Amusings of a Miniature Man

I’ve goofed off a bit overmuch this evening, but I think I’ve earned it. (After all, I did report to two jobs.)

I’ll claim some inspiration from William Allred’s account about the Prophet Joseph Smith, in They Knew the Prophet, 140:

“I have played ball with him many times. But it was quite a stumbling block to some. After some had found fault about it, he was preaching one day and told a story about a certain prophet who was sitting under the shade of a tree amusing himself in some way. A hunter came along and reproved him. The prophet asked the hunter if he always kept his bow strung up. ‘Oh, no,’ said he.
“‘Why not?’
“‘Because it would lose its elasticity.’
“Said the prophet: ‘It is just so with my mind. I do not want it strung up all the time.’”

This naturally reminds me of an ancient tale with similarities—whether the Prophet was utilizing it or not, telling a factual story or presenting a sort of parable, seems largely irrelevant in terms of the point he made. (Nibley explains most persuasively about the nuggets of truth we find scattered throughout the ancient world, anyway, but this is a conversation piece for another time.) At any rate, the preface to Herodotus’ account does not contain purely harmless amusements or a prophet beneath a tree:

“‘Archers,’ Amasis replied, ‘string their bows when they wish to shoot, and unstring them after use. A bow kept always strung would break, and so be useless when it was needed. It is the same with a man; anyone who was always serious, and never allowed himself a fair share of relaxation and amusement, would suddenly go off his head, or get a stroke. It is because I know this that I divide my time between duty and pleasure’” (The Histories, trans. Aubrey de Selincourt [London: Penguin Books, 1996], 150).

It is that division between duty and pleasure that befuddles so easily. I ever recall President Joseph F. Smith’s warning: “There are limits in our recreations beyond which we cannot safely go. They should be guarded in character and curtailed in frequency to avoid excess. They should not occupy all, nor even the greater part of our time; indeed, they should be made incidental to the duties and obligations of life, and never be made a controlling motive or factor in our hopes and ambitions” (GD, 320). I’m presently at something like 95/5 on that duty/pleasure scale, though I’m prepared to recreate more freely if worthy pursuits and companions presented themselves. I’m ever mindful of Elder Hales’ description: “As Latter-day Saints, we need not look like the world. We need not entertain like the world. Our personal habits should be different. Our recreation should be different. Our concern for family will be different. As we establish this distinctiveness firmly in our life's pattern, the blessings of heaven await to assist us” (Ensign, Feb. 2002, 17).

One of my greatest heroes, another president of the Church, expressed by letter to his father, the aforementioned Joseph F. Smith, “I want to be right on all things, and nothing gives me more pleasure than to learn something about the gospel,” to which his father replied, “I like your spirit” (Joseph Fielding Smith: Gospel Scholar, Prophet of God, 79). This is why I—and maybe this is just me—find it singularly romantic that his first wife wrote, “I know that you love duty far more than you do pleasure and so I have so much love and trust that I feel as though you are about as near being a perfect young man as could be” (Ibid., 95). Again, pray think only that I WANT to be like him, not that I claim to be so. I am further amused by pondering another of his experiences: “He once told of a gospel conversation he had with another elder who, exasperated by Joseph’s insistence that he was right on a point of doctrine, blurted out, ‘Joseph Fielding Smith, if you don’t repent, you’re going straight to hell.’ . . . Joseph Fielding always expressed his views calmly and precisely without heat or rancor, but with a certitude that was sometimes unsettling or annoying to those who disagreed with him, as it was in the case of this missionary companion” (Ibid., 91).

Unoriginal as it may sound, I’d like to quote Abraham Lincoln for the second time in two days, but this time from a different source:

“Young Bob Lincoln and Elmer Ellsworth, who was reading law in Lincoln's office in Springfield, were cutting up in the office, and Lincoln reproved them. Bob replied by quoting the well-known couplet:
“A little nonsense now and then
“Is relished by the wisest men.
“‘So it is,’ said Lincoln; ‘that's the difference between the wise man and a fool, who relishes it all the time’” (Emanuel Hertz, Lincoln Talks: A Biography in Anecdote [New York: Halcyon House, 1941], 113).

Which, happily enough, leads me straight back to the Prophet Joseph Smith! “For a man to be great, he must not dwell on small things, though he may enjoy them.”

Yes, mine is the mind that seeks companionship which will help me stay grounded in the important things and also relax into the enjoyable ones. And I do not trust easily enough on this point, it may well be, though it may well also be that I have a few good reasons. I’m more jovial than I imagine my outpouring of “letter of the law” suggests. Somehow for a while in high school I managed to hold the roles of class clown (not the degrading kind) and teacher’s pet at the same time. Would that I could live up to my aspirations instead of tangling things so.

But I return one more time to the challenge, again issued by the Prophet Joseph:

“How vain and trifling have been our spirits, our conferences, our councils, our meetings, our private as well as public conversations—too low, too mean, too vulgar, too condescending for the dignified characters of the called and chosen of God, according to the purposes of His will, from before the foundation of the world! We are called to hold the keys of the mysteries of those things that have been kept hid from the foundation of the world until now. . . . Let honesty, and sobriety, and candor, and solemnity, and virtue, and pureness, and meekness, and simplicity crown our heads in every place; and in fine, become as little children, without malice, guile or hypocrisy” (TJS, 399).

I double-checked its source to verify that this was addressed to the Saints at large, and not merely the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles or some such august group. Indeed, it’s a portion of the famous letter from Liberty Jail—and I highly recommend the experience of reading how the revelation fits within the text.

Why do my musings always lead from one thing to another to another to another? If I can’t at least somewhat share my heart, then I’m by all accounts a lousy writer!

Adieu for now.

P.S. This is NOT the daily quote. That’s singular and shorter. To the critique on my first post, you’re not required to load up my blog and read the musings...you’ll receive the daily quotes in due time.