Have you ever noticed that the only reason to trust in the Lord is that it’s all going to work out great for you in the end? That’s the way the doctrine is generally taught, at least. And it’s true, taking the long view. But I’m not sure it’s very helpful to jump into such a commitment with so blithe an assurance of the happy times just around the bend.
One of the things the movie version of The Work and the Glory does very effectively is illustrate how very painful life must have been for Joseph Smith in the years after his life-shaking first revelation. Yes, we know he was mocked and laughed at, even stalked and beaten up some, but we rarely consider that that must have caused him some very real pain. He was not only a prophet, but a nice little kid, hoping to make it in the world, hoping to earn some respect in his little town, hoping to get good paying jobs and present a respectable face to a prospective father-in-law someday. He probably wanted friends, probably hated being the butt of jokes. I wonder if desires for esteem are what led him to his period of “many foolish errors” and “divers temptations.” Joseph’s personal hopes– things you and I take for granted but hold very dearly– were stripped from him for the most part in those early years. Don’t miss the fact that in the ecstasy of so holy a calling, there must have been many very sad, lonely nights for a scrawny teen to deal with.
I felt real pangs for Joseph while watching an actor portraying some of the scenes of his marginalization. The other thing I admit to feeling was that it was sort of mean of God to put him in that situation. It was a strange conclusion, all heart and no head, but I’ve pondered that thought frequently since then.
The issues become more pertinent as I’ve rammed up against a moment of my own where I am called to decide whether I’ll give in to the will of God or not. I find that despite my general commitment to Christ, my commitment still doesn’t reach the level required– of abandoning my own will and just handing it over to him. Against this backdrop, it is quite striking to read these words:
Behold, they do not desire that the Lord their God, who hath created them, should rule and reign over them; notwithstanding his great goodness and mercy towards them, they do set at naught his counsels, and they will not that he should be their guide.
I admit that it’s hard to want to let God be my guide. I love his input and advice, but I really want the drivers’ seat myself. Part of my stubbornness might have to do with what I’ve seen him do with others, like Joseph Smith. I’m fully aware that Joseph has gained eternal glory for his pains. But how can I convince myself that I’d do the same for the same reward? Frankly, it’s not easy.
I note, as well, what Jesus was asked to do. The best example of submission to God is also the being who suffered most on this earth, by an infinite margin. Even in Jesus’ instance, the submission and sacrifice all worked to his own eventual glory. But, oh, how hard the road.
Even with the resulting reward, could Jesus have gone through with it if motivated only by the palaces prepared for him? At the height of his sacrifice, would Joseph have offered himself on the altar just to assure that things would turn out right for him?
If not, why do we try to motivate ourselves to submit to the Lord because we’ll always end up better off?
Abinadi tells us that the will of the Son was swallowed up in the will of the Father. We tend to exult in this metaphor without paying heed to how scary the imagery is. When I pause over its meaning, the phrase ‘swallowed up’ makes me quite claustrophobic and even slightly fearful.
But as I’ve learned more about myself, I’ve not only learned how resistant to this complete surrender I am. I’ve also learned that it’s the only way to achieve what I need to. Without turning it all over to God, I’m going to fall short, having already done so many times. So that leaves me with a simple choice, fraught with peril.
Considering my choice, I think back to the other great scriptural image of being swallowed. Yes, Jonah is the key archetype in my own drama. And I find his story quite instructive about my alternatives. Ultimately, Jonah never had a choice about being swallowed. He had to be subsumed by some force, be it good or evil. By rejecting the divine subjugation that is discipleship, he had made up his bed– and it was in the belly of a beast.
But the truly important point to notice is that Jonah’s choice wasn’t between two equal surrenders. While we may phrase it sloppily sometimes, God never asks us to let ourselves be swallowed up in his will, just as he never asked this of Jesus. He asks only that our wills be swallowed up. This stands as a very attractive alternative to having one’s entire being swallowed up, as Jonah was by the whale.
What does this story teach us then? That we can either submit our wills, our agency, to the Lord while remaining wholly ourselves, individuality and personality intact, or we can brave the tempest-tossed sea on our own, and surely be swallowed up whole.
It’s important that the scriptures tell how Jesus has earned the right to swallow up my will in his. It’s not the first cup he’s drunk, and not the most bitter. Hear Isaiah:
He will swallow up death in victory; and the Lord God will wipe away tears from off all faces.”
Jesus swallowed up the sting of death. There’s hardly any room left on the altar next to that.
I conclude that this is a painful process for all involved, from the beginning. It’s messy and full of sacrifice. But it’s also silly to think only of how much it’s going to hurt me. The key to letting my will be swallowed up in his is to remember that’s he’s already drunk agony on my account. To accept that my ransom was paid, but remain captive, is not only foolish for me, but terrifically demeaning to that great sufferer of sins. Perhaps if I see reasons larger than myself as justifying the pain of surrender, I can remain committed to this decision even when I don’t feel the promise of happy endings being fulfilled.
But in those times, I am promised another aid to support my devotion. “Yea, and he also gave them strength, that they should suffer no manner of afflictions, save it were swallowed up in the joy of Christ.”
It’s hard to accept that God has not promised to save me from pain, a promise he also did not offer to Joseph, nor even to his Beloved Son. But Jesus only asks that I let my will be swallowed because he swallowed death itself, a far greater sacrifice than mine. And the result is that my afflictions will be swallowed as well, in his pure joy. I think that’s enough to make me take the plunge.