A Father's Lesson Through Arthur Kane

The following is a commentary abstracted from the documentary “The New York Doll”, directed by Greg Whiteley.  The core source material for this essay is derived from that film, and any interpretations are the sole responsibility of the author.  All readers are encouraged to source that material, and judge for themselves the messages contained.

Arthur Kane’s life was full of self deprecating tragedy and disappointment, until his later years which was full of faith and hope in a loving God and in what seemed to be a hopeless cause.

In his youth, he was a founding member of a rock band which is credited for pushing the limits of conventional music – The New York Dolls.  Their dress, attitudes, and message was offensive to some, inspirational to other, and on all accounts ahead of their time by nearly a decade.  After a few albums and a taste of success, Arthur found himself no longer with the band.  Unable to remove himself from the lifestyle he had been accustom to, as well as the disappointment and jealously of other’s success in the absence of his own; his life became consumed with alcohol and drug abuse, violence, and a level of poverty from which he never fully recovered.  His story was that of stereotyped rock stars.

His story also became that of stereotyped redemption.

In 1989 he met with missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and was baptized.  His life changed as a result of the standards of the organization and the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  He cleaned up his life, and eventually began to work in the Los Angeles temple genealogy library as a Missionary.

His new found life in Mormonism, didn’t diminish his love for music.  Due to his current poverty his bass and guitars were often sitting in the pawn shop, protected in the back by his regular interest payments.  He loved the Gospel, which renewed a love for his former band mates, and brought a degree of regret and remorse for the way things were left. 

He understood the impact that their music had, and desired that after over 25 years he would somehow be able to play together again; that he would somehow correct the way things were left.  Desire for the impossible increased.  Although Arthur was content with his life, and the lot afforded to him, he often prayed, what some may consider irreverent but sincere prayers that he would again play with his band mates and that they would again get back together.  

 His prayers would seem counterintuitive to some; here is was a new man, clean, and worthy, praying for an opportunity to feel the joy of playing in his band again after two and half decades and to some degree re-entering the environment that was the genesis of all his sorrows and regrets.

Here was a man nearly 55 years of age, alone, in a small apartment in Los Angeles.  He lives a quiet life, and commutes on the bus every morning to his Missionary responsibilities at the Genealogy center at the temple.  His greatest joy, his strongest desire is that of reuniting with individuals whom he hasn’t spoken to in nearly 29 years, and going back to the mid-seventies when they were a band.  This was his life, for what can be assumed nearly 15 years; relentless desire for the impossible.

Than in 2004 a call was received from a mutual friend in the music industry.  He was hosting a rather famous festival in London and would like the New York Dolls to reunite; the rest of the band had already agreed, and all they were waiting for was Arthur.  His prayers were answered – and his opportunity arrived.

He immediately accepted, and a new level of joy, excitement, and anxiety entered his life.  With the help of some ward members, Arthur retrieved his pawned bass guitar and began practicing once again.  He acknowledged his prayers were answered, but in a way absent of truly being surprised, more in the tone which acknowledged the answers of faith.  He knew his fellow band members had not seen him since his conversion to the church, and was concerned about their impressions of him, and his new lifestyle.  He was aware that things had changed over the years; and that more than likely his reunited colleagues would not follow the same principles. 

Others close to Arthur were also concerned with his re-entry into the environments and stress which would be present; would he be able to survive spiritually in an environment which would be full of the vices which had consumed his life for so long?

The band reunion a few weeks previous to the big show took place, and the results were comforting to Arthur.  The remaining members of the band welcomed him with open arms, as a new level of maturity was expressed among all of them.  In preparation for the show the band practiced and rehearshed regularly – and new concerns were beginning to arise about Arthur’s ability to play.  He hadn’t played on stage for decades, and was a little rough around the edges.  Nevertheless the plans went forward, and the band arrived in London for the big show.

The message that the band was being reunited with Arthur brought fans out of the woodwork, and the audience was excited to see something that many of them had never been able to see before, and probably would never be able to see again. 

To say that Arthur was a phenomenal missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints through this process would be an overstatement; but to say that he was a remarkable example would be an understatement.  Despite his environment of vices, and occasional jockeying from band mates in relation to his affiliation with the Mormons, he never appeared tempted, and was ever aware of who he now was.  When jokes about the church were mentions he was always ready with a loving but accurately correcting comments in an attempt to educate those around him on the subject.  When dressing for his performance on stage he used Joseph Smith has his projected image, wearing a white shirt with frills on the chest and a long door mans coat – presumably to simulate the artists renditions of Joseph from the 1840’s.

On stage that evening, despite concerns about his skills, Arthur and his band performed wonderfully.  The fans were ecstatic, the fellow musicians of the festival were thrilled, and Arthur was on cloud nine.   This was the greatest dream he could have ever wanted come true.  There was even small talk about the band reunited for another album.

The festival eventually ended, and thrilled with the events Arthur returned to Los Angeles, woke up in his small apartment and boarded the bus for his responsibilities at the Los Angeles Temple Genealogy Library.

Twenty-two days after his return from London where the festival was held, and his triumphant return to the stage, Arthur complained of fatigue and was taken to the hospital.  Two hours after his arrival, he was diagnosed with Leukemia, and passed away that evening.

There are a few assumptions from the life of Arthur that carry little doubt.  Arthur was loved of the Lord, and he was blessed for his faithfulness.  With that said, what was Arthur blessed with?

There is little doubt that the hand of the Lord was involved in, even what the music industry would consider, the miraculous reuniting of the New York Dolls after nearly three decades.  There is little doubt that the Lord was involved in the timing of that event; the Lord knew the days of Arthur were numbered and what would bring him the greatest joy in this life.

“Thy days are known and they shall not be counted less.”

But what did the Lord bless him with?  His greatest, most genuine, and sincerely desire!

There was nothing that Arthur wanted more than that which he got, a reuniting and a redemption of his relationship with his band mates, and another moment on stage – not to consume it upon his lusts, but to enjoy it for its pleasure.

But the lesson here is in combination with what the Lord got out of it.

 Did Arthur convert a soul while he was on stage?  Probably not.

Did the church and kingdom of God expand its stakes as a result?  Most of us would doubt it.

For all known intents and purposes there was no other purpose in this blessing than to bring joy and happiness to a faithful son of God.  The Lord did this for Arthur, and for no other person, and for no other intent.

Not to minimize the Lords intent, power, or ability, but it is difficult to identify eternal courses as a result of rock concerts, unless you look into the heart of the aged bass player on stage and witness the joy in his heart as a result of his deepest desire being fulfilled.

Our Father is a father of individuals and children.  “If a child ask for a fish, will his father give him a serpent?”  He loves us with genuine care and compassion.  He cares for us, and desires us to find joy in this life and in eternal life to come.  There are times when his actions are for no other purpose but our temporal happiness – as those times also exist with our temporal parents. 

The example of Arthur Kane, is an example of how much the Lord knows and is aware of each of his children, their wants, their desires, their abilities, and the course of their live.  It is an example of what he will do for us as we seek him with sincere faith, and loving obedience.  And as with any parent, it is an example of the great joy he feels when he is able to provide joyful opportunities to his faithful children.  The story of Arthur is a story of the love of a Father for a son.

The Socially False Perception of Perfection

In the world today perfection seems to be this elusive term that can be universally applied to everything.  This can create a unique problem for members of the church when they acknowledge the path of perfection as being a principle of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. “Be ye therefore perfect” seems to hang over the heads of many members of the church, as they seek to fulfill their callings, keep a clean house, look pretty (or handsome), lose weight, keep their children humble and in line, and every other thing that the modern term for perfection can be applied to.

After all, we learn that it is a standard notion in the church that there is no commandment given where he does not provide a way for us to succeed; but there is also a small bit of sanity within our consciousness which tells us that our application of perfection may be a little too broad to be feasibly achieved.

So it seems that there is more to perfection meaning less than we currently apply it to.  The Savior was the one who told us “Be ye therefore perfect” and he is the model by which we are to follow to obtain perfection.  It therefore should be defined, not by what we mean with the term perfection, but what He means with the term; and it would be safe to say that there is no greater model than the Savior who spoke the words himself.

Even then, sometimes in attempting to learn from the Savior what perfection might mean, we have a tendency of covering his image with our filter of perfection first, before we evaluate.  We learn at a young age in Sunday School that Christ was perfect, and then apply the lessons from our elementary school definition of perfection to Christ prematurely.  It is amazing how long that blanket term of perfection can veil our image of the Savior and what he actually was.

It is through these elementary definitions of perfection, which we have already identified could not have been the intent of his command, that we perceive that we was a handsome man, well kept and groomed regularly; that he had piercing blue eyes, and that he spoke with a rich deep voice during his mortal ministry.  Now this is not to say that he didn’t have those things, but it is saying that there is no evidence that these were attributes of the Savior during his mortal ministry other than our application of our definition of perfection upon his image.

 It is this veil that we assume that perfection may mean for us being socially present and liked by all; that there is something to be shameful about not having perfect children, or that we have to achieve success in everything that we do or we are not perfect.  It is here that we acknowledge the Atonement for our sins, but fail to acknowledge his acceptance of our (temporal) failures.

Let’s evaluate some of the lies we tell ourselves about perfection through evaluating what perfection meant for the Savior throughout his mortal ministry.  To do that we first need to accept and acknowledge that he was perfect, and as perfect as any mortal man could be.  In doing that we also need to remove our application of perfection to him, and try and see what the man was really like during his test and trial of life. 

In doing this, it may first be easier to identify what Jesus was not in his mortal ministry, to help us put in perspective what we might need to be.

Physical Beauty

Jesus wasn’t particularly beautiful.  When Isaiah talks about him, and what he would look like, he describes him with, “he hath no form nor comeliness; and when we shall see him, there is no beauty that we should desire him” (Isaiah 53:2). 

There was nothing physically unique about him as an individual, he carried with him no overtly glamorous appearance.  There was nothing about his physical image that would immediate draw our attention to him.  When he appeared back in his home town, the response was not – “Oh, Jesus is back – just looking at him growing up we could tell he was going to amount to something.”  The response was “Is this not the carpenter’s son?”

Christ was a man, who lived in the Middle East in the meridian of time.  Shampoo, soap, daily showers were all things that were virtually non-existent.  Our anticipation of his physical stature to be one of beautiful flowing locks of hair, with well groomed finger nails, and perfect teeth is probably not an accurate picture.

In the perfection requested by Christ, there doesn’t seem to be physical requirements of beauty, size, or the means to be able to dress, smell, and polish up as other people do.

Socially Liked and Social Status

In today’s modern Christianity there is a temptation to desire to be liked by many, if not by everyone.  This leads to many souls seeking the approval of others, thinking that to be Christian is to be liked, and to be not liked is unchristian.

The Savior taught us through his perfect example, that to be Christian, in fact to be Christ himself, almost by definition means not to be liked by some.  Christ was the kindest and most compassionate soul that ever walked the earth, and yet he spurred the most vilest of hatred even among his own people.  He was hated, conspired against, spit upon, unappreciated (even by those who were recipients of his miraculous gifts), and eventually crucified.

Christ wasn’t perfect because he was well liked.  He was perfect because of the love he felt even for those who turned against him.  He truly manifested his own words as his life was that of turning the other cheek often, if not every day.

He also wasn’t rewarded with high social status, nor did he seek it.  The Gospels do not record anything that shall be likened to a mansion, home, or even a personal abode with which he was would retire to – let alone any indication that he would have any part of the social hierarchy.  The records actually document quite the contrary as he responded, that “the Son of Man hath not a place to rest his head.”

Perfection isn’t seen in the outward approval of others and our social status but seen on the inward emotions and tender feelings we have towards one another regardless of their personal feelings towards us. 

Supernatural Knowledge

When we grow up with the notion of perfection, and the knowledge the Christ was perfect, we can easily but unintentionally assume that Christ was born with that perfect knowledge that he now shares.  Yet, there is nothing within the scriptures that supports that assumption.

In fact, there is quite a bit of evidence to support that he wasn’t born out of the womb with the mind of God, but with a veil just as each one of use had.  But just like each one of us can, through faith and (prefect) obedience was able to receive more knowledge through the veil. 

The scriptures say that he developed grace for grace, and line upon line.  He grew and developed day by day, even within his ministry.

One of the best reflections of this reality comes out of the Gospel of Mark.  Near the early stages of his ministry the record states that he removes himself to a mountain to fast and to pray.  Almost immediately upon returning, he calls his disciples together points out twelve of them and calls them to be apostles or special witnesses – his closest companions.  The Lord had to remove himself and perform the same acts that most newly called bishops and stake presidents follow when determining who their counselors would be.  He didn’t have the whole picture at that time – to see the ending from the beginning – or his omnipresent eye.   He knew just enough to know, that he didn’t know who he would need to call, and he knew where he could get such answers.

 There is nothing that states that to be perfect we have to be the smartest in the class, graduated college, or know something (or everything) of everything.  There is not inherent intelligence required. We just have to be open to knowledge, and know where to get it.

Temporal Success in the Worlds Goals

Sometimes we forget that the checklist the world makes for us, is not the list that God looks at.

Evaluate the temporal list that was made for the Messiah – the goals that he had placed upon him by worldly expectations. 

The world expected him to free the Jews from bondage, and create a new kingdom.  It was anticipated that he would bring peace to the world, and reunite the tribes of Israel.  That he would stand supreme upon the world as King of Kings and Lord of Lords. 

Was any of this accomplished?

Yes! It was, and his followers (then and now) knew it.  But it wasn’t fulfilled in the eyes of the world.  To the rest of the world, to many of the Jews, to those who judged him, and to those who judge him today – his mortal ministry was a failure.   He didn’t free the Jews, he didn’t create a new kingdom, and he didn’t rule on a throne.  Those who looked on him, and still look on him today, cannot see the success, the power, and the compassion that he had and still has.

This is much like the trial that we all carry today.  We have a list of requirements that are thrust upon us, expectations that the world places upon each of us, for which we will never measure up entirely.  We will never perfectly succeed in the worlds goals for us, and that the demand of us for the claims of who we are.  But it was Christ who showed us that it isn’t about what the world thinks of our success or failures, it is about how we go about doing what we know is right and doing it our Father’s way, not ours, or the world’s.

Temporal Success in our Personal Goals

Even the Savior himself wasn’t 100% successful in all of his personal goals.  In fact, there is a fine line between what goals (we can assume he had) that he was successful in and what goals he wasn’t successful in.

It can be assumed that he had the goal of expressing his compassion on all who knew him; but this goal was more than likely not fulfilled as there were many who did not have the faith to be healed or to see as they needed to see.

It can be assumed that he had the goal of converting all those who came in contact with him; but this goal was not fulfilled as personal pride often got in the way and permitted people to see without seeing and hear without hearing.

I am sure that there were many personal goals within his life that he was unable to fulfill.

Yet, there were different types of goals which he was able to fulfill.

The goal of the atonement, the establishment of his church and organization, the teaching to all that would hear, the manner in which he had compassion, his faith, his virtue, his knowledge of his mission, his temperance, his patience, his brother kindness, his charity, his humility, his diligence, and his love.

The key between the two types of goals were those to which relied on the agency of others, and those to which relied only on his own actions.

Those goals which in which he “failed” at were all goals which relied on the faith, obedience, and action of others and their agency.  Yet, within these failures, we see beauty in them, as the goals themselves in their attempt to be fulfilled yielded the greatest of all experiences – and although may not have touched everyone, touched too many to conceive of.

Those goals in which he had full control over were exercised and perform with perfection.

But in this there is perfection manifested in the unfulfilled goals.  Here we learn that the pinnacle of perfection is not found in the fulfillment of personal goals, but in the perfectly executed attempt to fulfill these agency reliant goals.

The missionary who is commissioned, like the apostles of old, to go and preach the gospel to every nation baptizing them, does not achieve perfection in his work because he baptizes every soul he talks to.   He achieves perfection his is mission by perfectly attempting to fulfill that worthy goal.  His obedience, his diligence, his wiliness to love and sacrifice for other, empowers the greatest potential for success, and places the power within the agency of others – and therefore he finds perfection.  It is not in the baptismal count, but in the perfect attempt to permit others to say “Yes.”

The wife who honors her temple and marriage covenants, and seeks to have an eternal family, does not achieve perfection because their marriage last fifty years.  She achieves perfection in this things because she does everything within her power to permit that to happen, regardless of the agency of an estranged husband.  Failure is not defined by the end result, but is determined individually based upon the executed agency that reflected that goal.

The parents who seek throughout their years to raise children who perpetuate the gospel principles, yet find their children wandering in strange lands – do not fail because of the agency of their children.  They find perfection in their perfect attempt to raise them in the Lord through their years of personal and family scripture study and prayer, their regular church attendance, and their weekly family home evenings.

Perfection isn’t found in the end result, but in the perfect attempt to achieve that result.

Remember the redemption of Zion as directed by the Lord to take place in reclaiming the lost lands of Missouri.  At that conclusion of that treacherous march, the camp of Israel, despite failing, for all intents and purposes, in redeeming the land of Zion was told that their attempt was recognized and they were blessed.  This happened, not because of any success in the temporal goal, but because of their perfect attempt to fulfill the command.

What did make him perfect during his mortal ministry?

All of this begs the question, what exactly did make his mortal ministry the perfect attempt?

He perfectly tried.  He did everything within his power, and within himself to accomplish what was commanded of him, and to reach the full measure of his creation.  He constantly was worthy of the spirit, was humble to the teachings of his Father, and sought regularly to learn his will (through prayer and scripture study) – so that he could go and do.

He applied all of the principles of the gospel, and all of the ordinances.  He even applied the ones, such as baptism, which he may have warranted unnecessary.  He never sought to justify himself or the lack of action.  He sought to unselfishly uplift and edify others, and reached out to comfort those who stood in need of comfort; despite his own need of comfort at times.

The mortal perfection of Christ was in the eternal attributes he was perfectly developing while living in a temporal environment.

What makes him perfect now?

He has reached the full measure of his creation.  He is the Son of God, the Lord Omnipotent.  He has lived his mortal existence perfectly and paid the price of imperfection.  He is the Savior of the world, and has paid for it with his own blood.  He is the catalyst of the resurrection, and the life.  He is the light and life of the world, and such light that is in all things and through all things.   He is perfection now, in every sense of the word.  Unlike his mortal ministry he is not a participant in temporal conditions, cultures, and environments; but because of his mortal ministry his has full rein over all.

If we are to be perfect, how can we be?

No mortal man or woman can attain the perfection that Christ now has on their own. 

In addition to that no mortal man or woman can attain a perfect moral existence as Christ did through his perfect example, and his perfect fulfillment.  Even the ability to perfectly attempt as he did eludes our abilities.

Yet, he commands us to be perfect, even as he is.  Similarly, we learn that we are never commanded to do something that the Lord does not prepare a way for us to achieve or succeed in.

And through Christ he has prepared away.  Our perfect attempt at developing eternal attributes begins with our imperfect attempt – our failure at perfectly attempting.  And then utilizing the Atonement of Christ perfectly.  We cannot achieve perfection as he did, but we can achieve perfection as he is; because through the sincerely and consistent application of the atonement we can become perfect IN Christ. We can become as he is, because we can become a part of him, sharing in his glory, in his life, and in his perfection.  And although we don’t need to be beautiful, or inherently brilliant, or achieve all of our goals, or perfect in any temporal sense of the word, we need to be perfect in one thing: our open application of the blood of Christ in our lives - our faith, our repentance, our continued participation in the ordinances of the priesthood, and our constant development of continued eternal attributes.

Perfection is not a mortal end state of achievement, it is a state of eternally rich growth shielded in the loving and nurturing arms of the atonement of Jesus Christ.

The Vaulted Cliffs of Experience

“The scriptures are laid before thee, yea, and all things denote there is a God; yea, even the earth, and all things that are upon the face of it, yea, and its motion, yea, and also all the planets which move in their regular form do witness that there is a Supreme Creator” (Alma 30:34).

It is here that we learn that all things denote that there is a God.  Everything around us testifies to us of the existence of a Supreme Creator either through directly reflecting his relationship or through outlining principles of the plan of salvation (which He is the center of). 

The earth’s revolution around the Sun, and our constant dependence upon it for light and life, can help remind us of the brilliance of His life and light and our constant dependence upon Him.  The times and seasons as they role from Fall to Winter, than from Spring to Summer, reflects the plan in its entirety through the simple resemblance of the Fall of Adam to the death which followed and the resulting springing forth of the resurrection to a summer of rest.

 Even the cycle of vegetation reflects the plan of salvation.  Each tree that bears fruit has within itself the power to similarly produce countless fruit within the very seeds that grows within itself, yet this same fruit must fall from the tree, die, be planted and nurtured in order to do so.  Each seed bearing fruit must die to reach its full potential towards bearing countless fruit itself.

Everything in our world denotes that there is a God, and everything is designed by his watchful eye with the intention to remind us of his plan and pattern for us.  There are lessons all around us, and often in the most overlooked places.

Those who have taken basic geology courses whether in high school or college have learned about the basic weathering patterns which create natural environments which we live in.  These weathering patterns can be anything from wind erosion, water erosion, and glacier thaw which can produce hills and valleys, rivers and streams, plateaus and basins.  Generally speaking these processes are considered destructive processes.  They either remove something and move a particle of sediment, or they entirely destroy what was once present.  It can be as gentle and subtle as the rain slowly eroding a sand bed, or it can be as destructive as a volcanic eruption completely changing the face of the earth. 

Yet, it is these very destructive forces which create the most beautiful scenery on the face of the earth:  The Grand Canyon, the Alps, even the beach.  Take a moment and think of the most beautiful natural place you have ever been or would like to be.  Then take a second and consider the similarly natural forces that contributed to the beauty of that location.  Think of the moments of sheer destruction that took place to make that scene what it is today.

There is a lesson here for a pattern of our lives.

One of the most beautiful locations in the United States are the Wasatch and Rocky Mountains.  They are magnificent with their dipped valleys, their smoothed hills, and their vaulted and dramatic cliffs.  They are composed of the results of so many natural events which took place over the course of countless years and contributed to the beauty that we partake in within only moments of gazing.

The dipped valleys were created by the steady and regular freeze and thaw process of the glaciers.  The hills and rolls smoothed by the erosion of wind and rain storms over the centuries.  The vaulted cliffs created violently within split seconds of an earthquake.  These are all events contributing to what we now look at as beautiful, grand, and magnificent, but if we were present at those moments of destruction beauty would be the last thing from our minds.

Yet, this same pattern can be seen in our lives, if we are willing to look and acknowledge the grand purpose.  Like the glaciers on the mountains, we have constant pressure and molding which allows for continued steady growth; these are our day to day activities, and the regular and habitual choices that we choose to make.  Then there are moments of storms, when we see the rain clouds coming, we make our choices, and we determine how we are going to work through them – and we exercise faith in these moments acknowledging that the rain falls on the just and the unjust alike.  These are not pleasant times, but usually at the end of these moments, we look back and are grateful for the moisture, the experience, and the pleasant smoothing of our characters which were a result.

Then there are events which come on suddenly, and entirely unexpected.  These are not small things, but are devastating disasters in our lives.  These are moments that happen in a slip second, and forever change our lives.  They take place for everyone, and for everyone it is a different event with different consequences.  There is no warning, and often there is no correction or fix to the problem.  Like the earthquake which created the vaulting cliffs, these moments are terrifyingly real.

It is within these moments that the most sudden changes to our character are forged, and the landscapes of our lives are changed forever.  The terrain is never the same, and the way we navigate through life no longer seems to apply as it had before – there are new unconceivable challenges, and a very uncertain future.

This is when faith is tried, tested, and sometimes lost.  Endurance seems to fail, and strength seems to go missing.  The result of these events seems to be as varied as there are fish in the sea, and that is what makes these events so difficult.  The earth could settle after such an earthquake only within hours, or it could continue to reel and rail for weeks or months to come with aftershocks.

Yet, from these events, come the most striking results within our characters.  Like the mountains, it is out of these violent and sudden events within our lives that we create the most beautiful and magnificent features within our souls.  It is after these events that we seem to develop a deeper sense of faith, greater virtue, more knowledge, loving temperance, applied patience, brotherly kindness, godliness, increased charity, additional humility, and more determined diligence – than we otherwise would have ever been able to achieve. 

Just like our perception of the mountain changes with the grandeur of the vaulted canyon, so our perception of life changes through these events.  It can add moments of greater appreciation for the times when the earth does not reel, and we gain greater joy knowing the sorrow which life can carry.

We can be sure that if we were to ask the mountain about the event which created such beautiful cliffs which we currently admire, it would not respond that it was a joyous occasion or that it was painless because it understood the grand scheme of things.  Similarly, there are no sudden and violent events in our lives for which we are expected to entirely smile through and pretend that we enjoy being ripped apart.  But when you do look at that mountain, or that natural location, and you acknowledge to yourself that it is the destructive processes that make that location beautiful, maybe you can also look back in your own life and realize that it is those very moments within your life that had the most distinct affect upon your character and the development of who you are today. 

We are beautiful not because of the absence of trials or tribulations, but because of our endurance of them.  The mountain still stands tall, proud of its course, and what natural events it has lived through; and we stand in awe and admire it for everything that it has seen. 

The greatest mountain that still stands today, and the greatest example of this beauty is the Rock of Ages himself.  When we think on the Savior and His life, we admire His beauty because of what He did.  We see His life, and admire His steps because of His trials, His temptations, and the way He lived His life.  There can be no more violent and sudden actions than the events which took place the evening of that last Passover; the Garden, the betrayal, the trial, and the eventual crucifixion. 

Yes, the Savior knew that those events were going to take place, but as the reader reads the accounts of those events recorded in the Gospels they get a picture of something bigger.  Even the Savior himself may not of fully known exactly what was in store as he pleads that such a cup might pass from him, and eventually cries out wondering why His father had forsaken him.  These moments were moments which caused such pain, but created such beauty.  For so many readers it is these moments that the Savior became a man with pains and desires, becoming acquainted with great sorrows and grief, and yet suffering such for us, for love.  It was through these violent moments that the most beautiful of sceneries were created: the Atonement, allowing for an unconditional Resurrection, a pure gift of love, and for the faithful, an opportunity to partake in eternal glory through divine reconciliation.

No greater pain, and no greater beauty.

It is only through our trials, through the destructive processes of our lives – the consistent day to day development, the stormy days of trial, and even the violent and unexpected changes to our landscapes – that we develop the eternal attributes upon which we can stand before the Lord and be admired for what we have become, and the beauty which he has eternally emulated both in body and spirit.

The Gospel of Adoption

One thing that I always found interesting as I have attended my ward and stake meeting throughout the years is the heritage of the members of the church.  It is fascinating to listen to people tell tales of their ancestors coming across the plains, or being a decedent of Brigham Young, or their great-great grandparent meeting the Prophet Joseph Smith.  These stories have always been neat, and awe-inspiring; something that I wish I could have such a claim and tale to tell my own children, my classes, and my ward.

But I don’t.

I am the child of two converts to the church.  They loved me, and they loved the gospel – and more importantly, they tried their best to live it.  But nevertheless, every 24^th of July, there is always a tale told in sacrament meeting – glorifying the acts of the early saints (as they should be) and in some small way highlighting in my mind the fact that I have no such heritage in my own family.

It was not a devastating notion when I considered the reality that I don’t have such a heritage, but I can honestly say that it was a disappointing idea; it was something that I wished I had.

Particularly with the early saints, as member of the church, we seek to associate ourselves with them, their lives, and their faith.  There are stories in the history of the church which touch us, teach us, and make us want to be better and more committed to the gospel.  And I think at times, we have a desire to share the same blood with these saints, to call them our own, and to be one with them.

In addition to this the scholar of the gospel learns pretty candidly how much bloodlines meant to those of the ancient covenants.  There was a reason why Christ needed to come from the line of Jesse and David; there is something to be said for being born of goodly parents, and inheriting such blessings.  If this were not the case, than why worry about the line of Israel which we descend from.  The fact is that these blood lines do matter, they do mean something, and they contribute to the creation of who we are and who we can become.  And this fact at times can yield a heightened sense of disappointment that we may be the blood of first generation members of the church.

Yet, when these feelings of distance takes place from those who we admire in the gospel narratives we tend to forget the very essence of what the gospel is.  The gospel in reality is the very Gospel of Adoption, of bloodlines, of histories, and family association.  The Gospel current is that of coming into the fold of Christ and becoming one with Him.

Nearly every ordinance of the Gospel brings us closer to the blood which we long to be a part of.  The very act of Baptism makes us the blood of Abraham, and later learn through our Patriarchal Blessings that we are adopted into his family through one of the lineage of his grand children, the twelve tribes of Israel.

Consider what the Doctrine and Covenants say in relation to the ordinance of the priesthood – found in the oath and covenant.  We become the very sons (and daughters) of Moses and Aaron, and the offspring of Christ himself.  We become the very blood of these remarkable people and inherit all of the promised blessings to their posterity.  We literally become the Sons of God (Christ) in addition to becoming the Sons and Daughters of our Heavenly Father.  We can inherit (as children) all the honors, glories, and privileges that come from being children of Christ.

This gospel is the gospel of adoption. When we hear tales of Joseph Smith, Brigham Young, Parley P. Pratt, and those faithful saints who crossed the plans – we may not be in the genealogical charts in the family history museum but we have been adopted into the faith which has granted their experiences as our spiritual progenitors.  They are our heritage, and we own those experiences as much as anyone when they have touched our souls and hearts, and increased our faith.

When we participate and honor the covenants of the Lord we infuse our souls with the blood of the prophets and the righteous who have received such promises – even the blood of the Lord Jesus Christ.  And there is no greater family, no greater progenitor to have, and no better model to emulate than his love, his actions, and his warmth.

The Spiritual Muscle

The conversion process to the restored gospel can be a thrilling and riveting spiritual journey.  For each individual it is different, but for each individual they have at times felt the power and presence of the Holy Spirit.  These experiences are testimony builders, and they initially seem to propel us from one spiritual event to the next.  Our prayers become sincere, our actions become genuine, and even our regular church attendance if wrought with spiritual insights.

As life continues on, there seems to be a time when the spiritual insights begin to dwindle, and the actions of activity in the church become nothing more than actions.  There are times when we ask ourselves, questions in regarding our spirituality and where it might have gone – and for some, such questions even raise inquiries about the reality of the initial events at their conversion. 

They seem to be doing the same acts that they were doing before, but now without the same results.  They are reading their scriptures, praying, attending the temple regularly, and serving in their calling as faithfully as expected.  And yet, the same feelings that were there in the past are nowhere to be seen.  I have had people confide in me and ask, “Where did the spirit go?”

Many missionaries see this very same thing in their rankings.  When a new missionary is sent into the Missionary Training Center, they are spiritually primed.  They are then sent out to the field, and they begin to have experience after experience which testifies to them the reality of their mission.  They begin to feel the spirit constantly, and they rejoice in the converting power – not just to new members of the church but to themselves. 

But what takes place next is inevitable.  There comes a point where the missionary wakes up, goes to Zone Conference, and questions why he no longer feels that rush, that spirit, and that confirmation every day that he once felt so strongly.  This happens to every missionary in the field, and arguably to every member of the church.

Allow me to propose a hypothetical solution to this question.  I call this hypothetical because it is only theory, but the logic has potential.  And by no means do I currently propose that this is doctrine or theology – but maybe just an applicable explanation.

Let’s draw from three events in the life of Joseph Smith.

First, imagine the Sacred Grove, 1820 – the fourteen year old boy having the theophany which would change the understanding of God and man thereafter.  According to his own record at the close of this remarkable event, the next thing he remembers is regaining consciousness in the Grove.  He remember waking up on the ground, having been absolutely (as far as I can assume) physically drained from the experience. 

Second, a few years later that same boy, is visited by an angel in the night – three times.  At the conclusion of these “interviews” the boy goes about his daily duties.  Sometime in the morning, his father notices that he is physically exhausted and directs to boy to go home.  On his way home he is so exhausted, apparently more so than just by having a late night – he passes out as he tries to cross a fence. 

Third, in the upper room of a building in Kirkland, Ohio, the prophet is surround by his colleagues in the school of the prophets – when a remarkable vision is opened to Joseph and Sidney Rigdon.  The accounts of this event are remarkable, and depict both of them sharing in the same experience which we later would call Section 76 of the Doctrine and Covenants.  At the conclusion of this event, the Prophet Joseph Smith would jump out of his seat – thrilled with the experience; while Sidney Rigdon would remain in his seat, ill and physically warn out.  This is the moment, when the Prophet, noticing Sidney’s physical reactions states, “Never mind him, he is not as used to it as I am.”

These three experiences reveal something about the impact the spirit can have on our bodies, and that is that it can have a physical impact. 

When people talk about feeling the spirit that is exactly what they are referring to, feeling the spirit.  Grant it, there are many circumstances and many people, who experience the spirit in a different way, but for the most part even the most novice participant in spiritual things can say that they feel something - that there is a physical response to the influence and impact of the Holy Spirit. 

For those who are not as used to it as others, this feeling can create excitement.  It creates a sense of awareness in part of our souls (body and spirit) that we formerly were not aware was even present or possible.  We feel something where we didn’t feel something before and it makes us learn that we are more alive than we ever imagined before.  And there are times when this knowledge, in and of itself, can give use a feeling of joy – joy that there is more to life than we previously anticipated.

But there, as always, is something more to this lesson.  There is more to it than just identifying that the spirit has a physical effect upon our bodies.  As with anything physical, there is a point where the action can still take place, but the reaction goes unnoticed.  We can grow accustom to such feelings, and they no longer noticeably affect us as before.

Take into consideration the use of caffeine (the author acknowledges the crude correlation that is about to take place, but requests the open mind of the reader to learn the principle).  When someone consumes caffeine for the first time there is a surge of energy, a physical response, and a reaction that hadn’t been felt before.  As consumption becomes regular, the noticeable effects diminish over time.  Dependence is created, and the consumer no longer feels the same affects as they did before.  In this circumstance it is not that the caffeine is not being consumed, and the reactions are not taking place – the body grows insensitive to the common place chemical reactions within the body.  This usually means that the only things that will become physically noticed in this circumstance is either the increase in the consumption amount (to heighten the response) or the decrease in consumption (to reveal just how dependent the consumer really is on the ingredient).

This is a viable explanation of what might happen with the spirit.  As we gain more regular, common, and frequent contact with the spirit – we physically grow accustom to it.  We no longer respond as we once did having become dependent upon it.  In these circumstances it is not that we are not feeling the spirit, we are only feeling the same amount of spirit that we usually feel; and the only thing that may change how we feel is either an increase of the spirit, or a decrease of the spirit to reveal to us exactly how dependent upon it we have become and exactly how much it really as with us all along.

As stated earlier, this happens every day.  I believe there is someone everyday wondering why they are not feeling the spirit as they once were.  The answer isn’t that there is an absence of the spirit, but an increase in our ability to process the spirit.  This stage is a reflection of just how much the spirit is around us. 

When you question to yourself why you don’t feel the spirit as you once did, the most important question to ask is – what am I not doing?  “Is it I?”

Be honest with yourself, and evaluate what actions and steps you may be neglecting: personal scripture study, family time, temple attendance, sincere participation in the sacrament.  If all of these things are genuinely completed, it may just be that you are surrounded with the presence of the Holy Spirit, you have become dependent upon it, and you have therefore become accustom to it.

When a missionary asks himself, his companion, or his mission president, “Why don’t I feel the same as before?”  Is it that they have just become accustom to living in the light of the gospel?

The example that Joseph Smith gave us was that of the spiritual muscle; something that is impacted through the experiences of the Holy Spirit.  And although it may begin weak at first, it can grow stronger and stronger, brighter and brighter, until the perfect day.  And as with any muscle the more it grows, the less it is impacted with the former exercises.

"Lord, Is it I?" (Part One)

One of the most unique moments in the gospels, that sheds light on the reality of the human condition, takes places at the famous last supper.  This is a sacred moment in the history of all Christianity, where the powers of heaven and the theology of the atonement fully begin to be made aware to the apostles which would later preach it, teach it, and administer the sacrament. 

Yet, there is a moment in that event that opens the door to also understanding the nature of the human condition.

It is not a coincidence that at the same event upon which the Savior breaks bread, and serves wine – that he acknowledges the forth coming act of betrayal that would lead to his broken body and split blood – the very body and blood that was being symbolized on that very table.  It was a fitting place to make apparent the required end of his loving mortal ministry – and he does so while sitting at the table with the very soul that would perform such treachery.  There is no greater sign to loving your enemy, turning the other cheek, and giving your cloak also – than supping with the man whom you know will be the catalyst of the most grievance and infamous act of betrayal throughout all human history. It is here that the publicans became prophets, for he truly supped with sinners – even the most vile.

 But for me the moment that reflects honest human nature comes from the apostles themselves when they learn of the upcoming events.  Here in the surroundings of his most trusted friends and associates the Savior motions to them and states that one of them in that room will perform a very act of betrayal that will deliver him up to the very acts which he has prophesied will happen.  In this conversation, he performs another act of mercy by not specifically fingering out the culprit – which act would have undoubtedly resulted in the betrayer’s death.  But in not identifying beyond doubt who it was that was to perform such a treacherous act, he provided an opportunity for learning for the apostles and all of us.

The moment of honest introspection comes at this very moment, when each of the apostles looks at the Savior and asks, “Lord, Is it I?”  There is so much within those few words.  How can these men, who are so dedicated, and have given so much even ask if it could be them that would betray the Lord? 

They can because after the spending so much time with the Savior, they have learned about house fragile human nature is, how sensitive the spirit of the Lord is, and how prevalent the adversary is in his endeavors to thwart the plans of the Lord.  They ask this question because they look honestly within themselves, and realize that given the right circumstances indeed it may be them.

But is this not a question that we all should ask?

We sit in Sunday school and learn of the villains within the scriptures and the ancient stories.  We have moments of revulsion as we read about Laman and Lemuel, Nehor and Korihor, the Lamanites and just as often the Nephites, and even Judas Iscariot himself.  But are these not people, people who are just as fragile as the rest of us?  Do we not look into their stories, their lives, and their personalities and see a little of ourselves?

Are there not times in our lives when that very question, “Lord, is it ?” is the most pressing and honest question that we could ask?  We sit and we listen to stories of betrayal and attitude, we observe and judge others for their acts, and we at time complain about our circumstances and surroundings.  Yet, how often do we ask with sincere and honest introspection, will with intent to learn the answer, and then to action upon that answer – “Lord, is it I?”