics that light and dark cannot occupy the same space at the same time.  Light, in itself, is both particle and wave.  However, the space that is occupied by a spectrum of light is not dually occupied by something which is categorically called the absence of light—darkness.

The same is true with faith and fear.  The two cannot exist in the same heart at the same time.  They may take turns from moment to moment, but one always wins out over the other at any given instant. 

So where does fear come from?

“For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind,” (2 Tim. 1:7).

Fear comes not from God, but from the imagination and cunning of the Adversary.  Solomon called fear a snare (Prov. 29:25), one used by Satan to stunt our spiritual progression, and ‘interrupt [our] rejoicings’ (Alma 30:22).  The only type of fear the Lord usually employs is fear of the consequences of sin which leads us to repentance, which, ironically, if it were not for Satan’s deceptions in the first place, there would be no need for God to employ it.  This is why the prophets in every dispensation have been very honest and forthcoming about the consequences of sin.  They, “did threaten the people… that if they did not keep the commandments, they should be destroyed.  For they did prick their hearts with the word, continually stirring them up to repentance,” (Jarom 1:10, 12).

The times the Lord uses fear are usually sparse and he has given us the promise, “Whosoever belongeth to my church need not fear,” (D&C 10:55).  This is defining “belong to the church” as those who are faithful in keeping the commandments. 

But it is hard not to fear.  In a world of terror, where do we find the peace that we seek?  It is not that people of faith are somehow blind and unaware of what’s going on around them—oh no—in fact, I know of no other people that are acquainted with the ugly side of the world better than people who fight against it.

The peace we seek comes from a few words in the scriptures. 

Confidence:

In English, the word confidence carries a similar ring to that of the word confirm.  It also holds part of the root of fidelity.  So confidence is the confirmation that our fidelity to God is acceptable to him, and that we can honestly stand before him knowing we have done our best.  It also contains the firm resolve that one is capable, with God’s help, of doing hard things and overcoming large challenges.  It is evident in the scriptures that confidence is contingent upon righteousness.  “Let virtue garnish thy thoughts unceasingly, and then shall thy confidence wax strong in the presence of God,” (D&C 121:45).  When we place our confidence in God, we are promised success.  “For the LORD shall be thy confidence, and shall keep thy foot from being taken,” (Prov 3:26).

Courage:

Courage is the ability to conquer fear or unwaveringness in the face of fear.  It is demonstrated in the scriptures and in the lives of the saints.  One example is a group of young men faced with the task of saving their lands, countrymen, and religion. 

“ …that never had I seen so great courage...  For as I had ever called them my sons (for they were all of them very young) even so they said unto me: Father, behold our God is with us, and he will not suffer that we should fall; then let us go forth; we would not slay our brethren if they would let us alone; therefore let us go, lest they should overpower the army of Antipus.  Now they never had fought, yet they did not fear death; and they did think more upon the liberty of their fathers than they did upon their lives; yea, they had been taught by their mothers, that if they did not doubt, God would deliver them. And they rehearsed unto me the words of their mothers, saying: We do not doubt our mothers knew it,” (Alma 56:45-48).

The courage of these young men was above that of the grown men of society.  The source of their courage was faith.  Courage and confidence come from faith, are maintained by faith, and find their end together with the end of faith.  In fact, in many languages, faith and confidence are the same word.  These young men understood, because of their faith, a promise and protection that they may have read about for themselves: “Fear not, for they that be with us are more than they that be with them,” (2 Kings 6:16).  There is nothing written in the scriptural record, but I like to imagine them, like Elisha, surrounded by unseen heavenly helpers in that battle as well, giving real testimony to the Savior’s promise, “I will fight your battles,” (D&C 105:14).

So it is with us as we move forward.  We must look for the keys necessary for us to have the blessings of courage and confidence.  “There is a law, irrevocably decreed in heaven before the foundations of this world, upon which all blessings are predicated-- And when we obtain any blessing from God, it is by obedience to that law upon which it is predicated,” (D&C 130:20-21). Often times, we misunderstand this scripture.  We think it is all about obeying specific commandments and receiving specific blessings.  Certainly verse 21 points to that, but at the beginning, it talks about the key to all courage: A LAW—one law upon which all blessings we receive are predicated.  

That law is faith in Jesus Christ.  That is why it is the first principle of his gospel preparatory to the reception of every blessing.

Faith is an action.  It is putting into action the hope that God is there, that he loves us, and that he gives us directions for our own good.  Faith is manifest in obedience.  As we obey, we receive faith as a “reward for personal righteousness.”  As faith grows, so does our courage.  We will find ourselves new people, doing and saying things in the confidence of he who sent us and whose instructions we are obeying.  If you are afraid, obey the commandments, the counsel of the prophets, and the voice of the Holy Spirit who adapts them all to your personal circumstances; you will find courage you may never have thought you could have.  

There is one more way in which fear is dispelled and courage enforced.  It was spoken of by Christ when he outlined the 2 great commandments:  “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself,” (Matt. 22:37-40).

When we think of a hero, we sometimes envision the brightly-colored tights wearing, masked characters of the silver screen.  In these movies, the hero endures pain, suppresses fear and despair, and risks everything to save those they love, and sometimes those they don’t even know.  Perhaps they took a page from Mosiah when it says of his sons, “They could not bear that any human soul should perish; yeah, even the very thought… did cause them to quake and tremble,” (Mosiah 28:3).  These heroes endure much.  There is one who “descended below them all,” but who now stands above us all.  On a piece of paper with a leaky blue pen in Outer Mongolia, I wrote something that I think expresses how I feel.  I’d like to share it:

I’d like to tell you about my hero.

I’ve never met him; I’ve never even seen his face.

Like the masked figures in a movie, his face was hidden from me, and before I could truly say ‘thank you’ in words, he was gone from sight just as every moment slips silently into the next.

I felt his embrace briefly as he grabbed me from the fire—but it has never left me, and he left something burning in my heart.

He was a King, and yet saw me in danger and came to rescue me.

In a dark hour, he descended, walked into the fires of death and hell before me enduring every burn, every scald until the fire was quenched—and after, he plunged into the dark, thick abyss below, beneath the suffocating pressure of a placed called ‘Olive Press.’

As I lay beaten, scalded, crushed, and panting, he fought my captor face to face, his only weapon a heavy block of wood and a few nails. 

I watched him endure the wounds of that battle.  I sat helplessly as he gave everything—all alone because all had forsaken him.

As I watched, I could not help but weep because I knew I was unworthy of such devotion.  And when at last his enemy was slain, he looked up and declared, ‘It is finished.’

My bonds were loosed, but still I never saw his face for myself—only from a distance.  He endured this all, because, as he said, ‘I love you—perfectly.’  

As I ran from my chains, a note was left in the place he had fought saying, ‘As I have loved you… love one another.’

He loved me with a pure love called charity.  All he asked of me was to love others perfectly as he had done.

He knew that if I could do that, I would not fear—I could be as brave as he was—for ‘perfect love casteth out all fear.’

Grace Will Lead Me Home

I have thought lately about the term “Christian.”  It was originally used as an epithet against early believers in Jesus by the Romans who considered them contemptible.  Nowadays, the term has a completely different meaning.  It means a follower, a disciple, and a student of Christ.  Above all, a Christian is one who strives, as Jesus said, to be like him (3 Nephi 27:27).

In all my musings on the subject, I started asking myself not only WWJD (What Would Jesus Do?) but HDJD—How did Jesus do?

Often Jesus talked about the glory he had before he came to the earth.  However, Paul teaches that Christ, in essence, had to start over.  “Who, being in the form of God… made himself of no reputation and took upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men… [and] humbled himself and became obedient unto death,” (Philippians 2:6-8).  The early Greek manuscripts use the word kenosis meaning “pour out.”  When Christ came to earth to be our Savior, he was emptied and having to begin anew as a mortal man.

Luke says that Christ, as a teenager, “increased in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and man,” (Luke 2:52).  He had to grow.  So how did he progress in such a perfect, sinless way?

John, his relative and friend, said about his development, “He received not of the fullness at the first, but received grace for grace; and he received not of the fullness at first, but continued from grace, until he received a fullness; and thus he was called the Son of God,” (D&C 93:12-14). There is a reason “grace for grace” is repeated so often.  Jesus relied on a gift of God called GRACE.

Grace can be called the enabling power of God.  It is this power that enabled Christ to learn and grow rapidly, completely unretarded by the effects of sin.  It is the grace of God that fortified him and made it possible to resist all sin.  It is the inherent grace of his Sonship that gave him power over death.  So too is grace a power given to us in measure that not only saves us at death, but that helps us to do good and do all the things God has asked of us.

So who receives this gift here and now?  The Apostle James teaches us, “But he giveth more grace.  Wherefore he saith, God resisteth the proud but giveth grace unto the humble,” (James 4:6).  God gives his grace to those who will humbly recognize where it came from.  How does real humility come?  It comes in the realization of Paul, “By the grace of God I am what I am… I labored more abundantly than they all; yet not I, but the grace of God which was in me,” (1 Cor. 15:10).  It is a realization that every good deed we do is not really us, but God’s grace, his wisdom and love that is passed through us to accomplish good.  After all, the way God usually answers the prayers of his children is through his other children.  Humility comes not only in that realization, but also in light of our weaknesses.

Christ tells us, “If men come unto me, I will show them their weakness.  I give unto men weakness that they may be humble,” (Ether 12:27).  Our weakness is a sign of the love of God, for it gives us the opportunity to be humble so that we may qualify for this help.  The Savior adds, “And my grace is sufficient for all men who humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them.”

Paul, in a rare moment of public introspection, described his experience this way:

“And lest I should be exalted above measure through the abundance of the revelations, there was given to me a thorn in the flesh, the messenger of Satan to buffet me…  For this thing I besought the Lord thrice, that it might depart from me.  And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness,” (2 Cor. 12:7-9).   Three times Paul asked for help.  Notice how aid was not immediate.  His faith was tried.  But, he says, “When I am weak, then am I strong.”

Twice we see the phrase “my grace is sufficient.”  What does God mean when he says it?  He is giving us a promise that in whatever he asks of us, he will give us the grace, the power, and the ability to perform it and endure it happily.  This may extend to responsibilities in church, in our families, to our friends, to our spouse, or in the biding of the storm of a heart-wrenching trial.  He is promising that, though it may seem like more than we are able to bear, his power is enough for us because all things are in his hands; he will not leave us powerless.

The only condition for this promise is that we are humble enough to ask for it.  Then we will receive as he promised when he said, “Ask, and ye shall receive, knock, and it shall be opened unto you,” (D&C 4:7).

Examples of this are everywhere.  Missionaries learn seemingly impossible languages in months and endure weather and conditions into which no normal person would want to venture.  They talk to strangers daily and are asked to lead groups of people much more experienced than they are.  The pressure of persecution often lies squarely on their shoulders.  They are given an added measure of grace to accomplish their work—but not without a price. 

We often ask, “Why is this so hard?”  One answer rings loudly.  Jeffrey R. Holland said, “You will have occasion to ask those questions. I have thought about this a great deal. I offer this as my personal feeling. I am convinced that [life] is not easy because salvation is not a cheap experience.  Salvation never was easy.   We are the Church of Jesus Christ… How could we believe it would be easy for us when it was never, ever easy for Him?  It seems to me that [we all] have to spend at least a few moments in Gethsemane… to take at least a step or two toward the summit of Calvary.”

Every person has their own Gethsemane and takes a few steps toward Calvary.  It is because of these few steps that we learn to be humble enough to receive the grace of God and to become acquainted with God.  We understand a bit of what the Savior experienced.  It is in those moments of humble desperation that we begin to see our strengths.

In the early summer of 2009, I was living in a relatively comfortable apartment in Ulaanbaatar, capital city of Mongolia.  I began to notice a slight pain in my chest after fighting off strep throat the week before.  Monday morning, I was preparing to teach on the topic of grace.  I had felt like it was exactly what my small group of young missionaries needed because of the difficulties we had all faced the previous weeks.  As I boarded the bus, my chest started pounding in pain.

Later, I found out that I had developed a condition called pericarditis—an inflammation of the outer lining of the heart where nerves are densely packed and particularly sensitive.  Every time my heart beat, it felt as if a large man was shoving the full weight of his leg and body into my sternum.  Each breath added exponentially to the pain.  It was so bad that I couldn’t stand or sit up correctly.

As we began discussing grace, I apologized to my friends that were waiting to hear something to lift them up because I couldn’t speak very well and couldn’t stand to write on the board.  So two of my friends, Chimeddavaa and Urangoo, shared experiences from their work with the large hearing impaired group they had grown to love so much.  They talked to us about the power of those simple moments when, despite the exhaustion and emotional depletion of feeling that your best is not enough, God makes you strong—he makes you enough. 

As they finished talking, I found the strength to stand and tell my friends that I knew that God was there, that he is aware of us, that he loves us, and that we were engaged in letting our brothers and sisters know about that love.  The moment our lesson ended, I collapsed back into my chair, tears being forced from my eyes by the piercing pain in my heart which seemed to cut at every blood vessel in my body.  I was at my breaking point.  It was at this time that I received a simple message from my Heavenly Father—just wait.  Be patient.  This was not what I wanted to hear.

For three days, I sat at a 45 degree angle.  Lying down put pressure on my chest.  Sitting up forced my heart to work harder.  I could barely speak.  Peter, my good friend, took care of me.  He cooked for me, organized work, and waited on me every hour of those excruciating days.

After the most physically painful three days of my life were over, I felt my heart was much stronger than before, both in a literal and figurative sense.

The mother who has spent the third night in a row tending to a crying child in the middle of the night, rocking the ever distraught baby in an effort to somehow rock away her own sadness; the anxious father, emotionally broken and physically exhausted in working three jobs to support a young family with no guarantee of where their next meal will come from; the struggling student, alone in a new place having to make a life of their own, fighting off sleep to finish their paper and study for a final exam that taxes the uttermost part of their mental capacity and their sanity; the worried parents whose child feels lost; the childless couple yearning for someone they can love unconditionally; the one who has spent hours at their bedside pleading for help on behalf of their beloved friend; the lonely and depressed soul; all these can find that, wherever they are, God can make their best enough.  His grace is sufficient.  He promised, “I will not leave you comfortless,” (John 14:18).

Some of the prophet Moroni’s last words bring to mind our goal to become like Christ: “Come unto Christ and be perfected in him, and deny yourselves of all ungodliness; and if ye deny yourselves of all ungodliness and love God with all your might, mind, and strength, then is his grace sufficient for you, that by his grace ye may be perfect in Christ… and yet are sanctified in Christ by the grace of God,” (Moroni 10:32-33).

As we seek this enabling power daily and as we develop to become more like Christ, by the approving eye of Providence and by his will, Christ will give us what we need to make it.  Take hold upon that power. 

The song says it better than I:

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see.

T'was Grace that taught my heart to fear.
And Grace, my fears relieved.
How precious did that Grace appear
The hour I first believed.

Through many dangers, toils and snares
I have already come;
'Tis Grace that brought me safe thus far
and Grace will lead me home.

The Lord has promised good to me.
His word my hope secures.
He will my shield and portion be,
As long as life endures.

Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,
And mortal life shall cease,
I shall possess within the veil,
A life of joy and peace.

As the promise says, “Behold, ye are little children and ye cannot bear all things now; ye must grow in grace and in the knowledge of the truth.  Fear not, little children, for you are mine, and I have overcome the world, and you are of them that my Father hath given me.  And none of them that my Father hath given me shall be lost,” (D&C50:40-42).

Grace will lead us home.