Back to the small and simple

As disciples of Christ, we talk a lot about enduring to the end and just how on earth (since heaven’s still a bit out of reach) we’re supposed to make it. I mean, it’s hard. We forget. Stuck here on an earth far from heaven, blind to where we came from and where we’re going, and even who we really are, it’s easy to get distracted by what we can see. Worldly perspectives cling to us like a film on our eyes, often without our even noticing it.

After watching myself go through cycle after cycle, hitting summits of spiritual highs and then droning along on numb, bland plains of spiritual desert, I’ve been wondering what I can do to break the cycle. The path of least resistance is down in the lowlands, the territory of the natural man. I don’t have to make any effort there — it’s easy.

But I don’t want easy. I want light. I want truth. I want my soul to harmonize with God and with reality and with the rest of the universe. And I’m willing to work for it, whatever it takes. I don’t want to waste my time sightseeing down among the foothills when God’s waiting at the top.

But I keep forgetting that. I go to sleep, as it were, stumbling along in my day-to-day routine, thinking I’m doing fine when in reality I’m drifting, listlessly wandering. Spiritually comatose, almost. It usually takes something drastic — a spiritual defibrillator — to jolt me back to my senses. But that’s not a good way to be. Far better to stick to the path and not need anything drastic.

So, after pondering this and thinking over my own experiences and noting when I’ve felt close to God and when I haven’t, I’ve found the solution staring me in the face. It’s obvious. So obvious it’s almost cliché: scriptures and prayer.

That’s how you stand your ground in holy places. That’s how you keep from losing your hold on the iron rod. That’s how you stay alive spiritually when the fires of hell are invisibly raging all about you. Scriptures — the word of God — are power. They’re light. They’re a conduit to the heavens.

And we need that. I need that. And not just once in a while, but every single day. It’s all too easy to start buying in to the philosophies of the world, to start thinking the way Babylon does. Everyone’s doing it, so it doesn’t even feel out of place. Half the time we don’t even realize we’ve assimilated it, subconsciously made it part of us. Is the world too much with us?

For me, at least, I’ve found the answer to be yes.

We get injections of “Babylonite” all the time, you know — in most of the movies we watch, in most of the books we read, in most of the music we listen to, in so much of the culture we imbibe. Some of it’s harmless. Some of it, though, is lethal, and more often than not it’s also odorless and invisible. We don’t notice it till it’s already started shredding our immune system out of operation, launching its attacks when we’re down. By then it’s almost too late — or so it feels. When Babylon has got into our system and started recombining with our spiritual DNA, before long it is us. But it doesn’t have to be that way.

And that’s where the scriptures come in. (Along with prayer, temple attendance, home/visit teaching, and everything else we do regularly in the Church.) They’re an antidote to the worldly poison that pervades everything around us.

Let me back up for a second. I don’t mean that every movie out there is evil, or that you should stop listening to music. :) But I do think — and I’ve noticed this in my own media consumption habits — that too many worldly philosophies (ideas that clash with the teachings of Christ) have gotten into me. It’s inevitable, yes, but we can try to minimize it, and we have to be providing the counterbalance of light — through the scriptures and other sources of spiritual power — or we’re toast. Blindsided by the devil and his angels, we’ll go down for sure.

Without an anchor like the scriptures to remind us how things truly are, we go floating off in relativistic neverland, at the mercy of whatever tides and eddies and undercurrents are in vogue. And all the while we think we’re safe on shore.

Summarizing this whole long post :) into a single sentence, I’d say this: we need to keep immersing ourselves in the scriptures to keep us from forgetting the spiritual reality around us — and from forgetting that it matters.

Ben,

I agree more than my current writing skills allow me to express. We (as a people) have yet to tap into the immense power that the scriptures can give. We just don’t get that the small and simple (basic and mundane) things are the ones that matter, because they will change us on every level (beginning with the small and simple levels and on up to the most profound).

The huge challenge is allowing ourselves to go back to primary. Even nursery if we can. Where we read a scripture aloud and then everyone repeats it. We talk about the words in it–what do they mean? What can we do to obey this verse?

And the thing I love about the 3 years olds that I teach is that as soon as they get the concept, they are 100% committed to living it. We talk about what choices we can make that will bring us closer to Heavenly Father, and the ones that will take us further away. And they don’t have to stop and consider which ones they want, they already know.

My one concern (and I’ve noticed this a lot lately) is that we keep teaching how it is so hard to live the gospel. We must do it, but it’s just hard. And what I truly believe is that is it easy! The Savior meant it, “My yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Of course, easy now has a new synonym in the world: without effort. And that is certainly not what He meant, or what I mean. But when we do the small, simple things, when we let go of Babylon and when we let the Lord in, life is easy. At least, a whole lot easier than constantly “kicking against the pricks” mired in confusion.

I feel so strongly about the scriptures though, and the power of prayer. We think that these are basic principles (and they are in the sense that a three year old can learn then), but the apostles of Jesus Christ use the very same scriptures and prayer that we have, and they have learned how to tap into the power they contain.

Thanks for bring this up to the front of my mind, I’ve been considering it lately and I definitely had some ideas that I’m glad to have fleshed out here.

Happy day! All is well!

Ben,
Your post has been rumbling around in my head all day–you have such a beautiful way of bringing ideas to life. I’m not quite sure how to respond, although I feel almost compelled to. I was just reading through a stack of letters I wrote to my sister my senior year of high school–her first year of college. I missed her terribly and so became her pen pal, sending off a package of letters every Monday. Anyhow, as I was reading through my 17 year old thoughts from 8 years ago, I found my testimony on almost every page. My love for the Savior, my hope for the future, my excitement for living. I was definitely a sentimental little thing, but it was real nonetheless. It made me think of what you were talking about–the ups and downs. How easily we forget, or obliviously tend to walk along thinking “all is well” while wandering listlessly (to use your words). We forget where we are going or even where we have been. I agree with you that the Sunday School answers are, of course, right. One of the themes of the Book of Mormon is to remember (”O, remember, remember my sons…”) Sometimes it feels like those ancient prophets are literally trying to out their hands on my shoulders and shake me awake-to get me to remember what I already know–and to shake off the chains that bind me down, to arise from the dust (even my own dust sometimes), and come forth out of obscurity. To get moving.

Anyhow, I think these ideas of yours have everything to do with what you have already been writing about this week (are you always this contemplative?) with how we spend our time. Of course the media influences our ability to “remember”(who we are, what we are capable of, why we are here, and on). Of course the music, books, conversations, movies, that we input will effect our spiritual and even physical well-being. Not that we should throw our hands up at it all completely–that would be foolish too–but be very selective of what we choose to take in. And, as you said, making sure the scriptures are at the top of the list of things we unfailingly fill up on.

ok. I think I am just repeating what you already said–sorry. Thanks for sharing your thoughts, they make me want to do and be better.

Bethany: Thanks for your comments. :) It does seem so much easier to just get an Alma the Younger-type experience, one fell swoop, without all of the waiting. Maybe the reason we consider the small and simple to be mundane is the impulse buying gene that got grafted into our culture in the last few decades. :) I agree completely that the yoke is easy once you really start living the gospel — that’s the beauty of it. The more you do it, the easier it is to do it.

Carly: And thanks for your comments, too. :) I’ve had a similar experience in typing up my mission journals, seeing how much I trusted in the Lord, how integral the gospel was to everything I did. I miss that. And it’s entirely my fault that it’s not quite to that level now that I’ve been home for three and a half years. Some of that has come from a slight lowering of my media standards over that time period — I was very conservative at first, but over the years I’ve wondered if I was a bit too Puritan, and so I’ve watched more of the movies kids my age are watching, read more of the books they read, and listened to more of the music they listen to. And sure, I feel like I fit in more, but I’ve noticed a definite drop in spirituality. And I think I’ll turn this thought into a full blog post sometime soon. :) (No, I’m not always this contemplative. I wish… ;))