Saturday, March 28, 2009

“Shall we not go on in so great a cause?”

I have no excuse for failing in the tasks apportioned to me (by our Father in heaven, that is). I’ll start the topic rolling with a theme drawn from Elder Featherstone, buttressed by the context in which he told it: “No matter how valid, an excuse never changes performance” (Commitment [Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1982], 39). Someone once told me that this quote meant nothing at all—I think they didn’t like the implications, intended more to motivate preparation and persistence (and probably honesty) than to condemn the anticipated falling short. Who is not challenged by God’s answer to Joseph Smith’s suffering? This is a superlative example, something I can always hold up at times when other rationales fail, inasmuch as it’s not entirely an explanation, but it should be a consolation, or at the very least a confirmation in the right. Like the Job account, it is almost “confrontational.”

The Son of Man hath descended below them all. Art thou greater than he?

Therefore, hold on thy way, and the priesthood shall remain with thee; for their bounds are set, they cannot pass. Thy days are known, and thy years shall not be numbered less; therefore, fear not what man can do, for God shall be with you forever and ever. (D&C 122:8-9)

Aside from the suffering undergone by our perfect Exemplar and Savior, to the end that we might be “left without excuse,” inasmuch as he will save “as many as” act in accordance with faith in Him (see John 1:11-12, with D&C 45:8-9), I think of the undaunted perseverance of another group. To that end, I quote one of my favorite lines: “We have been called to pass through trials many times, and I do not think we should complain, because if we had no trials we should hardly feel at home in the other world in the company of the Prophets and Apostles who were sawn asunder, crucified, etc., for the word of God and testimony of Jesus Christ” (Wilford Woodruff, JD, 23:328). Elder Maxwell helps to make this contemporary:

Actually, brothers and sisters, Jesus is already victorious in the greatest battle anyway: “In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33; emphasis added). . . .

Ironically, as the restored Church comes “out of obscurity,” what seem to be stern challenges will actually disclose further the distinctiveness of the Church (D&C 1:30). Nevertheless, matching our behavior more closely with our beliefs will bring relentless reminders about the ongoing duties of discipleship. . . .

With scriptures to anchor and reassure us, we, too, can “look unto God . . . and he will console [us] in [our] afflictions” (Jacob 3:1; emphasis added).

We, too, can be “supported under trials and troubles of every kind, yea, . . . he will still deliver [us]” (see Alma 36:3, 27; emphasis added).

For the Lord has said: “I will be in your midst” (D&C 49:27). “I will lead you along” (D&C 78:18). . . .

Whether in tranquil or turbulent times, our best source of comfort is the Comforter. . . .

Regarding trials, including of our faith and patience, there are no exemptions—only variations (see Mosiah 23:21). . . . The faithful will not be totally immune from the events on this planet. Thus the courageous attitudes of imperiled Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego are worthy of emulation. They knew that God could rescue them. “But if not,” they vowed, they would still serve God anyway (see Daniel 3:16-18). Similarly, keeping the unfashionable but imperative first and seventh commandments can reflect the courage which three young women displayed anciently; they said no with their lives (see Abraham 1:11).

Therefore, we can be troubled on every side, but nothing can really separate us from the love of Christ (see 2 Corinthians 4:8; Romans 8:35-39); worldly anxieties are not part of being “anxiously engaged” (D&C 58:27). Even so, as Peter urged, we can and should cast our cares upon the Lord, because He surely cares for us! (see 1 Peter 5:7). . . .

Unless we are filled with resolve, what will we say to the heroes and heroines of Martin’s Cove and the Sweetwater? That “we admire you, but we are reluctant to wade through our own rivers of chilling adversity”?

Brothers and sisters, by divine appointment, “these are [our] days” (Helaman 7:9), since “all things must come to pass in their time” (D&C 64:32). Moreover, though we live in a failing world, we have not been sent here to fail. (Ensign, Nov. 2002, 16-17)


In many times and ways, President Hinckley taught that we did not come to this world to fail. Something upon which I almost dwell overmuch is that in taking up the cross (Matt. 10:38-39 and 16:24, JST, and especially the daily nature of JST Luke 9:23-25) and denying ourselves all ungodliness and the things of this world, we find joy (2 Nephi 9:18). Furthermore, there's nothing startling about trials specifically and abundantly arising from adherence to God's ways (see 1 Peter 4:12-14). This subject is set off finely by Thomas a Kempis, in one of my favorite books:

Which of the saints in the world hath been without the cross and tribulation? . . .

The whole life of Christ was a cross and a martyrdom, and dost thou seek for thyself rest and joy? Thou art wrong, thou art wrong, if thou seekest aught but to suffer tribulations, for this whole mortal life is full of miseries, and set round with crosses. And the higher a man hath advanced in the spirit, the heavier crosses he will often find, because the sorrow of his banishment increaseth with the strength of his love. (The Imitation of Christ, trans. Rev. William Benham [New York: P F Collier & Son Company, 1909], 264-265)


The only part which might lack doctrinal strength is in the word “seekest,” and perhaps its sole presumption of misery. I always was a sober child in some respects—but a hilarious one in others—and I think this is often misunderstood. To this day, I continually throw my hands up in frustration when trying to describe my worldview to one of my roommates; I think the problem is that we’re operating from different definitions of peace and joy, or he at least thinks I really don’t understand what it is. Christ does not give peace as the world gives it, therefore I do not expect tranquility and ease, though the difficult spiritual path bestows peace in ways one might easily call “unspeakable and full of glory,” or indescribable. I honestly don’t find peace and joy in many of the singles social scenes that he thinks might enliven my life. ;-) Nor do I altogether avoid them in an insane, imbalanced fashion. Even Confucius grasped the necessity of the hardened mindset:

If a man remembers what is right at the sight of profit, is ready to lay down his life in the face of danger, and does not forget sentiments he has repeated all his life even when he has been in straitened circumstances for a long time, he may be said to be a complete man. (Analects, XIV.12)

What gives me unworldly pause to no end is the curious blend of the martial and the spiritual in my heritage, and to a great extent in my own personality. Is this truly a paradox, or perhaps well suited to many times and circumstances? To clarify the previous paragraph, President Benson put it so very well: “We need not solicit persecution, but neither should we remain silent in the presence of overwhelming evils, for this makes cowards of men. We should not go out of the path of duty to pick up a cross there is no need to bear, but neither should we sidestep a cross that clearly lies within the path of duty.” What sane man would rejoice in persecution for persecution’s sake? On the other hand, what God-fearing man would NOT rejoice (Acts 5:29, 41) in persecution “for righteousness’ sake” (Matt. 5:10)? This unsolicited societal rejection comes, as President Woodruff promised, not because one has sought persecution but because one has sought the gospel lifestyle, because “no man can live the celestial law without bringing upon his head persecution” (JD, 22:209).

We have been exhorted in various ways to reflect on the fact that the eyes of all generations that have gone before are upon those of this present age. Apart even from the examples of the apostles and saints of old, I think often of yet another group. How can I find any situation too difficult, when my own kindred have passed through such an ordeal before? My Huguenot ancestors, upon whom I fondly reflect, were martyrs in the truest sense of the word. This is verified by the fact that the only family member (of those captured) who recanted got to go home and did not die with the remainder. President Spencer W. Kimball explains:

Into the pattern of martyrdom comes the voluntary phase. In every instance the martyr could have saved his life by renouncing his program. . . .

Joseph Smith did not want to die. He had so much to live for, with his family, his friends, with his interest in the expanding kingdom, and he was still a young man, but though he hoped and prayed that the cup could pass, he knew it was inevitable. . . .

But martyrs do not die. They live on and on. (TSWK, 180-181)

It’s ironic that I admired the Christian martyrs years before learning of my descent from some. I have also increasingly learned that I did not overestimate my family’s commitment to principle in the past when referring to Swinsons as perpetual “minute men.” This past week I’ve examined more closely the efforts of distant cousins to expand knowledge of my father’s lineage. Their work verifies that Swinsons serve the United States out of all proportion to their numbers. (One researcher has a great picture, and attitude, that you can access by clicking here.)

I already knew that records placed William Swinson at White Plains with Washington’s army, and that he reenlisted for a lengthy period. What I did not know was that he died “while in service,” and, more importantly, information provided in a deposition placed him squarely in continuous service throughout Pennsylvania and New Jersey beginning at least as early as 1777. I cannot assert his presence in 1776, thanks to a peculiarity of the record-keeping and an innate sense of personal forbearance. Another sworn statement shows that William was in charge of provisions.

The point is that he served many years until his death, firmly establishing the Swinson tradition of being career military men. My cousins’ probing in the British Public Records Office turned up a document showing that he was among 534 North Carolina militiamen paroled on March 15, 1781, following the Battle of Guilford Courthouse. (His regular term of service had expired, but he did not stop fighting.) My direct ancestor, Richard Swinson III, who served modestly and briefly in North Carolina during the Revolution, later inherited his brother’s bounty land for war service. Hence one might say that, like so many others, William died although he had “received not the promise” (Hebrews 11:39), as the promise was not what held him to his performance!

I would consider myself blessed if in very deed my life were at the “disposal” of my coreligionists and countrymen, if in any way I could assist anyone in pursuit of the ultimate aims of life, God qualifying me for such. What’s more, I’m not exclusive in my friendship, but no one can expect to seriously date me who rebukes, stifles, or otherwise fails to appreciate this intensity. ;-) (Speaking in the direction of seeking those virtues we deem most valuable.) Our family zeal has not been diluted yet, and I won’t be the one to do it! I hold these beliefs firmly and independently, and not just by virtue of birth. Still, remember what President Hinckley said about not being a weak link in the chain....

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Checking in

I feel to apologize to anyone who has ever experienced the doorstep scene of dating with me. Don’t worry—it was at least twice as awkward for me. At no time is my height driven home to me more forcibly than at that particular moment, which has often been the reason I dread the end of a date! Anyway, one can imagine that I’m very reserved. A handshake would be a sign of respect, not that the absence of one is a sign of disrespect. Dates are subject to such a wide variety of unpredictable circumstance.

Lately I’ve been trying to describe to myself how I feel about efforts to focus. It goes something like this: I have no past but that which enriches and instructs, no present but sorrowing for the sins of the world and the acts to which this moves me, and no future but the duty to which my heart longs to be faithful.

This was truly terse, no?