As a Son, and as a Brother

For my parents, who have given me everything. 

"They do not love that do not show their love." 

- William Shakespeare 

There are revelations in life that can hit you at different times and retain its strength with every return; recently, I experienced one of these. No matter how many times I remember and forget, I am always humbled when I remember how being the oldest child is foundational to my character. 

Birth order research is spotty at best. There used to be a large corpus of studies, but most of those seem to be scientifically dubious, and new research is taking baby steps for now. But the greatest part of introspection is that it doesn't have to rely on broad pictures of generalized trends; it comes from my own experience, with my most intimate subject: me. 

There are claims that only children get more attention, more care, and maybe even more love from their parents. While time is limited, I believe that love is not. As the oldest child, I've had a unique vantage point as my family has grown. I went from being the hypothetically-favored only child, to a brother, to a leader, and now, as a married man, a bit of an outsider at times (but marriage is a topic for another day). 

And I have loved every stage of life with my family. 

My family - and me, myself - are far from perfect, but I love the ever-evolving dynamic with my siblings, and the constant friendship offered by my parents. I've learned that not everybody is friends with their parents, and I can't help but feel bad for those who aren't. My parents are some of my best friends, and they've taught me some of the most profound lessons of my life, through their examples. 

For instance, my father's almost-solemn respect for women has given me a deep, in-bred sense of the same; that women inherently deserve respect and possess value. My mother demonstrated compassion and a willingness to forgive others. Above all, they forgave me again and again, as I made mistakes ranging from negligible to heart-rending. And I pray that I give them no more reason to shed tears over me, so long as we live. 

My parents are fun, and usually relaxed. They've helped me develop a strong sense of independence and capability, which is something I kind of robbed them of when I was born; I stripped them of their independence and forced them to become more capable. I'm certain parents love all their children, but I suspect we share a special relationship, because I was born into special circumstances. I've never doubted that my parents would sacrifice anything for my well-being, because they've already given their lives to raising me, cut off in its prime. 

Astoundingly, they continue to sacrifice, as they raise my eight younger siblings. While I've lived away from home for the last two, I treasure my time with them now, as I value the time I spent growing up with the others. It's funny looking back, how little some of my interests have changed when comparing them to the games we'd play: superheroes, Star Wars, and fantasy. With young siblings, I even have the excuse of reverting to those games on occasion. I think it was playing with my younger siblings that drove my desire to tell stories, and gave me a playground for flexing it. Some stories were constantly changing as we went out day by day, such as the never-ending drama of our "Superhero School", while others were honed and repeated almost ritualistically, year after year: every fall, my oldest youngest brother and I would play through my Lord of the Rings saga, battling with fallen tree branches and our imaginations. These games help me cut my teeth on providing meaningful roles for all of the participants, crafting simple stories that were also compelling, and the joy of throwing in a dramatic twist (this was always the most fun when we'd play Star Wars: a well-timed turn to the dark side can make a trusted ally a deadly enemy, to everybody's enjoyment). 

"I don't mind no time spent to save me; just trying to be good to the people that raised me." There are some who might disapprove of my family's size, or my angel mother's decision to homeschool us. But I have never been let down by my family, and I have found that I have every tool I need in life. Those that my family didn't bequeath to me were obtained through skills my family taught me. And as I grow older, I feel a more keen desire to see them, to spend time with my siblings, and to be a part of all of their lives. The pain of missing out on small moments as they grow up is much like the pain you feel at a funeral: what if's, remember?'s, and I wish I could've seen's. 

However, unlike a funeral, my family will always be there. Even when I lay my parents to rest, they will have left an untarnished legacy in their children, and in their children's children. And best of all, I have a firm hope that family does not cease, but that our bonds can endure even death. So while I may have passed the parts of life where I focused solely on pleasing my parents, then leading my siblings in play and at-home responsibilities, I still savor our relationship, because I know that it will last, and even if it doesn't remain the same -- well, neither do we. We grow, and we rejoice in that growth. 

I think the biggest lesson being in a family has taught me is that when you give all of your heart, more comes back to you. After all, the heart's a muscle, and muscles grow the more they're exercised.  Is there any more reason for life than to love more and be loved more? 

Compassion, Pain, and Atonement

As I was perusing Tumblr the other night, I came across several quotes that I thought were insightful; a few of them dealt with topics like pain and compassion. Since reading those, my mind has been caught on one of the greatest life lessons I've learned outside of church (though it's since been reinforced there many times): that pain enables compassion and empathy. 

I don't intend to romanticize pain; I'm not arguing that "broken people are the most beautiful" or anything like that. I don't mean to single out certain individuals or experiences as having the monopoly on injury. Instead, I just want to write a few words about the idea in general, as communicated to me in a simple quote from one of my favorite characters, in one of my favorite series: 

"When people get hurt, they learn to hate. When people hurt others, they become hated, and racked with guilt. But... knowing that pain allows people to be kind. Pain allows people to grow, and how you grow is up to you!"

When I first heard this, I was struck by how poignant the sentiment is. When I was just a teenager, I focused on how it gives you a choice when faced with pain - growth, determined by you. You can grow bitter, or grow compassionate. It made me think about how no matter what I experience in life, I have the moral freedom to determine how I will grow in response to my experiences.

As I've grown older, I've learned new lessons, especially regarding what it means to be human, and our duty to our fellow beings. One new lesson I've learned is that this statement rejects the notion that humans are reactive, that we're trapped in one course of action, and everything is deterministic. It gives us a choice, when we feel pain - do we lash out, or reach out? When we experience pain, in that moment we have the choice of either using it as justification to hurt another or to use that pain as a building block of compassion. Pain allows people to be kind because pain is a universal experience; nobody will go through life without ever experiencing pain. And because pain is so essential to what it is to be human, it's something that we can all bond over.

I mentioned previously that this lesson has been reinforced time after time in my church attendance; and it turns out that it's one of the building blocks of the most significant beliefs a Christian holds: the suffering, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. He not only experienced pain in a general sense, but He thoroughly experienced each and every pain that every human being will ever experience. From the agonies of flesh when He was tortured by the Romans, to the exquisite pain of complete and total abandonment when He cried out, "Why hast thou forsaken me?" 

As human beings, we can reach out to each other and take the first steps towards understanding, because we can have compassion for others touched by pain. Jesus Christ has a complete and perfect understanding of that pain itself, and how to be saved from it. That was the purpose of His sacrifice - His atonement. To put us at one with God, by rescuing us from all things that pull us down - including those aspects of pain that continually urge us to hate and hurt others in turn. 

We can learn lessons from pain - in particular, the lesson of compassion, of humanity, and of individual growth - but we don't have to hold on to its baggage. Our older brother already took care of that, if we'll let Him remove it from our backs. 

Two Kings

AN: I made this post on Facebook about 3 years ago, when I was infatuated with both Naruto and the music of Elvis Presley.

In the series Naruto, two characters play "shogi" (you could think of it as japanese chess) and discuss whom they believe "the King" is. They mention political leaders and teachers among other things, but in the end, they decide that children, the next generation are all "the King." I believe this is very much true. The adversary targets children because he knows that if he can get them young, it'll be easier for him to drag them down and ruin their lives.
Elvis sang, "Why are children always first
To feel the pain and hurt the worst?
It's cruel but somehow,
It just don't seem right."
And it isn't right. Children shouldn't experience all of life's pain. They're not ready for it.
As siblings, parents, friends, adults, teachers, and fellow human beings we have a responsibility and duty to protect and raise the next generation! They are "the King!" They're the most important piece in the game of life, the most vital resource in the war between light and darkness.
We need to guard the youth in our lives.

Joy to the World, the Lord is Come

Author's note: This is the talk I delivered last Sunday; I was asked by the Bishopric to speak about a talk from General Conference that impressed me. As will become abundantly clear, I chose to speak about Russell M. Nelson's talk, "Joy and Spiritual Survival."

Joy to the World, the Lord is Come

Austin Lynn

I hope that the Holy Ghost will be present in our minds and hearts as I discuss one of my favorite messages from last October’s General Conference. I was impressed with the powerful message that President Russell M. Nelson delivered. His remarks, entitled “Joy and Spiritual Survival,” taught with crystal clarity that joy is not only for those sunny days when finals have passed like distant storm clouds and dating is a pleasant breeze, but also for those times when anxiety is a thundering rainstorm and our umbrella of friends seems to be broken.

Indeed, President Nelson stated that “as the tragedies and travesties around us increase” the principle of joy will become more and more important to our spiritual survival, and, I would add, our spiritual growth.

I’ve noticed that lately it’s in vogue to be sad and helpless. It’s almost like Edgar Allen Poe is in charge of telling people what to think and what to feel. For instance, one popular Tumblr user said that “it became cool to define yourself by mental illness… Like, in order to be interesting or valid, you had to have some kind of it.” A Swedish film student mentioned that “this is exactly the kind of romanticizing … that a huge part of [social media] is doing. Just making it seem like – depression, suicide, this is cool. If you want to be part of the club, you gotta be insecure and unstable in some way. I’m not a fan.” Neither am I.

M ental illness is a serious topic that needs to be considered with charity and thoughtfulness, not something we should seek out and revel in. It is a disservice to those we love when we romanticize it and we fail to fully comprehend the glory of the gospel and the love of God when we believe we are unable to feel joy. In fact, some might begin to believe that it’s not right for them to feel joy in some circumstances. This is one of the Adversary’s most popular deceptions, crafted to trick is into being downtrodden, and, even more dangerously, apathetic to change.

There are those, including our common enemy, Lucifer, who would have us believe that there is no real choice involved with joy and despair. Rather, they’re just a part of who we are. You have brown hair, blue eyes, and a healthy heaping of joy just gushing out of your liver. You have blonde hair, green eyes, and nothing but cold despair pumping through your veins.

Is that really how it is? Does the world, or Satan, for that matter, ever tell it like it is?

The Gospel of Jesus Christ opposes these traditions of men, with the declaration that echoes throughout eternity, and throughout each of our lives here on earth: we are that we might have joy. It is my testimony today that we can experience joy in spite of – even perhaps, to spite our circumstances.

Question from President Nelson: “How is that possible? And what must we do to claim the joy that Heavenly Father has in store for us?”

Answer, also from President Nelson, our resident joy-genius: “The joy we feel has little to do with the circumstances of our lives and everything to do with the focus of our lives.” (emphasis added)

President Nelson continues, “When the focus of our lives is on God’s plan of salvation . . . and Jesus Christ and His gospel, we can feel joy regardless of what is happening—or not happening—in our lives.”

I was intrigued by the inclusion of whatever is not happening in our lives as a barrier to joy, and was reminded of an exchange in one of my favorite musicals. One character, Penny, is trying to comfort her friend, a fine young man named Billy. She begins to say, “Everything happens,” but is cut off by Billy, who is tired of trite phrases and greeting card motivationals. “Please, don’t say, 'everything happens for a reason',” he begs. Penny, taken aback, instead tells him, “No! No, I’m just saying everything happens.” Billy dejectedly responds, “Not to me.”

Sometimes we might feel like Billy - everything happens, but not to us, as individuals. Certainly I’ve had those kinds of thoughts when it comes to scholastic awards, romantic endeavors, and creative attempts. However, just as President Nelson cautioned us, that sense of dejection comes from focusing on ourselves, and comparing ourselves to others.

When I remind myself of the splendour of God, the majesty of the Atonement – in other words, when I focus on the Lord Jesus Christ- I’m reminded of a singular truth, that President Nelson so eloquently explained: “Joy comes from and because of [Jesus Christ]. He is the source of all joy. We feel it at Christmastime when we sing, “Joy to the world, the Lord is come.” And we can feel it all year-round. For Latter-day Saints, Jesus Christ is joy!” Everything happens - and Jesus Christ’s Atonement is one thing that happened to everything single one of us. Paul taught us that “for the joy that was set before him,” Jesus “endured the cross.” (Hebrews 12:2)

In order to endure the greatest of all trials, something far beyond anything we will ever be called upon to face, Jesus Christ focused on joy. We might well ask, as President Nelson does, “what was the joy that was set before Him? Surely it included the joy of cleansing, healing, and strengthening us; the joy of paying for the sins of all who would repent; the joy of making it possible for you and me to return home—clean and worthy—to live with our Heavenly Parents and families.”

Joy provides an enduring power, a cleansing power, that mingles with our pain and sorrow, and consecrates it for our benefit. It is through learning to feel joy that our experiences become benefits, just as the Lord promised Joseph Smith in the Doctrine and Covenants’ 121^st section. When we transcend the natural man’s reaction to disappointment and tragedy, that moment, that joy is what enables us to learn and move forward, as it did for the Savior.

If we refuse to find joy in our trials, they will never become “our schoolmaster to bring us unto Christ, that we might be justified by faith,” as Paul asserted the Mosaic Law was in his day. It is joy that lets us keep going, keep hoping, and keep loving. I believe Sterling W. Sill would agree with me. He taught that the most successful lives are those who have the most worthwhile experiences, and no experience is worthwhile if it fails to increase our knowledge, or our light – in other words, if it doesn’t contribute to our intelligence, as defined by God, it’s not too important. Elder Sill said that, “The religion of Christ itself is not so much a set of ideas as it is a set of activities. The purpose of the Church is to help us translate the principles of the gospel of Christ into constructive, meaningful human experience. And everyone should work toward this end by a daily practice of thinking some uplifting thoughts, listening to some fine music, reading some stimulating literature, doing some good deeds, and having some great experiences every day.” Great experiences are experiences where joy has shown us the silver lining that is in every cloud.

We can see many examples of this in the scriptures. For instance, Alma declared that while on their mission to the apostate Zoramites, the missionaries suffered “no manner of afflictions, save it were swallowed up in the joy of Christ.” Afflictions were present, probably many, but their trials were swallowed by joy, and thus became experiences that taught and trained them, perhaps preparing them for even more diligent service during the upcoming war.

Paul mentioned that “I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content.” It is immediately following this passage of scripture that Paul famously declares, “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.” "All things" doesn't just mean moving mountains and raising the dead; God typically doesn't need too much of that from you and me. "All things" means everything, including growing from the worst moments of our lives and finding joy in both the darkest and brightest of days. That's what Heavenly Father wants from us while we're here on earth.

We come to that strengthening joy through the Savior. Jesus Christ can become a true source of joy in our lives as He becomes more than a philosopher, more than a sacrifice, more than a vehicle for our salvation. President Nelson promised that, “As our Savior becomes more and more real to us and as we plead for His joy to be given to us, our joy will increase.”

What can we do to make Jesus Christ “more real” in our lives? For me, this process has included several different activities. Heartfelt prayer and earnest scripture study are, at this point, givens. If you aren’t there yet, start today, with an honest prayer and sincere effort to spend some time perusing the scriptures. You start where you are, and the Lord will bless and lift you.

In addition to this, I have found that two resources in particular have helped to make the Savior more real to me: these are James E. Talmage’s Jesus the Christ, and the Church’s Bible Videos. Learning about the world Jesus of Nazareth lived in makes Him more real to me. I'd label this as the "by study" portion of learning.

The "by faith" part can include “by service” and “by sacrifice.” Are those not Christ-like endeavors? By faith should certainly involve pondering the Sacrament and the Sacrament Hymns.

Last week, I had a moment during the sacrament where the Lord became more real to me.  As I broke bread, I was transported back almost 2,000 years ago to an upper room in Jerusalem. It was an intimate gathering where the Son of God watched His closest friends take the first sacrament. I felt that, more than anything, he hoped that they would catch a glimpse of the sublime truths the wine and bread taught about his impending sacrifice. Christ’s Apostles partook of the same ordinance you and I partake of each week. Brothers and sisters, we are part of a noble tradition. As I watched each of you take the sacrament, for a moment I felt my heart fill with that same fervent desire, that my friends would appreciate the sacrament. In that moment of empathy, the Savior became more real to me.

In those moments when the Savior becomes “more real” to me, my heart swells, and occasionally breaks. How could it not, considering the immensity of love – charity – that Jesus Christ feels for us. When I reflect on the other moments when my heart has been full, it's almost always mixed with another emotion, usually sadness over parting or pride in somebody else. That's how joy works. It rarely comes alone. I've had a heart full of joy when saying goodbye to people I love, and I've had a heart full of joy while crying over somebody who doesn't care for me anymore. In those moments, joy was brought to me by understanding principles of the gospel. I found joy by focusing on what I could become, thanks to Jesus Christ.

In the movie Inside Out, a similar principle is taught. If you remember, at the end of the movie, Riley, the main character, had emotions that weren't one-dimensional anymore. Among other emotions, sadness, mingled with joy, was given prominent attention. It's the realization that emotions can and often are intertwined with each other that brings balance and dare I say - joy - more fully into Riley’s life and each of our own. That’s one of the secrets to how we can always be joyful – joy isn’t exclusive with happiness. It’s been known to hang out with grief, and I have it on good authority that joy and tranquility are quite good pals. Joy’s a bit of a social butterfly; it doesn’t pick and choose only a few friends.

In Psalms, it is written: “I have set the Lord always before me: because he is at my right hand, I shall not be moved. … In [His] presence is fullness of joy.” Wherever we may be, whether it’s the best of times or the worst of times, we can place the Lord in our lives, and find joy in His presence. Nephi promised us that “the saints. . . who have believed in the Holy One of Israel. . . shall inherit the kingdom of God. . . and their joy shall be full forever.”

On the topic of the Kingdom of God and joy, in The Great Dictator, Charlie Chaplin passionately asserted that "'the Kingdom of God is within man' - not one man nor a group of men, but in all men! In you! You, the people have the power ... the power to create happiness! You, the people, have the power to make this life free and beautiful, to make this life a wonderful adventure." We have the power to find and spread joy, thanks to and through Jesus Christ.

The Roman philosopher Horace admonished, "Whatever hour God has blessed you with, take it with grateful hand, nor postpone your joys from year to year, so that in whatever place you have been, you may say that you have lived happily."

This may be my favorite invitation of all time, and it's one I need to constantly remember. Do not postpone your joy. Nowhere are you required to be absolutely miserable throughout your trials, and there's no fine print saying that life sans trials can't be a wonderful adventure. You can be crushed with disappointment, and still reach out to our big brother Jesus Christ, and he will teach you to find the joy in your life. We can find joy in all of our experiences, by focusing on others, on the Savior, and allowing Him to use our trials to lift us higher. President Russell M. Nelson shared the following experience, recorded by Eliza Snow:

“Because of Missouri’s infamous extermination order, issued at the onset of the grueling winter of 1838, [Eliza R. Snow] and other Saints were forced to flee the state that very winter. One evening, Eliza’s family spent the night in a small log cabin used by refugee Saints. Much of the chinking between the logs had been extracted and burned for firewood by those who preceded them, so there were holes between the logs large enough for a cat to crawl through. It was bitter cold, and their food was frozen solid.

That night some 80 people huddled inside that small cabin, only 20 feet square (6.1 meters square). Most sat or stood all night trying to keep warm. Outside, a group of men spent the night gathered around a roaring fire, with some singing hymns and others roasting frozen potatoes. Eliza recorded: “Not a complaint was heard—all were cheerful, and judging from appearances, strangers would have taken us to be pleasure excursionists rather than a band of gubernatorial exiles.”

Eliza’s report of that exhausting, bone-chilling evening was strikingly optimistic. She declared: “That was a very merry night. None but saints can be happy under every circumstance.”

That’s it! Saints can be happy under every circumstance. We can feel joy even while having a bad day, a bad week, or even a bad year!”

Don't postpone your joy; it's yours for the taking. Joy to you, and to the world! The Lord has come. Let every heart prepare him, and his joy, room. I know that Jesus Christ is our Savior. He was born in Bethlehem, raised in Nazareth, and died on Calvary after suffering in Gethsemane. He rose from a garden tomb, "the first fruits of them that slept," and He ascended to the right hand of the Father. He's still there today, doing everything He can to bring us joy. He's restored His gospel, He speaks to prophets, and we have a promise that He will return, with justice and mercy for all. He will wipe all tears from our eyes and we will receive a fullness of joy in His presence.

Joy to the world, the Savior reigns

Let men their songs employ

While fields and floods

Rocks, hills and plains

Repeat the sounding joy

Repeat the sounding joy

Repeat, repeat the sounding joy

(Joy to the World)

Joy to the world, indeed - the Lord will come again. It is my prayer that until that joyful day arrives, we will remember to enjoy the joy He has already bought for each of us. Let us never postpone our joy. I leave that invitation with you, in the sacred name of Jesus Christ, amen. 

Belief vs Faith

Faith vs Belief (or, Principle vs Practice)

College kids run the special risk of reducing their faith to belief. How many people claim they "know" certain things are true, then have absolutely no actions in their life that correlate to that truth? I fear that, for too many young people, their religious education had resulted in a sophisticated world-view with little relevance to their day-to-day actions. 

This is, scripturally, the antithesis of faith. Faith is an active exertion of effort, because of our beliefs. When Jacob warned the wise that they would perish, he only stipulated that they look not to God; certainly there is a place for those who are wise to the gospel, but look not to God in their daily lives. There is no man who is so converted that he cannot depart from a faith he no longer lives.

Indeed, such folks are not so different from the ministers of Joseph Smith's day, who had a form of Godliness, but denied the power thereof. Many of those on BYU's campus have a form of Godliness. They have a deep, nuanced, and often personal understanding of Gospel fundamentals, including the nature of God, the meaning of the Atonement, and the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon; and in spite of this form, they deny its power by denying God a chance to act in their life; by denying themselves a chance to live their beliefs, and by denying the Savior devoted disciples. Remember, it was the savvy, learned Pharisees and Sadducees of Christ's day who rejected Him most vehemently. 

What can we do to avoid such tragic patterns in our lives? The simplicity of the answer is almost off-settling for would be-gospel intellectuals, but it is the truth: maintain your foundation. Look to God and live, live by every word that comes forth out of the mouth of God. Say your prayers and read your scriptures! And for heaven's sake, attend church and really try to get something out of it. If we convert our beliefs into action, then our faith will increase, and we will come to see miracles in our own lives. 

Let us avoid the pitfalls of hubris; because we all know what it's like to think, "I understand the principle, so there's little need for me to so rigidly adhere to practice." Sing a primary song. Listen to a talk. It may seem beneath your radical, free-thinking mind, but these apparently basic things will revitalize your life, they will ignite the spark of faith and bring fresh light into your life. Nobody is so wise or independent that we have no need of truth anymore. A simple question we can use to keep ourselves on track is found in Alma, Chapter 5: "If ye have felt to sing the song of redeeming love, can ye feel so now?"

What if you've already disengaged? What if you see yourself heading down this path, shackled to your own preconceived beliefs? You can stop and turn around. You are worthy of rescue from your own pride. You can find joy in returning to the light of the Lord. It is so much brighter than the feeble sparks we cast on our own. God will enlarge, ennoble, and invigorate who we are, making us more of who we are. We shouldn't be afraid of becoming somebody else if we do what others are doing in the church; truth remains truth, regardless of how many or how few practitioners it has. The gospel takes who we are, and refines, not redefines us. It transforms our weaknesses and ameliorates our strengths. It helps us be the best version of ourselves we can be. That is the power of faith. Belief on it's own is insufficient and inert; faith propels and elevates. 

Happily Ever After

Lately, I’ve fallen in love with the song, “Happily Ever After,” by the band He Is We. There’s a few lines from the song that I keep thinking about, lines that make me consider my perspective in life. 

We all want to know, how it ends.

I am guilty of this! How often I’ve wondered, “When am I going to find a girl to date?” “When will I find a job I love?” “When will I feel comfortable with the person I am, and the progress I’m making?” “Will I start a family in college?” The questions are infinite, and the curiosity, at times, painfully keen. That’s natural; it’s human, and it’s understandable. We want to know if our efforts will pay off, if our character will be appreciated, and, perhaps most importantly, if we will be loved. We’re just like the singer of this song, meekly requesting, “Skip to the ending. . . I’d like to know.” 

Can you tell me, do I end up happy?

This is the question, above all, that I think opens my mind. Have you ever asked yourself this question? It’s not a bad question. Regardless of what people may think, it’s not a question loaded with self-pity or doubt, but it’s an honest question that can lead to personal growth.

Consider the following questions:

Am I making decisions that will end in a happy life? 

Am I living joyfully? 

Do I need to change anything in my life to ensure future happiness?

Am I being reckless, or overly focused on the present?

Do I remember what I want, in the end?

I’ve thought about this question a lot lately, and I’ve come to a surprising conclusion: I know that I will end up happy. Where do I find the audacity to say such a thing? It’s not a boast centered in my personal strengths, but an acknowledgment of faith and belief in Jesus Christ. He has promised that no good thing will be withheld from those who love Christ Jesus; or in other words, those who do their best, to be their best. 

I may not know the details, but I know where I’ll end up: with my family, happy, forever. There is no greater promise than that of eternal family and eternal growth. It is the promise extended to all, if they will follow the Savior. 

So, regardless of what ever doubts I may have about myself or my circumstances, I can press forward, confident that things will work out eventually, because I have God on my side. I’ll find a girlfriend, and later, a wife! I’ll finish my education, and find a job. I’ll end up happy, no matter what happens. We are all worthy of happiness; and worthy of rescue from present circumstances. 

Happily ever after, wouldn’t you know? 

Ben-Hur, Jesus of Nazareth, and I

There is one scene in Ben-Hur that perfectly encapsulates my relationship with Christ. The Savior is bearing His cross, and, drained from the work of atoning, has begun to stumble and fall. Merciless Roman soldiers punish the Lord at each fall, adding to the sting of thorns and the bite of the lash. The work of Atonement it would seem, is agonizing beyond belief, and without a spot of relief till the bitter dregs have been drunk. 

Judah Ben-Hur has come, seeking Jesus, for aid. His mother and sister are afflicted with leprosy, and his greatest desire is to see the ones he love whole and pure again. In what was surely a sucker punch, the rabbi whom his love, a believer named Esther, swears can heal them is not teaching the word of God to the people, but is instead marching towards execution at the hands of the Romans! 

The greatest shock was yet to come. As the Redeemer of men again falls, Judah recognizes a face -- the same face that had given him the will to live, years ago. The humble carpenter of Nazareth had given Ben-Hur a drink of water as he was drug to the galley's, to live and die a slave. With one merciful action, Christ encouraged Judah Ben-Hur to continue living. And now, fate has been reversed: Ben-Hur is a free man, while the Messiah is a willing slave to the demands of Justice -- the Sanhedrin's ecclesiastical injustice, cruel Roman justice, and divine, loving justice from a God watching in agony. 

Judah shrugs off his extra clothing, telling Esther to watch over his mother and sister. Where does Judah go? He presses through the thronging crowd, he tries to break through the Roman perimeter. He goes to "do what he can," a tried and true gospel ingredient. 

If we take a step back, we'll recall that it was shortly before this montage of horror began that Mary, one of the Savior's closest friends, anointed Him. When some of the disciples complained about the use of expensive oil, Christ reprimanded them, saying, "She hath done what she could. . . . this . . . that she hath done shall be spoken of for a memorial of her." (Mark 14:8,9) Judah Ben-Hur went to do what he could, and though fictional, his actions stand as a memorial to him as well. 

Of course, we know that Judah cannot bear Christ's cross -- that duty is reserved for Joseph of Arimathea. We know that Jesus cannot be saved from His path. We even know that it is imperative that He see it through to the end, for all of us! And so it is no surprise, however painful it is, when Judah is shoved away from Christ. Judah grasps this moment as an opportunity to repay the kindness he was shown, and returns again, with a cup of water. Tragically, even this small show of tenderness cannot be allowed, as centurions knock this simple gift away, and separate Judah from Jesus once more. 

Judah, having been in a position to help, is torn away from the man who saved his life, without having done a single thing to alleviate His pain. Instead, Judah has felt the stirrings of testimony, as he watches this man, this Man he now knows must surely be much more than a mere man, because of the way He bears the ridicule, and the pain, and the bloody fate looming ahead. Even now, Judah Ben-Hur is blessed by Jesus, the Christ. 

It was Jeffrey R. Holland who reminded us that it was out "of divine necessity, [that] the supporting circle around Jesus [got] smaller and smaller and smaller," leading to the moment when, "against all odds and with none to help or uphold Him, Jesus of Nazareth, the living Son of the living God, restored physical life where death had held sway and brought joyful, spiritual redemption out of sin, hellish darkness, and despair... because Jesus walked such a long, lonely path utterly alone, we do not have to do so. His solitary journey brought great company for our little version of that path." (None Were With Him)

So often we too, like Judah Ben-Hur, wonder what we can do for the Savior, without realizing what the Lord has done, is doing, and will, with absolute certainty, do in the future, for us. It is my fervent hope that we remember that Jesus Christ "doeth not anything save it be for the benefit of the world; for he loveth the world, even that he layeth down his own life that he may draw all men unto him. Wherefore, he commandeth none that they shall not partake of his salvation." (2 Nephi 2:24) 

What can we do for a Savior so generous? Well, I've addressed this topic as it's own talk, but to put it in simple terms, I am certain that what He wants the most is our love. We may never be able to repay Him, but we can love Him, for surely He loved and loves us. In 1 John 4 it is written, "We love him because he first loved us." He loved us first, and He loves us best.  And if we love Him, we will keep His commandments, we will love our brothers and sisters, and we will love ourselves.

I believe that the Savior cherishes every attempt to give Him a drink of cool water, however successful, much like a mother appreciates her children's macaroni art. We may not be able to do what He does, but we can "[do] what [we] could," and that is all Jesus Christ will ever ask of us. I'm with you, Judah Ben-Hur. We all are -- recipients of the Savior's mercy, beneficiaries of His Atonement's justice, and disciples following His lead. It is a sure path; one that after winding through Gethsemane, Calvary, and a garden tomb, will bring each of us back to "the Father of Lights," (James 1:17) resplendent, radiant, and celestially transformed. So it will be for all those who walk the Savior's path of charity. Like Ben-Hur and his loved ones, we will find ourselves whole, healed of spiritual impurities such as bitter vengeance and self-hate. We will find ourselves lifted, to higher vistas of understanding and compassion. We will find ourselves loved, beyond anything we could ever imagine. And that, is a testimony I can bear form personal experience. At some point in our lives, we will all have to metaphorically watch the Savior bear our pains, and sorrows, and infirmities, and it is through those experiences that we learn to love, to appreciate, and to follow. We will feel in our hearts that we are truly worthy of rescue. Let us never falter in our love and discipleship, I pray in the Savior's sacred name, even that of Jesus of Nazareth.