We are commanded to "seek," "ask," and "knock;" to cry over our fields and families; to ask the Lord that we may receive the desires of our hearts. I agree with and practice all of that. But a different paradigm of receiving blessings has recently opened to my mind, and I would like to talk about it.
Our final reward will come to us "without compulsory means" (D&C 121:46). So many blessings come to us while we are otherwise engaged, not seeking them. The Midrash tells a story of Abraham, who was still denied children through his beloved Sarah. He was old and feeling ill at the time, but it was a hot day, and so he sent his faithful servant out into the inferno of the desert to look for wanderers who might be in peril. His servant found no one. He sent him out again, and went himself to look for anyone who might be in danger. He found no one, but when he got back to his tent, three heavenly visitors were there. One of the messengers then promised Abraham that he and Sarah would have a son, Isaac. Abraham's greatest desire was granted to him while he was otherwise engaged, not concerning himself with his own desires. While this account is not in the scriptures, it is true to life. Many blessings come when they are least expected.
Zachariah was performing his priestly duty in the Temple when the angel Gabriel appeared and declared that he and Elizabeth would be healed of their infertility and have a son, who grew up to be John the Baptist.
Rebekah probably was not looking for a husband when she began hauling hundreds of gallons of water to refresh the camels of Abraham's servant, but that act was a sign to him that she was meant for Isaac. Rachel was herding sheep the day Jacob saw her coming to the well—not exactly walking the red carpet, but she still attracted a suitor.
This kind of surprise blessing is common in life. Yet many of the things we pine for most fervently fail to materialize. I wonder if we can become so preoccupied and frantic with what we want that we stumble over our own feet in the attempt to get it. "The time when there is nothing at all in your soul except a cry for help may be just that time when God can't give it: you are like the drowning man who can't be helped because he clutches and grabs. Perhaps your own reiterated cries deafen you to the voice you hoped to hear" (C. S. Lewis, A Grief Observed). Can we drive off longed-for blessings by grasping at them too frantically?
Agency is the medium in which the plan of salvation is played out. It governs all interactions between intelligent entities. Compulsion is reviled by the plan, only applied when people choose their way into damnation. If we could be compelled to be loyal, our loyalty would be empty. One preacher expressed concern that Latter-day Saint preoccupation with agency, freedom to choose, might engender pride. I respond that without freedom to choose, there is no authentic humility. If we could not choose to rebel, our choice to be obedient would be as meaningless as a valentine from a robot. Yes, we can be compelled to be humble, but the willing humility is clearly preferred (see Alma 32).
We are commanded to love God first and foremost. I wonder if clutching frantically at a particular wish can make it a false god in our hearts. Our love of the thing surpasses our love for God; why should He provide us an idol? Abraham's encounter is instructive; he was deeply concerned with the well-being of his fellow man—a hypothetical fellow man, someone who might be lost in the burning wasteland, and he went seeking to rescue anyone who might be in danger. In the process of turning his heart outward, away from his own desires, the Lord saw fit to bless him with his greatest desire of all, when he was not even concerned about it. It was apparent that his hopes were not impairing his ability or willingness to serve; what harm could granting him his hopes do? On the other hand, my experience has been that setting up an idol in the heart prompts the Lord to slate it for destruction.
Perhaps griping or complaining about the absence of a particular blessing from God puts a crimp in our relationship with Him so that we cannot appropriately receive it. Our anxious clamoring might be tantamount to an unbridled passion. Would the Lord be guilty of promoting our bad attitudes and selfishness to grant such a wish? "Thy will, not mine," is the attitude we are supposed to be fostering. And saying those words without the heart behind them is not going to fool the Lord into giving us what we really want. There is no way to fake pure motives. (1Ne. 3:7 gets a lot of airtime; how often do we quote the verse before: "Therefore go, my son, and thou shalt be favored of the Lord, because thou hast not murmured.")
Consider Alma's people in captivity. They wanted deliverance as their greatest desire: "And Alma and his people...did pour out their hearts to him; and he did know the thoughts of their hearts."
But God does not deliver them immediately:
"And it came to pass that the voice of the Lord came to them in their afflictions, saying: Lift up your heads and be of good comfort, for I know of the covenant which ye have made unto me; and I will covenant with my people and deliver them out of bondage. And I will also ease the burdens which are put upon your shoulders, that even you cannot feel them upon your backs, even while you are in bondage; and this will I do that ye may stand as witnesses for me hereafter, and that ye may know of a surety that I, the Lord God, do visit my people in their afflictions."
The next verses are valuable in teaching us why the Lord puts us through trials, and why He lets us out of them:
"And now it came to pass that the burdens which were laid upon Alma and his brethren were made light; yea, the Lord did strengthen them that they could bear up their burdens with ease, and they did submit cheerfully and with patience to all the will of the Lord. And it came to pass that so great was their faith and their patience that the voice of the Lord came unto them again, saying: Be of good comfort, for on the morrow I will deliver you out of bondage" (Mosiah 24:12-16).
They were cheerful, patient, submissive, and had great faith, even though they were in bondage, the opposite of the thing they desired. The Lord did not deliver them to make them happy; He delivered them after they learned to be happy without the thing they wanted most. Or, after they showed that His promise of deliverance was sufficient to make them happy, regardless of their circumstances.
This paradox may be at the heart of why we do not receive some blessings. Grateful kids are easy to bless—who wants to be generous to jealous, impatient, whiny kids? "Verily, verily, I say unto you, ye are little children, and ye have not as yet understood how great blessings the Father hath in his own hands and prepared for you; And ye cannot bear all things now; nevertheless, be of good cheer, for I will lead you along. The kingdom is yours and the blessings thereof are yours, and the riches of eternity are yours. And he who receiveth all things with thankfulness shall be made glorious; and the things of this earth shall be added unto him, even an hundred fold, yea, more" (D&C 78:17-19).
Our final reward will come to us "without compulsory means" (D&C 121:46). So many blessings come to us while we are otherwise engaged, not seeking them. The Midrash tells a story of Abraham, who was still denied children through his beloved Sarah. He was old and feeling ill at the time, but it was a hot day, and so he sent his faithful servant out into the inferno of the desert to look for wanderers who might be in peril. His servant found no one. He sent him out again, and went himself to look for anyone who might be in danger. He found no one, but when he got back to his tent, three heavenly visitors were there. One of the messengers then promised Abraham that he and Sarah would have a son, Isaac. Abraham's greatest desire was granted to him while he was otherwise engaged, not concerning himself with his own desires. While this account is not in the scriptures, it is true to life. Many blessings come when they are least expected.
Zachariah was performing his priestly duty in the Temple when the angel Gabriel appeared and declared that he and Elizabeth would be healed of their infertility and have a son, who grew up to be John the Baptist.
Rebekah probably was not looking for a husband when she began hauling hundreds of gallons of water to refresh the camels of Abraham's servant, but that act was a sign to him that she was meant for Isaac. Rachel was herding sheep the day Jacob saw her coming to the well—not exactly walking the red carpet, but she still attracted a suitor.
This kind of surprise blessing is common in life. Yet many of the things we pine for most fervently fail to materialize. I wonder if we can become so preoccupied and frantic with what we want that we stumble over our own feet in the attempt to get it. "The time when there is nothing at all in your soul except a cry for help may be just that time when God can't give it: you are like the drowning man who can't be helped because he clutches and grabs. Perhaps your own reiterated cries deafen you to the voice you hoped to hear" (C. S. Lewis, A Grief Observed). Can we drive off longed-for blessings by grasping at them too frantically?
Agency is the medium in which the plan of salvation is played out. It governs all interactions between intelligent entities. Compulsion is reviled by the plan, only applied when people choose their way into damnation. If we could be compelled to be loyal, our loyalty would be empty. One preacher expressed concern that Latter-day Saint preoccupation with agency, freedom to choose, might engender pride. I respond that without freedom to choose, there is no authentic humility. If we could not choose to rebel, our choice to be obedient would be as meaningless as a valentine from a robot. Yes, we can be compelled to be humble, but the willing humility is clearly preferred (see Alma 32).
We are commanded to love God first and foremost. I wonder if clutching frantically at a particular wish can make it a false god in our hearts. Our love of the thing surpasses our love for God; why should He provide us an idol? Abraham's encounter is instructive; he was deeply concerned with the well-being of his fellow man—a hypothetical fellow man, someone who might be lost in the burning wasteland, and he went seeking to rescue anyone who might be in danger. In the process of turning his heart outward, away from his own desires, the Lord saw fit to bless him with his greatest desire of all, when he was not even concerned about it. It was apparent that his hopes were not impairing his ability or willingness to serve; what harm could granting him his hopes do? On the other hand, my experience has been that setting up an idol in the heart prompts the Lord to slate it for destruction.
Perhaps griping or complaining about the absence of a particular blessing from God puts a crimp in our relationship with Him so that we cannot appropriately receive it. Our anxious clamoring might be tantamount to an unbridled passion. Would the Lord be guilty of promoting our bad attitudes and selfishness to grant such a wish? "Thy will, not mine," is the attitude we are supposed to be fostering. And saying those words without the heart behind them is not going to fool the Lord into giving us what we really want. There is no way to fake pure motives. (1Ne. 3:7 gets a lot of airtime; how often do we quote the verse before: "Therefore go, my son, and thou shalt be favored of the Lord, because thou hast not murmured.")
Consider Alma's people in captivity. They wanted deliverance as their greatest desire: "And Alma and his people...did pour out their hearts to him; and he did know the thoughts of their hearts."
But God does not deliver them immediately:
"And it came to pass that the voice of the Lord came to them in their afflictions, saying: Lift up your heads and be of good comfort, for I know of the covenant which ye have made unto me; and I will covenant with my people and deliver them out of bondage. And I will also ease the burdens which are put upon your shoulders, that even you cannot feel them upon your backs, even while you are in bondage; and this will I do that ye may stand as witnesses for me hereafter, and that ye may know of a surety that I, the Lord God, do visit my people in their afflictions."
The next verses are valuable in teaching us why the Lord puts us through trials, and why He lets us out of them:
"And now it came to pass that the burdens which were laid upon Alma and his brethren were made light; yea, the Lord did strengthen them that they could bear up their burdens with ease, and they did submit cheerfully and with patience to all the will of the Lord. And it came to pass that so great was their faith and their patience that the voice of the Lord came unto them again, saying: Be of good comfort, for on the morrow I will deliver you out of bondage" (Mosiah 24:12-16).
They were cheerful, patient, submissive, and had great faith, even though they were in bondage, the opposite of the thing they desired. The Lord did not deliver them to make them happy; He delivered them after they learned to be happy without the thing they wanted most. Or, after they showed that His promise of deliverance was sufficient to make them happy, regardless of their circumstances.
This paradox may be at the heart of why we do not receive some blessings. Grateful kids are easy to bless—who wants to be generous to jealous, impatient, whiny kids? "Verily, verily, I say unto you, ye are little children, and ye have not as yet understood how great blessings the Father hath in his own hands and prepared for you; And ye cannot bear all things now; nevertheless, be of good cheer, for I will lead you along. The kingdom is yours and the blessings thereof are yours, and the riches of eternity are yours. And he who receiveth all things with thankfulness shall be made glorious; and the things of this earth shall be added unto him, even an hundred fold, yea, more" (D&C 78:17-19).
