Peace on Earth—Christmas talk 12/17/06

Peace on Earth—Christmas talk 12/17/06

We are all familiar with Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s poem, “Christmas Bells”—we know it better as Hymn #214 “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day.”  Sister Julie Franklin, a professor at BYU, gave a Devotional speech this past December 5^th in which she provided some background to Longfellow’s writing of the poem.  “Christmas Bells”  was written in 1864, during the Civil War.  Longfellow’s son, Charles, had enlisted as a 17-year-old to fight in the war and had been sent home critically injured two weeks before Christmas.  With war raging and his son beginning to recuperate from his wounds, Longfellow penned the words we sing today of “peace on earth, good will to men.”

[Read Hymn #214, verses 1 & 2]:

I heard the bells on Christmas day

Their old familiar carols play,

And wild and sweet the words repeat

Of peace on earth, good will to men.

I thought how, as the day had come,

The belfries of all Christendom

Had rolled along th’unbroken song

Of peace on earth, good will to men.    

In Longfellow’s original poem the verse we know as verse 5 comes next, with two more verses that are omitted from the song: [Read verse 5, then the two omitted verses, then vs. 3 & 4]

Till, ringing, singing, on its way

The world revolved from night to day,

A voice, a chime, a chant sublime,

Of peace on earth, good will to men!

Then from each black, accursed mouth

The cannon thundered in the South,

And with the sound / The carols drowned

Of peace on earth, good will to men.

It was as if an earthquake rent

The hearthstones of a continent,

And made forlorn / The households born

Of peace on earth, good will to men.

And in despair I bowed my head:

“There is no peace on earth,” I said,

“For hate is strong and maocks the song

Of peace on earth, good will to men.”

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:

“God is not dead, nor doth he sleep;

The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,

With peace on earth, good will to men.”

Over 140 years have passed since Longfellow wrote, “The wrong shall fail, the right prevail, with peace on earth, good will to men.”  Longfellow had faith in the words of Luke describing the events surrounding the birth of Jesus Christ:  “And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.’”  (Luke 2:13)  But anyone who listens to the news today might also bow his head in despair and wonder—where is this peace that was promised with the coming of the Savior?

I would like to turn to an unlikely story in the Book of Mormon that might help us.  When Enos went into the woods to hunt, he had time to reflect on the state of his soul.  He wrestled in prayer for hours, seeking for a remission of his sins:  “And there came a voice unto me saying: Enos, thy sins are forgiven thee, and thou shalt be blessed.  And I, Enos, knew that God could not lie; wherefore my guilt was swept away.  And I said: Lord, how is it done?  And he said unto me:  Because of thy faith in Christ, whom thou hast never before heard nor seen.  And many years pass away before he shall manifest himself in the flesh…” (Enos, vs. 5-8).  Enos sought for the kind of peace that comes when one is right before God, and he received it through his faith in the promised Savior.

Joseph Smith, who had seen the resurrected Savior, felt this same kind of peace on his way to Carthage Jail when he said, “I am going like a lamb to the slaughter; but I am calm as a summer’s morning; I have a conscience void of offense towards God, and towards all men.” (D&C 135:4)

There is another kind of peace of mind that the Savior gives to us during our times of sorrow and trial:  “I will not leave you comfortless:  I will come to you…Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you.  Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.” (John 14:18 & 27)  When Longfellow wrote his poem, his heart was most likely troubled, not only over his son’s injuries and the war, but also over other circumstances in his life.  He had lost his first wife, Mary, years earlier when she miscarried in her sixth month of pregnancy.  He remarried and had five children with his second wife, Frances, called Fannie.  One of those children, Fannie’s namesake, died when she was only 17 months old.  Then, in 1861, the year the Civil War broke out, his wife Fannie was cooking when her dress caught fire.  Henry was burned trying to extinguish the flames, but Fannie was quickly engulfed and she burned to death.  Surely, he had reason to feel despair, but instead he wrote, “God is not dead, nor doth he sleep.”

Let’s go back now to the story of Enos.  After the Lord tells Enos his sins are forgiven he says, “…wherefore, go to, thy faith hath made thee whole.” (Enos, v.8)  Enos had received his own personal peace, but as we read on, we see that he isn’t satisfied to leave it at that.  “Now it came to pass that when I had heard these words I began to feel a desire for the welfare of my brethren, the Nephites; wherefore, I did pour out my whole soul unto God for them.” (Enos, v. 9)  Enos wants the circle of peace to be expanded to include his brethren—his family, his community—those he feels an affinity with.  What parent of young children or teenagers doesn’t wish for a little “peace and quiet” in the home or on a long road trip?  What bishop doesn’t feel sad when he sees ward members who refuse to speak to each other?  Who doesn’t get tired of negative political campaigns and ranting talk show hosts, religious and racial intolerance and divisiveness in this, the “United” States? 

Where can we find peace within our families and communities?  Again, we can turn to the Savior for help.  In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus tells us how to feel peace with our brethren:  “Therefore if thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there rememberest that thy brother hath ought against thee; Leave there thy gift before the altar, and go thy way; first be reconciled to thy brother, and then come and offer thy gift.” (Matthew 5:23-24)  We “come to the altar” every week when we partake of the Sacrament.  To feel the peace promised by the Savior there, we must strive to forgive each other of our weaknesses—in our families, among our church brothers and sisters, and among all those we come into contact with.  There can be much to divide us in all of these relationships—personality differences, political differences, racial and ethnic differences, religious differences.  There is no peace in divisiveness, and so we not only need to forgive each other of offenses, but we also need to learn tolerance, and even charity toward those who are different from us.  One of my favorite Christmas stories tells of such charity.  It is told by the Mormon poet, Emma Lou Thayne, about her fellow church member and friend, Jan Cook.  Jan’s husband’s work brought them and their three children to Africa, where they lived for three years.  There were no members of the church anywhere near.  [Read story, p. 19 in Making Peace, by Eugene England]:

By their third Christmas, Jan was very homesick.  She confessed this to a good friend, a Mennonite; Jan told her how she missed her own people, their traditions, even snow.  Her friend sympathized and invited her to go with her in a month to the Christmas services being held in the only Protestant church in the area, saying that there would be a reunion there of all the Mennonite missionaries on the continent.

It took some talking for Jan to persuade her husband, but there they were being swept genially to the front of the small chapel.  It felt good, being in on Christmas in a church again.  The minister gave a valuable sermon on Christ; the congregation sang familiar carols with great vitality.  Then, at the very end of the meeting, a choir of Mennonite missionaries from all over Africa rose from their benches and made their way to stand just in front of Jan and her family.  Without a word, they began singing.  Without a leader, without music, without text, they sang, “Come, Come Ye Saints.”  Every verse.

Disbelieving, totally taken by surprise, Jan and her husband drenched the fronts of their Sunday best with being carried home on Christmas…When they finished, Jan’s friend said simply, “For you.  Our gift.”

Jan’s Mennonite friend had sent to Salt Lake City for the music to the hymn that she knew Jan loved, had had it duplicated and distributed to every Mennonite missionary in Africa;  they in turn had learned it very carefully to bring the spirit of Christ to their own reunion where foreigners to their faith would be waiting to hear.”      

Let’s make one last visit to the Book of Enos to see how far this circle of peace can expand.  After praying for his own people, the Nephites, Enos declares, “…my faith began to be unshaken in the Lord; and I prayed unto him with many long strugglings for my brethren, the Lamanites.”  (Enos, v. 11)  The Lord promises him that the records will be preserved to be brought forth at some future day for the salvation of the Lamanites.  Only then does Enos say, “And I, Enos, knew it would be according to the covenant which he had made; wherefore my soul did rest.” (Enos, v. 17)  Enos could not rest until the promise of peace extended beyond himself, beyond his own people, to include his enemies, the Lamanites.

At the beginning of his earthly ministry, 500 years after Enos sought peace for his enemies, the Savior taught this principal at his Sermon on the Mount:  “Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbor, and hate thine enemy.  But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them which despitefully usse you, and persecute you…” (Matthew 5: 43-44)  He also taught in the same sermon, “Blessed are the peacemakers:  for they shall be called the children of God.”  (Matthew 5:9)  Is this too much to ask of us?  It’s hard enough to keep peace with those who care about us—is it really even possible with those who actually hate us and want to do us harm? 

Ask the Amish community that lately lost their young daughters to a brutal, suicidal killer in a rural one-room schoolhouse.  They were able to forgive this man and when funds poured in to help the grieving community, they turned around and gave some to the widow and children of the killer.

Ask the soldiers in the frozen mud of the trenches of WWI about the spontaneous Christmas truce of 1914.  On Christmas Eve… [Read from Internet book review of Silent Night, Holy Night: The Story of the Christmas Truce, narrated by Waltar Cronkite]:

...soldiers on both sides rose from their trenches and greeted each other in “No Man’s Land,” a field littered with barbed wire and frozen corpses.

For two days, the guns of war were silent as men who had shot at each other only hours before, after defying officers, laid down their weapons to exchange gifts and traditions.

The truce ended, the killing resumed on orders from the generals, but for a short time the hatred had ceased, the killing had stopped—peace and good will toward men was not an impossibility.

Peace in our hearts, peace within our families and our communities, peace between nations—all come from following the example of the Prince of Peace.  Love, mercy, forgiveness, compassion, and reconciliation—all these are extended to us by Jesus Christ.  And this is how he asks us to live.  This is how peace on earth will come. 

Christmas and the Tree of Life

Christmas and the Tree of Life

Christmas Talk for Sacrament meeting December 20, 2009

I love the Christmas stories told in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke.  Luke’s gospel contains most of the story that we are familiar with, from the angel Gabriel bringing Mary the amazing news, to the heavenly hosts singing Glory to God, to the shepherds finding the newborn baby Jesus wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.  Matthew focuses on the Messianic prophecies of prophets like Isaiah, while he tells of the angel announcing Christ’s birth to Joseph and the three wise men following the brilliant new star in the east. These stories tell us something important about Jesus and his mission on earth.  The new star and the long journey of the wise men, the good news announced by angels, and the rejoicing of the heavenly hosts tell us that Christ’s birth was something truly wonderful and cosmic in scale—something that gives us reason to be full of gladness and hope.  The humble circumstances of His birth give us reason to trust Him as someone who has shared in the common lot of man, someone who understands our burdens and who would be willing to bear them for us.  These stories touch our hearts and draw us to the child who would grow up to be the Savior of the world.

I’m so glad we have these words of Matthew and Luke, but did you know that there is another place in the scriptures that sheds a different and important light on the Christmas story?  This story is found in the beginning of the Book of Mormon, in father Lehi’s famous dream, or rather, in Nephi’s vision of Lehi’s dream.  Do you remember how Lehi describes the beginning of his dream—how he travels hour after hour in a dark and dreary waste and how he prays for mercy so he can get away from that awful place?  After he prays, he notices something wonderful.  It is a tree in a large field.  Remember that Lehi is a man who has traveled many times in the barren mountains and deserts outside of Jerusalem.  To a desert traveler, a tree means an oasis with water—it means life.  What Lehi really notices about the tree is its fruit, which he describes as “desirable to make one happy.”  When he tastes the fruit, he finds that it is “sweet, above all that I ever before tasted” and “white, to exceed all the whiteness that I had ever seen,” and that “it filled my soul with exceedingly great joy”  (1 Nephi 8:10-12). 

When Nephi hears his father’s dream, he can’t stop thinking about it.  He wants to see the things his father saw, but he also wants to know what it all means.  Because Nephi has faith that the Lord can make these things known to him, his desire is granted.   “And it came to pass that the Spirit said unto me:  Look!  And I looked and beheld a tree; and it was like unto the tree which my father had seen; and the beauty thereof was far beyond, yea, exceeding of all beauty; and the whiteness thereof did exceed the whiteness of the driven snow” (1 Nephi 11:8).  Nephi recognizes the tree as “the tree which is precious above all” (v. 9). 

When Nephi desires to know the interpretation, or the meaning of the tree, an angel shows him something that doesn’t seem to belong here.  “…And I beheld the city of Nazareth; and in the city of Nazareth I beheld a virgin, and she was exceedingly fair and white…most beautiful and fair above all other virgins” (1 Nephi 11:13-15).  Then the angel asks Nephi an interesting question:  “Knowest thou the condescension of God?”  (v.16).  What the angel is asking is—Do you know how God will come down from His high and exalted place to be here on your lowly level?  Nephi answers humbly yet faithfully, “I know that he loveth his children; nevertheless, I do not know the meaning of all things” (v.17).  “And [the angel] said unto me: Behold, the virgin whom thou seest is the mother of the Son of God, after the manner of the flesh.  And it came to pass that I beheld that she was carried away in the Spirit; and after she had been carried away in the Spirit for the space of a time the angel spake unto me, saying: Look!  And I looked and beheld the virgin again, bearing a child in her arms” (v.18-20).

Aha!  Here’s another version of the Christmas story!  You were probably wondering when I was going to get to that.  Let’s keep going:  “And the angel said unto me:  Behold the Lamb of God, yea, even the Son of the Eternal Father!”  That’s how Jehovah will condescend, or come down from his place beside God, the Father to be with us.  Now comes the part that we need to listen carefully to, because it gives us a beautiful way to think about Christmas.  Remember that the angel has just shown Nephi a vision of Mary, carrying the Son of God, the baby Jesus, in her arms.  Now the angel asks the important question:  “Knowest thou the meaning of the tree which thy father saw?”  (v.21).  “And I answered him, saying:  Yea, it is the love of God, which sheddeth itself abroad in the hearts of the children of men; wherefore, it is the most desirable above all things.  And he spake unto me saying:  Yea, and the most joyous to the soul”  (v.22-23).  Nephi has realized that the tree, which he soon names the Tree of Life, is connected to the Virgin mother and her divine child, which is connected to the Love of God. 

Keep this in mind while I tell you about the Tree of Life in ancient Israelite culture.  According to Daniel Peterson, BYU professor of Islamic Studies and Arabic, ancient documents and artifacts show that at one time, the Israelites worshipped El, the Father God and Asherah, the Mother Goddess and wife of El. The worship of the Mother Goddess did not fall out of favor until after the fall of Jerusalem in 586 B.C., many years after Lehi had escaped with his family to the promised land.  Thus, Nephi may well have been aware that Asherah was considered to be the Queen of Heaven, the Virgin,, and that she was often depicted as a mother nursing her divine offspring.  She was symbolized, or represented by---the Tree of Life!  To Nephi, the connection of the virgin mother, Mary and her divine child, Jesus, to the Tree of Life in Lehi’s dream may have been a completely natural one.  In this sense, the tree represents the earthly virgin mother, and her son is the sweet fruit that she bore—the fruit that fills the soul with exceedingly great joy.  To Nephi, the Tree of Life brought to mind this very special birth, the birth we now celebrate at Christmas.  It is that birth, more than any other thing, that shows us the Love of God.

I love how Nephi sees that the love of God is like the Tree, shedding itself abroad in the hearts of the children of men.  It helps me to feel God’s love as a refuge, a place of peace.  It reminds me of my special tree that was a big part of my childhood.  I was the sixth child of eight, with parents who both worked and who weren’t the strictest of disciplinarians.  We had lots of freedom, and lots of fun, but chaos often reigned in our house.  When it got too much for me, I would climb my special tree as high as I could go.  I would find a comfortable place to sit and watch the world go by, a slight breeze swaying me gently and rustling the leaves all around me.  One person in one tree. What’s so great about the Tree of Life is that, like God’s love, it sheds itself abroad and there is enough room in and under its branches to shelter the hearts of all the children of men.

When I think of the Tree of Life in connection with the birth of Jesus and the Love of God, I can’t help but think of that beautiful statement in the Gospel of John:  “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3:16).  Perhaps this shows us another way to look at the Tree of Life.  We might see the Tree as Jesus Christ and the precious fruit as the gift of Eternal Life.  Again, it is through the Tree that God shows His love for us.  The ward choir recently sang a lovely song called “Jesus Christ, the Apple Tree.”  Let me read the words of the song:

The tree of life my soul hath seen,
Laden with fruit, and always green
The trees of nature fruitless be
Compared to Christ the apple tree.

For happiness I long have sought,
And pleasure dearly I have bought:
I missed of all; but now I see
‘Tis found in Christ the apple tree.

I’m weary with my former toil,
Here I will sit and rest awhile;
Under the shadow I will be,
Of Jesus Christ the apple tree.

This fruit doth make my soul to thrive,
It keeps my dying faith alive;
Which makes my soul in haste to be
With Jesus Christ the apple tree.

             

Do you remember when the Tree of Life first appears in the scriptures?  It is when Adam and Eve are in the Garden of Eden.   After Adam and Eve had disobeyed God and eaten from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, God cast them out of the Garden and blocked the way of the Tree of Life.  It was against God’s plan for Adam and Eve to partake of the fruit of the Tree of Life and live forever in their sins.  They needed a time of probation, a time of mortality, when they could repent and learn how to choose good instead of evil.  Now, with the coming of Christ and his atonement, the way to the Tree of Life is open once again.  The precious fruit is available to all.  Merry Christmas! 

Choose You This Day Whom You Will Serve: Growing Up and Finding God

Choose You This Day Whom You Will Serve: Growing Up and Finding God
Sharman Wilson 8/26/12 

Louisville Ward Sacrament Meeting Talk
 
Ever since I was a child in Primary, I've believed in Jesus. I loved the stories and songs I learned about him, and I wanted to belong to his kingdom. Even though he lived a long time ago in a different place, he seemed real to me. He was a real person who lived in a real place. He got hungry and tired, angry and sad. He was also God's Son, so he could heal people, know their thoughts, speak with wisdom and authority, live without sinning, and rise from the dead.  I knew he loved me.
 
God, on the other hand, was harder for me to pin down. I had friends whose God was totally different from mine, and I heard a lot of contradictory things about him, sometimes even at church. It was harder for me to relate to him than to Jesus, and sometimes I wondered if he was real.
 
At church, I learned that God is a glorious and radiant personage, the father of our spirits--our Heavenly Father who has known us and loved us forever.  It was confusing, then, to read the Old Testament in Seminary, and come upon a story in 2 Kings about a group of children making fun of the prophet Elijah's bald head. Elijah curses them in the name of the Lord and two ferocious bears come out of the woods and tear apart 42 kids. Hmmm. I found other stories that showed God doing some pretty awful things. I wasn't sure what to think about that.
 
At the same time, a lot of my school friends were learning about God in their own churches. Their teachers told them that God was a mysterious combination of three persons--the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost--merged into one substance, without body, parts, or passions; and that he created all things, including us, from nothing. Poof! My parents were chemists, and my scientific mind couldn't wrap itself around that kind of God.
 
I came upon the total opposite of that God in American History class. This was the God of the Enlightenment, the God of the Deists, that appealed to many of America's founding fathers. They often referred to this God as Providence. He is also known as the Clockmaker God because he created the universe as if it were a clock--all he had to do is wind it up and let it run itself. No miraculous interventions, no redemption or salvation needed, just let it operate by natural laws, whether physical or ethical. I prefer to call him the absent God.
 
The scariest God I encountered was in my American literature class in high school. That's when I learned about the Calvinist preacher, Jonathan Edwards. He gave a famous sermon in 1741 to a congregation in Enfield, Connecticut. This group apparently hadn't been sufficiently revived by the revivals of the Great Awakening. To get the unconverted to see their dire predicament, Edwards preached:
 
"You are...in the hands of an angry God; 'tis nothing but his mere pleasure that keeps you from being swallowed up this moment in everlasting destruction...the God that holds you over the pit of hell, much as one holds a spider, or some loathsome insect over the fire, abhors you, and is dreadfully provoked; his wrath towards you burns like fire; he looks upon you as being worthy of nothing else, but to be cast into the fire..." You might think that no one in these enlightened times believes in that mean-spirited God, but my kids can tell you how they were told they were going to hell by their "Christian" classmates.
 
You get the picture about all the different Gods there are out there. And looking at some of them, it's no wonder there are so many atheists. Still, we humans are pretty much wired to believe in the spiritual dimension of life. We have feelings and things that happen to us that cannot be explained by science or reason alone. We have spiritual writings, both ancient and modern, that resonate with us. We see the complexity and beauty of the universe. Deep down, we long for communion with a higher power that can lead us to a higher state of being. As long as we're striving for that, do the details really matter? Does it matter what path we take; what God we follow?
 
Well, it matters to the God of the Old Testament. In fact, the very first commandment God gave to Moses on Mount Sinai was "thou shalt have no other gods before me." (Exodus 20:3) The Israelites were used to the gods of the Egyptians, the gods of stone that didn't demand as much from them as this God did. They weren't having nearly as much fun with this new God in charge. Here he was, expecting them to be accountable for their actions--so many new rules they had to deal with! And these were hard rules, like not coveting your neighbor's ox! The punishments he meted out were pretty harsh, too--just look what happened to Miriam when she dissed Moses--she was struck with leprosy! Just for a little gossiping.
 
When Joshua led the next generation into the promised land, he hoped to get a more grown up response. He proclaimed, "...choose you this day whom ye will serve; whether the gods which your fathers served that were on the other side of the flood, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land ye dwell: but as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord." (Joshua 24:15) It seemed like a no-brainer to Joshua. On the one hand, you had these mute gods that asked nothing and delivered nothing, on the other, you had the powerful God who could actually speak. Yes, the thundering and lightning and smoke that came along with that could be scary, but during all those years in the wilderness, didn't he also send them manna from heaven and water from the rock? Didn't he shade them from the scorching sun by day and light the night with the pillar of fire? Didn't he deliver them from the inhabitants of the land, and give them this land of milk and honey? If he could do all that, was it too much for him to ask a little in return? The Israelites recognized how nice it was having their own private Deus ex machina ie vending machine and, for a while at least, they paid their dues.
 
It seemed to me that this God of the Israelites, though he often threatened with punishment, did not reach the level of the cruel God in Jonathan Edward's angry God speech. It was nice to have a punishing God to blame when bad things happened, like when that bear killed those kids who made fun of poor bald Elijah, but you don't have to look hard to see that the Israelite God really did have a soft spot for his people. "For a small moment have I forsaken thee; but with great mercies will I gather thee. In a little wrath I hid my face from thee for a moment; but with everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith the Lord your Redeemer." (Isaiah 54:7) I could get behind this God, but something still seemed to be missing.
 
The problem was, I couldn't quite see the point of this God creating us in the first place. What did he get out of it besides lots of frustration with his wayward creatures? What did we get out of it besides fear of his displeasure? Now, if the Clockmaker God of the Enlightenment were behind the creation, he wouldn't have bothered to stick around long enough for that stuff to happen. It would just be live and let live, but again, what higher purpose would that serve?
It just seemed so meaningless.
 
It's definitely time to bring out the New Testament. I already trust Jesus, and being God's Son, who better than Jesus to show me who God is and how he relates to me? And Jesus having lived a meaningful human life, who better than Jesus to show me what meaning my life might have? I've always been drawn to the Gospel of John, and his portrayal of God. (John 3:16) "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whoso believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." (John 3:16) Here is a God who loves us and gives us his precious Son as the way to everlasting life.
 
Another one that captures my imagination is in 1 John 3:2. "Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be: but we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is." Here is a God who not only calls us his sons (and daughters), but who tells us we shall be like him! Everlasting life as sons and daughters becoming like God. Here is definitely something to strive for, something to give our lives meaning. But it's also pretty heavy stuff. Pretty intimidating. Maybe we should take the words of the Apostle Paul to heart here: "When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man I put away childish things. For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part, but then shall I know even as also I am known." (1 Corinthians 13:11-12)
 
Have you ever noticed how often God refers to us as his children, and to himself as our Father? Do you think he wants us to remain children forever, or does he want us, at some point, to put away our childish things? Put away our gods of stone, our wrathful gods, our vending machine gods, our absent, apathetic gods, our incomprehensible, formless, passionless gods? It seems to me that he wants us to know him as well as he knows us. He is our perfect, loving Father, and he wants us to grow up to be like him.
 
When I read the books of Moses and Abraham for the first time, it finally began to make sense. Thank you, Joseph Smith, for being the conduit for these amazing revelations! When I took both books together, along with other insights of Joseph's, I got a much clearer glimpse of the God found in the Old and the New Testament. In Moses, chapter 1, Moses talks to God face to face "And the glory of God was upon Moses; therefore Moses could endure his presence." After this experience, and Moses is left to himself, he realizes that he has beheld God, not with his natural eyes, but with his spiritual eyes, "for my natural eyes could not have beheld; for I should have withered and died in his presence." (Moses 1:2, 11). Here is the glorious being I was taught about in Primary, who appears in all the pictures of Joseph Smith's first vision.

 
If this isn't marvelous enough, we learn about who we are in relation to God. As Moses is given a vision of the creation, he is shown that all things, including human beings, were created spiritually before their physical creation on earth. Then Abraham's vision takes him back further in time, where God comes down among countless intelligences. By some act of creation, these intelligences became the spirit offspring of Deity, the premortal spirit children of Heavenly Parents. One like God, the firstborn in the spirit, said, "We will go down, for there is space there, and we will take of these materials, and we will make an earth whereon these may dwell; And we will prove them herewith, to see if they will do all things whatsoever the Lord their God shall command them; and they who keep their first estate shall be added upon;...and they who keep their second estate shall have glory added upon their heads for ever and ever." (Abraham 3:22-26) All of us on earth kept our first estate by choosing to follow the plan of our Heavenly Father. So far, so good. We are now trying to keep our second estate.
 
The God revealed to us by Joseph Smith has more of a stake in our welfare than most of us could ever have imagined. When Moses saw the whole of God's creation, he asked God what purpose they were made for. God's answer is both humbling and ennobling: "For behold, this is my work and my glory--to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man." (Moses 1:39). This God does care what becomes of us. He chastens us because he loves us. He delights to bless us. Just how much he cares is shown in what I consider to be the most poignant of all our sacred writing. It is found in Moses, chapter 7, where God shows Enoch all the wicked left after Zion has been taken up to heaven. These are the wicked that will soon be swept up in the great flood. "And it came to pass that the God of heaven looked upon the residue of the people, and he wept; and Enoch bore record of it, saying: How is it that the heavens weep, and shed forth their tears as the rain upon the mountains? ...How is it that thou canst weep, seeing thou art holy, and from all eternity to all eternity?...The Lord said unto Enoch: Behold these thy brethren; they are the workmanship of mine own hands, and I gave unto them their knowledge, in the day I created them; and in the Garden of Eden, gave I unto man his agency; And unto thy brethren have I said, and also given commandment, that they should love one another, and that they should choose me, their Father; but behold, they are without affection, and they hate their own blood...Satan shall be their father, and misery shall be their doom; and the whole heavens shall weep over them...wherefore should not the heavens weep, seeing these shall suffer?" (Moses 7:28-30, 37). I love this God of body, parts, and passions. I love that my spirit and body are in the image of Heavenly Parents and they want me to have joy in fulfilling the measure of my creation. I choose to serve this God, the Mormon God.