It’s too easy to skip over. After all, what can possibly be communicated with only two words? Well, frankly, I think there’s quite a bit there we can learn about Jesus and even about ourselves.
Previous to this verse, Jesus’s friend Lazarus fell ill. His sisters, Mary and Martha, grew worried about his condition, so they sent word to Jesus. After abiding near the Jordan River for a couple of days, close to where he was baptized, Jesus left for Bethany to see Lazarus, taking his apostles with him.
When he had first received word from his friends, he knew that the sickness wasn’t serious—“This sickness is not unto death.” (v. 4)—so when he received the impression that Lazarus had died, he said that “Lazarus sleepeth; but I go, that I may awake him out of sleep.” (v. 11)
By the time he arrived, Lazarus had already been entombed for 4 days. Both Martha and Mary told him that if he had arrived sooner, perhaps Lazarus would still be alive. He tried to assure them that he wasn’t actually dead.
The fact that he knows that he could revive Lazarus provides important context to the verse, “Jesus wept.”
When Mary told him that had he been there sooner he could’ve prevented Lazarus’s death, she was weeping. The others who had been at her home to comfort her were also weeping. And when Jesus saw this, “he groaned in the spirit” (v.s 33), was troubled, then wept himself.
In response, those there to comfort Lazarus’s sisters said he wept because he loved Lazarus. Presumably, they thought he was weeping because he loved Lazarus and now he was gone—he would miss him.
And while I’m sure he did love him (as seen in verses 3 and 5), I’m not sure that was why he wept, at least not in the same way his sisters wept for him out of love.
Remember, Jesus knew that Lazarus wasn’t dead, that he only slept, or at least that he could bring him back from the dead at any point. He wasn’t weeping for the same reason many do when they lose a loved one. Lazarus’s death was temporary; Jesus knew he wouldn’t be missing him. Why would he; Lazarus would be returning shortly.
You see, it wasn’t Lazarus’s death that prompted the weeping. Otherwise, he would’ve been weeping when he arrived in Bethany, when Martha and Mary came to him, or even when he had first received word of the sickness or when the impression came that Lazarus had died.
In fact, his weeping didn’t seem to occur until he saw Mary and the others weeping. Their weeping seemed to trigger his own.
I think his weeping was not one of mourning or grief, but one of compassion and empathy. He wept not because Lazarus was dead and would be gone forever, but because others mourned that loss. He delayed resurrecting Lazarus, temporarily, to take time to weep with them in solidarity. He mourned with those who mourned (Mosiah 18:9).
And that, I believe, is the most important lesson from this story. It’s not that Jesus was so powerful that he could raise people from the dead, or that we should have sufficient faith to draw on the powers of heaven to have someone restored from death. It’s that we should be compassionate to the burdened.
To me, the idea that we should express love to others even when it’s entirely unnecessary is at the core of what Mormon called “the pure love of Christ” (Moro. 7:47).
If there ever was a moment from Jesus’s love that stands as a model for us to emulate in our actions towards others, it’s this one.
It is this example that has molded my perspective regarding those who society has disenfranchised. That perspective dictates how I respond to such things as the drug crisis, or homelessness, or even crime. It also helps guide me as a I catch my previously-held prejudices surfacing and helps me know how and why they’re now wrong.
Rather than judge those experiencing disenfranchisement as making bad choices and their experiences a consequence of their agency, as I used to—as King Bejamin counsels us not to do, in Mosiah 4:17—now I am led to sit in reflection on their circumstances, to ponder not on how they are worsening society but on how they ended up here.
Too often I see people who profess to follow Christ cast dispersions upon the downtrodden, instead of expressing compassion and empathy. Quick to decry the drug debris left in parks but slow to understand the life that led to that debris being there. Quick to label those sleeping on the street as lazy and unmotivated but slow to open up their hearts to love them in unconditional ways.
Judging others is unproductive. It makes us prideful by leading us to think we’re better than them because their “sins” are different from ours. It dehumanizes them because it forces us to see them only as the source of our inconveniences and ignore their entire life’s history, which makes them a unique person. It wastes our time because our energies are spent on checklisting all the ways others should improve their lives, which reduces the energies spent on improving our own lives.
The more our hearts are filled with the judgement we place on others, the less room there is for us to love them.
]]>After Alma, one of King Noah’s priests, was cast out from the royal court, he hid himself. While in hiding, he repented of the things he did as a member of King Noah’s court. As a way to pay restitution, he began teaching some people covertly the words of Abinadi the prophet, the same words that had changed his own heart.
He taught them about the future, about our resurrection, and about how Jesus would redeem us through his power, sufferings, and death. As people believed the words he taught in private, they would gather in a place called Mormon. This is where Alma would hide from Noah’s patrols during the day. It’s also where he would teach the people as they gathered there, presumably at night.
After several days, eventually a large number of people had gathered to hear his teachings. On one particular day, he taught them about redemption, about faith in the Lord, and about repentance. After he had finished his sermon, somehow he was able to discern that those present desired to join God’s fold.
As ye are desirous to come into the fold of God, and to be called his people, and are willing to bear one another’s burdens, . . . and are willing to mourn with those [who] mourn; and comfort those [who] stand in need of comfort . . . ; if this be the desire of your hearts, what have you against being baptized in the name of the Lord, as a witness before him that ye have entered into a covenant with him, that ye will serve him and keep his commandments, that he may pour out his Spirit more abundantly upon you?
Mosiah 18:8–10
Alma knew they were ready to be baptized once he could see within them—among other things—a desire to bear each other’s burdens, mourn with the mourning, and comfort those needing comfort. He knew that a prerequisite to being baptized was a desire to selflessly help others, and he saw that in those who had gathered to hear him teach.
And he was right. Because after he asked them this, they responded by clapping their hands for joy and confirming, “This is the desire of our hearts.”
And so it is with each of us. When we are baptized, we should have already cultivated within our own hearts a desire to selflessly help others: to bear their burdens, mourn with them, and comfort them. When we have cultivated that desire within ourselves, it’s how we know we’re ready for baptism. That desire is what prepares us for the actual covenant, which—according to Alma’s words I read earlier—is to serve Jesus and keep his commandments.
Keeping his commandments seems self-explanatory, but how do we serve Jesus, especially when he is not with us?
In his final sermon, King Benjamin taught us “that when [we] are in the service of [our] fellow beings, [we] are only in the service of [our] God.” (Mosiah 2:17). To illustrate this teaching, he asked, “if I, whom ye call your king, do labour to serve you, then ought not ye to labour to serve one another?”
In a parallel teaching on the Mount of Olives, Jesus taught his disciples the parable of the sheep and the goats, where the Son of Man shall, in the last days, separate the nations of the world as a shepherd separates their sheep from the goats. According to the parable, those counted as sheep are those who, when the King was hungry, fed him; when he was thirsty, quenched him; when he was a stranger, hosted him; when he was naked, clothed him; when he was sick, visited him; and when he was imprisoned, ministered to him.
In the parable, those counted as sheep fail to understand when it was that they did these things, asking the King,
“Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink? When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee? Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee?’
Matthew 25: 37–39
And the King in the parable, in response, assured them, “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” (v. 40) Contrastingly, he admonished those counted as goats, claiming they failed to feed him, quench him, host him, clothe him, visit him, or minister to him; and when they asked when, he likewise responded, “Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me.” (v. 45)
King Benjamin counselled us to teach our children “to love one another and to serve one another.” (Mosiah 4:15) He also counselled us to be an example to our children by “[succoring] those [who] stand in need of [our] succor . . . administer[ing] of [our] substance unto [those who] standeth in need; and . . . not suffer[ing] that the beggar putteth up his petition to [us] in vain, and turn him out to perish.” (v. 16) In parallel to the parable of the sheep and goats, King Benjamin further taught us that we “should impart of [our] substance to the poor, [everyone] according to that which [they] hath, such as feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, visiting the sick and administering to their relief, both spiritually and temporally, according to their [need].”
In the land of Mormon, where Alma taught the people, was what Mormon referred to as a “fountain of pure water” (Mosiah 18:5). It was here where Alma baptized those in attendance: about 200 people.
One of the things the gathered people desired was to come into God’s fold and to be called his people. We often equate this with baptism, that when we are baptized, we are automatically part of God’s fold and are his people. But Alma’s story seems to indicate there is more required of us before we can be part of God’s fold or be called his people.
After baptizing all these people, Alma ordained several priests, one for every 50 people who had been baptized. He instructed these priests to preach to the baptized, teaching “them concerning the things pertaining to the kingdom of God.” (v. 18) More specifically, he counselled them to teach faith in the Lord and repentance. As well, he counselled them that the group should have no contention, that “their hearts [should be] knit together in unity and in love one towards another.” (v. 21) It was only then, Mormon says, that “they became the children of God.” (v. 22)
On the day of Pentecost, when Jesus’ apostles in the Holy Land were filled with the Holy Ghost and began speaking in tongues, people gathered to hear the apostles speaking in their own language. They were confounded, amazed, and marvelled. Peter preached to them all, then invited them to repent and be baptized. Three thousand people took his invitation to heart and were baptized. After their baptism, they were taught together continually by the apostles, prayed together, broke bread together, and together saw many wonders and signs performed by the apostles.
These saints were “together” in every sense of the word. They “had all things in common”. (Act 2:44) They sold all that they had and gave it to others, according to their need. And as they continued each day, they did so with “gladness and singleness of heart”. (v. 46)
One day, Peter and John were on their way to the temple for the prayer hour. When they arrived at the temple gate, they noticed a man who could not walk and who was begging. Peter healed him, helped him up, and the man entered into the temple for prayer, walking and leaping, as well as praising God. As people coming for prayer saw this, they wondered with amazement at what took place. Peter, discerning their amazement, began preaching to them. Many of those gathered ended up being touched by Peter’s words: about 500, in fact.
Peter and John were imprisoned for their preaching. Ultimately, those who imprisoned them “let them go, finding nothing how they might punish them.” (Acts 4:21). After Peter and John returned to those who believed their words, they all praised God “with one accord” (v. 24). After they had finished praising God, the place where they had all assembled shook, and “they were all filled with the Holy Ghost” (v. 31).
The author of the book of Acts referred to these people as being “of one heart and of one soul”, so much so that none of them considered their possessions to be their own; to them, “they had all things common” (v. 32). In fact, those who did own property sold that property and brought the money from their sales to the apostles, who then distributed the collective money to everyone according to their need. (v. 35)
After Jesus left the peoples of the Americas, these people lived together in harmony. 4 Nephi teaches us that they had no contentions and that they, too—like their Old World counterparts—had all things in common. There were no rich and poor, no bond and free; “they were all made free”. (v. 3) “The love of God . . . [dwelt] in the hearts of the people.” (v. 15). There was no envy, no strife, no lying, no stealing, no killing. There were no separate peoples: “they were in one, the children of Christ”. (v. 17)
From all these examples, we clearly see that for us to be counted as God’s people, to be part of his fold, we must be united. And we cannot be united as long as inequity exists. As long as others are poor while we are not, we cannot be united. As long as others are sick while we are not, we cannot be united. As long as others mourn while we are not, we cannot be united. As long as others struggle spiritually while we are not, we cannot be united.
But how do we address this inequity? How do we feed the hungry, quench the thirsty, clothe the naked, visit the sick, minister to the imprisoned, and enrich the poor?
When visiting the Americas, Jesus taught the people gathered at Bountiful, “the works which ye have seen me do that shall ye also do” (3 Ne. 27:21). During the Last Supper, after washing his apostles’ feet, Jesus proclaimed:
“If I then, your Lord and Master, have washed your feet; ye also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have given you an example, that ye should do as I have done to you. Verily, verily, I say unto you, the servant is not greater than his lord; neither he that is sent greater than he that sent him.”
John 13:14–16
Mormon reminded us that “charity is the pure love of Christ” (Moro 7:47). During the Last Supper, Jesus commanded his apostles, “Love one another, as I have loved you.” Charity is more than just donating to the poor. Christ did more than give to the poor. To have charity is to love as Jesus did. Jesus loved unconditionally. He loved people he wasn’t supposed to love. He loved Samaritans, who he, as a Jew, was supposed to hate. He loved the leper, who he was supposed to consider unclean. He loved the adulterer, who he was supposed to declare sinful. He loved those who mocked him, who tortured him, who killed him.
For Jesus, showing love was more than just healing others.
Jesus showed love when, rather than condemn, he saw a second chance. Jesus showed love when he performed the labour of a house servant while washing his apostles’ feet. Jesus showed love when he accepted service done to him, such as when Mary of Bethany anointed his feet and washed them with her hair. Jesus showed love when he wept with those who mourned Lazarus’ death, even though he knew he was about to revive him.
If we are to serve God through serving others, and we serve others through showing love as Jesus did, how do we gain this love? King Benjamin taught:
“Remember, and always retain in remembrance, the greatness of God, and your own nothingness, and his goodness and long-suffering towards you, . . . humble yourselves even in the depths of humility, calling on the name of the Lord daily, and standing steadfastly in the faith of that which is to come. . . . And behold, I say unto you that if ye do this, ye shall . . . be filled with the love of God.”
Mosiah 4:11–12
Humility, it appears, is the key to having the love of Christ. It is only through humility that we can be selfless. And it is only through selflessness that we can develop deep, unconditional love for others.
It is only through humility that we can set aside money we would spend on frivolousness so others may have a loaf of bread. It is only through humility that we can set aside Netflix so we can help someone move. It is only through humility that we can set aside scrolling through our phone so that we can listen to the words of a broken heart. It is only through humility that we can set aside the football game so our shoulders can catch the tears of someone who has lost their faith.
Without humility, it would be impossible for us to withhold judgement from those who need our help, and judging others inhibits our ability to serve them. Consider this counsel from King Benjamin:
“Perhaps thou shalt say: The man has brought upon himself his misery; therefore I will stay my hand, and will not give unto him of my food, nor impart unto him of my substance that he may not suffer, for his punishments are just. . . . Whosoever doeth this the same hath great cause to repent; . . . are we not all beggars? Do we not all depend upon the same Being, even God, for all the substance which we have? . . . If God, who has created you, on whom you are dependent for your lives and for all that ye have and are, doth grant unto you whatsoever ye ask that is right, in faith, believing that ye shall receive, O then, how ye ought to impart of the substance that ye have one to another.”
Mosiah 4:17
For us to say of the beggar, “They’ve brought this upon themselves”, or “They’ll just spend it on drugs or alcohol”, or “They’re just lazy” positions us as judge. We compare their situation to ours: we’re prosperous because we laboured for it, we don’t struggle with addiction because we made good choices, we’re not lazy because we work hard. And if we consider our life to be better than theirs—if we consider ourselves more deserving of the bounty that God placed on the earth for all—then we lack humility and selflessness. The moment we put conditions on our charity is the moment our love is no longer unconditional. And that pride and selfishness is a stumbling block to the unity we need to be numbered in God’s flock, to be numbered among his people.
To all those who labour and are heavy laden, Jesus said, “Come unto me, . . . and I will give you rest.” He did not say, “Your heavy burden is your fault.” He said, “Take my yoke upon you.” He did not say, “Carry your own yoke.” He said, “My yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” (Matt. 11:28–30) This is literally what Alma meant when he said, “[Ye] are willing to bear one another’s burdens”. That is the example we must each follow.
To show Christlike love, we must be aware of those who are heavily burdened: those who are financially burdened, who are emotionally burdened, who are spiritually burdened. Then we must be willing to yoke ourselves to them. Because others once yoked themselves to us so that our burden may be light, we must use our easy yokes and light burdens to take the weight off the drooping, heavy shoulders of others.
In 2009, President Thomas S. Monson counselled us in General Conference:
“We are surrounded by those in need of our attention, our encouragement, our support, our comfort, our kindness?—be they family members, friends, acquaintances, or strangers. We are the Lord’s hands here upon the earth, with the mandate to serve and to lift His children. He is dependent upon each of us.”
Thomas S. Monson, “What Have I Done for Someone Today?”
May each of us develop the humility sufficient to be filled with the love of God, as King Benjamin promised. Then may each of us use that humility and love to lift others out of their darkness, not because we are better than them, but because someone once lifted us out of ours. And once all of us are out of darkness and free from heavy burdens, maybe we, too, might finally experience what it is like to have all in common, to have no bond nor free, to be of one heart and soul.
]]>Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.
This is a scripture I’ve commonly heard, particularly as a youth growing up in the church. I had always given it a superficial treatment. But when I was reading it this week, I gained a few insights I hadn’t considered before.
Take the phrase “so shine”, for example. That phrasing suggests that the way to let our light shine had been previously mentioned. Let’s look at the previous two verses:
Ye are the light of the world. A city that is set on an hill cannot be hid. Neither do men light a candle, and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick; and it giveth light unto all that are in the house.
I believe the latter half of the quote indicates the method by which we let our light so shine: on a candlestick. We don’t hide the light we have; we bring it into the open and share it, or—more specifically—we give it away.
And why do we let our light so shine? So others may see our good works and glorify God. I find the connection to our works interesting. When we share our light with others, they will notice our good works. Maybe that means that the way we let our light shine is through our good works. As we do what is right, they will see that light within is.
For some reason, I thought the end of the verse—glorifying God—was something for us to do, but I realized during this reading that this is something done by those who see our good works. In other words, we are encouraged to have works so good that they encourage those who see them to glorify God.
Is it any wonder then why Jesus taught that the two greatest commandments are to love God and love others. If we love others to the point that such love permeates our actions, speech, and even our thoughts, maybe it will prompt others to glorify God.
What do you think?
]]>That idea of watching for others not taking the sacrament got me thinking.
It’s probably something each of us has seen: someone not taking the sacrament. Perhaps, even, we have been one of those who hadn’t taken it.
When we do notice someone not partaking of the sacrament, even if unintended, what is our first impulse? Do we start wondering to ourselves about what sin it might be that this brother or sister committed? Do we find ourselves judging them?
I wonder if, maybe, we should be mindful to taking another approach. One alternative, if we happen to notice someone not taking the sacrament, is to remind ourselves that perhaps this brother or sister is struggling with something. We should remind ourselves that they’re trying. We should ask ourselves what we can do to offer a hand of support without prying. We should take note of the covenant we’re making at that exact moment to take upon ourselves Jesus’s name and find a way to mourn with those who mourn and comfort those who stand in need of comfort.
Remember, the energy we devote to judging others is energy taken away from being more like Christ.
]]>Owe no man any thing, but to love one another: for he that loveth another hath fulfilled the law.
I found this verse intriguing for a couple of reasons.
First, I liked the idea of not owing anyone anything other than loving them. This is interesting to me because it shows that we actually owe others our love, and it also shows that material things don’t matter as much as love does.
The second reason is I like the idea of each of us fulfilling the Law of Moses through loving others. Consider Matt. 22:37–40:
Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.
Even Jesus got behind the idea of loving others supersedes all other commandments.
In the Sermon on the Mount (Matt. 5:17), Jesus taught us that he came to fulfill the Law of Moses:
Think not that I am come to destroy the law, or the prophets: I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil.
The fact that all he did was motivated by love, it seems to bring a new meaning to trying to be like Jesus.
]]>I remember though, that I am so grateful for these beautiful wonderful children and one day, yes, one day, this overly energetic son and my budding pre-teen daughter (cringe), independent 3 year old and baby coming and any more who will come to us, will be all grown up and I won’t have my babies to cuddle and children to protect and nurture. That will be their job with their children. So learning to enjoy and revel in this time is vitally important. So yes, I am learning patience. At least I hope so.
]]>Just yesterday I had an epiphany.
I asked myself the following question, or rather, the following question came to my mind; Why do I love Jesus Christ? (or anyone I love, for that matter). Why do I feel humble when thinking of Him, why do I get an overwhelming sense of gratitude and love when I think about Him? Is it because of anything I have done? Is it because I feel I deserve or should be loved by Him? No.
And why do I have a desire to be better and to do what He wants me to do? Why do I strive (with limited success) to be like Him? Why do I want to be like Him?
It is because He loves me. And I don’t just think this, it is something I know and feel and am aware of on a basic level. His love for me is apparent when I feel the spirit, when I think of His life, how He lived and behaved towards people He came in contact with. This is independent of His teachings to obey the commandments. His love for me is unconditional. Remember, this is independent of His teachings to be obedient and follow the commandments. Loving me does not mean He expects less of me or will let me off the hook.
So all these things I feel and want to be are inspired by His love for me. Not for anything in myself or that I have created. This is the love that He wants us to have for others. For our husbands and wives, our parents, our children, our friends, our other family members, our acquaintances, those we have conflict with, those who are not like us, those who offend us, those who hurt us, those we have no reason to like, those who do things that annoy us. Everyone. He wants us to actually have this love so that they feel this love and are saved by it.
I understand what this love is. It isn’t the doing, it is the state of heart and mind, of truly loving, so that in our demeanor, attitude and behaviour towards others, we radiate this love. This is why people flocked to Him, why children surrounded Him. They knew His love was genuine and constant, they basked in it and wanted it. When He came to the Americas, this is why the multitude didn’t want Him to leave. This is the Spirit which cannot help but be present in the face of such love. It is a love that grows and needs no effort, because it is. It is something that is possible to attain through a lifetime of learning and growth. He has this love for all. We can at least, have this love for those around us.
This is a love I can develop over time, independent of my expectations of others, that I can come to with His help. But this is the true concept of the love of Jesus Christ.
]]>My mind has been somewhat taken up with the news of the deaths of these poor baby girls in Saskatchewan, left to freeze and die in the cold snow, in -50 degree weather, this week. My heart breaks for them, for their loved ones, including the young father who left them (and again we don’t know all the details) because in spite of the mistakes he made, in taking them out without proper clothes, and leaving them, because he wasn’t aware of all he was doing, he is suffering for the choices he made. It looks as though something precipitated this, which caused a string of ill advised choices, fueled by alcohol and stress. I am not judging either, but just feeling pain for this family and these poor babies.The comfort is that I know Heavenly Father sent his angels to hold these innocents, to bring them home and maybe maybe to take away the suffering from the cold. Maybe the cold didn’t cause them too much physical anguish? I don’t know much of what freezing to death is like, and I don’t want to find out that they suffered excruciating pain, so young as they are. Children, especially the smallest ones need and are to be protected. So many children for many different reasons are not, and I know this hurts the Lord, I don’t question why He doesn’t always interfere, because He is wiser than I am.
What I feel, as a mother (and even just as a human being) is this urgency, to protect and save the suffering babies. Right now, this is the current one in my mind, these little girls who had little protection from the elements.
I am not thinking (as I know some are) that it is just more evidence of problems on the reserves. No, it is a human problem. The choices made by the father he will regret for the rest of his life. I cannot even begin to imagine the pain and sorrow he is experiencing, and their mother as well, that because of a fight, she was not there to watch over and keep her girls safe. The tragedy just transcends all blame at that end.
I do think there is some responsibility for a government that does not regulate the sale of alcohol better. Yes, this father (and so many other alcoholics) made his own choice to purchase and consume alcohol, but evidence shows that First Nations people are genetically more prevalent to substance addiction. The government makes too much money, though to not control the purchase of alcohol or the accessibility of it, better. Do they think of the victims of alcoholism? The innocents, who because of this freedom to drink yourself into a stupor, suffer, and sometimes pay, as in this case, with their lives.
See, children have a right to be protected, to be cared for. They cannot care for themselves. If a puppy or a kitten had been left out there, that animal may have had a better chance of survival. But if an adult is at risk, then how much more are a 3 year old and a baby barely over the age of a year unable to look after themselves? Especially in the debilitating cold.
But the government does not want to lose the revenue they gain through the suffering of others. Our governments (provincial and federal) who are supposed to do their best for the citizens make poor decisions that affect the lives and well being of those who do not choose to even participate in that. These little girls were not a part of the decision their father made to drink, nor a part of the decision to sell the alcohol, to create easy access to it’s sale, to make it in the first place. Adults, people who are supposed to have the intelligence to make responsible choices designed to promote the well being and safety of those they have stewardship over, were the ones who made the decision that resulted in the suffering and death of two little girls.
All I know is that a loving Saviour held them in His arms, this I know, brought them home and ended their suffering and kept them safe and I am sure, wept tears because of His great love, not only for them, but for all involved.
]]>And if your eye be single to my glory, your whole bodies shall be filled with light, and there shall be no darkness in you; and that body which is filled with light comprehendeth all things.
Mormon tells us the following:
Wherefore, my beloved brethren, pray unto the Father with all the energy of heart, that ye may be filled with this love [that is, charity], which he hath bestowed upon all who are true followers of his Son, Jesus Christ.
Now, when I fill a glass of water, I cannot fill it with milk until it is empty again. So how can we be filled with charity when our bodies are filled with light?
]]>If ye love me, keep my commandments.
Perhaps one reason it is so popular is because it is so easy to understand. Of course, the way it is written it is an easy target for guilt-inducing leadership. I digress though.
The other day I was sharing this passage with our children at one of our supper scripture sessions, and noticed a footnote I had written in at some earlier time. It pointed to D&C 42:29:
If thou lovest me thou shalt serve me and keep all my commandments.
I found the extra expounding interesting: firstly, because serving and commandment keeping were made distinct, and secondly, because there’s more to loving Jesus than keeping the commandments. Or rather that showing our love for him is more than just keeping the commandments.
Almost immediately after sharing this scripture with the children, Mosiah 2:17 came to mind:
[When] ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God.
So not only is serving God a sign of our love for Him, but more importantly so is our serving others.
]]>