Most of you students listening to this talk today have great dreams and aspirations. For some of you, these dreams have been systematically recorded as written goals. For others, they may be just whispy hopes of how life will turn out to be. Hope springs eternal in the hearts of the young—especially those seeking a college education. What would your dreams sound like if reduced to writing?
About this time every year, some people begin to compose their annual Christmas letters, the newsy epistles they stuff into envelopes with their Christmas cards. Christmas letters are a custom in the United States, especially among Latter-day Saints. Let’s fast forward twenty-five or thirty years and read a Christmas letter that reflects the fulfillment of some of the dreams you and your classmates may have. We’ll pretend this one is written by you or your spouse.
“Dear family and friends,” the letter begins inauspiciously. But it builds from there. “Our Christmas greetings this year come from the sunny beaches of Hawaii, where Mary and I are spending the holidays with all of our children. Actually, Mary and I have been here since we stopped by on our way back from Oslo, Norway, where we jointly received the Nobel Peace Prize.”
With humility, the letter continues: “If the truth be known, the Peace Prize came as a total surprise to us. After I won the prize for chemistry a few years ago and Mary won the one for literature, we thought we were done. For most recipients, as you know, a Nobel Prize is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. But life is full of surprises.
“Anyway,” the letter continues, “enough about the two of us. The children are all doing great. John Jr. finished his mission this year as assistant to the president and returned home in time to start spring football practice. He’s able to spend only a couple of days with us here in the islands because he has to get back to prepare for the BCS championship game. Being quarterback for the number one team in the nation does have its drawbacks.
“While we were in Oslo, we were pleased but stunned to learn that John Jr. had won the Heisman Trophy—again. It came as a real shock to us, especially after the two years he took off for a mission. In hindsight, I guess we should have known he was a serious candidate, since he also won the trophy during his freshman, sophomore, and junior years. But we didn’t want to assume anything. And if the truth be known, the fourth Heisman wasn’t quite as thrilling as the first. When he graduated from high school at age sixteen and immediately became starting quarterback on his college team, we were thrilled. When he won the Heisman that same year, we just couldn’t believe it.
“Our daughter Ann is following in her mother’s footsteps. She brushed up that novel she wrote during her sophomore year and sold it to a major New York publisher. It’s been at the top of the Times bestseller list for twenty-six weeks now, and sales show no signs of slowing down. She’s having a tough time deciding which offer for movie rights she should accept. We’re pleased that she won the National Book Award and the Pulitzer Prize while still in college—and she’s only nineteen.
“Finally, our dear little Suzie is quite the prodigy, if we do say so ourselves. Participating in both the summer and winter Olympics, she has now won twelve gold medals. Although she’s just seventeen, she received her third technology patent last month and already has royalties running in the millions. After passing by offers to teach at Harvard, Oxford, Julliard, and M.I.T., she has focused on musical performance, and her first recording just reached platinum status. She’s been interested in politics for a long time, and officials in our state are already talking about running her for senator—that is, when she gets old enough to qualify.
“We all love our church callings. I really enjoyed serving as bishop at age twenty-five, stake president at thirty, and mission president at forty, especially after I sold my start-up company for billions and was able to retire young. Mary has been serving as stake Relief Society president and has nearly worn herself out on the fireside circuit. Being on the cover of Time, Newsweek, and half the fashion magazines this past year has been flattering for our family, but I think we liked being on the cover of the recent Church News most of all.
“Well, we hope the past year has been as good to you as it has been to us. Best wishes for a Merry Christmas and a happy New Year.”
A little over the top? Perhaps. But most young people have dreams of life that end, like fairy tales, with the line, “And they lived happily ever after.”
Please don’t misunderstand me. The Book of Mormon teaches us, “Men are, that they might have joy.”[1] Happiness really is life’s purpose and will ultimately be our blessing if we live the laws on which it is predicated. But it may not come in quite the way we expect it. We sometimes think that being happy means avoiding all problems, and we may grow disillusioned if our superficial dreams seem to shatter. We may forget that one of life’s requirements is to face opposition and overcome it—and we don’t always get to choose the kind of opposition we will face.
Simply put, mortality’s tests mean that life won’t turn out exactly the way we planned it. For example, most young Latter-day Saints plan to marry. They hope for spouses who are spiritual giants, besides being physically attractive, mentally brilliant, and emotionally strong, supportive, and fun-loving. In addition, many just assume that someday they will be rich—or at least prosperous enough not to worry about money. Many young people plan to be healthy their whole lives, living to a ripe, old age while retaining all the beauty and vigor of youth. Most hope to have children someday, children who are born whole and healthy and who grow up to be well-behaved and accomplished, both spiritually and temporally.
If we have such typical dreams, at some point in life disappointing reality may set in, bringing with it heartache. For example, despite a strong desire to marry, many persons go through life without ever having the opportunity to do so. Some who marry experience the distress of watching a spouse wander from the path of righteousness. Others struggle with their spouses through physical or mental illnesses or tragic accidents that may permanently alter some aspects of the marriage relationship. Still others experience the pain of becoming widowed or divorced.
Many couples who long for children find themselves childless. Others have children, only to lose them to death. Still others help bring children into the world who face challenging physical or mental handicaps. Many teach the gospel to their children, only to watch, in dismay, as they wander into sinful paths or make other serious mistakes that might have been avoided.
Despite dreams of riches, most people end up facing financial challenges that create deep worries. Some students struggle through school only to find that the “real world” is even colder and crueler than they expected. Some dream of acceptance into a particular graduate school or program, only to face rejection. Others make it in and work hard but fail to achieve the worldly success or recognition for which they hoped.
Even those who seem to succeed in school and land high-potential jobs may still face reverses. Health problems, family difficulties, economic downturns, layoffs, and other challenges can derail or destroy careers.
Why am I telling you all this?
Not to discourage you—quite the contrary. What I want to do today is focus our thoughts on one simple concept that will lead to the kind of success that really matters in life—success that lasts beyond the grave. That simple concept is true love.
“What?” some of you are thinking. “I thought he just told us that true love may never be ours in this life!”
If you’re thinking about “true love” in the mushy, oohy-gooey, Hollywood sense, you’re right. But that’s not what I’m talking about. In fact, Hollywood’s version of “true love” may be a contradiction in terms. The kind of “love” often touted on television and in movies seems to be an endless pursuit of a selfish romantic high. When one partner fails to deliver the required fix, the so-called lover moves on to the next one, trying to regain the high, like a drug addict seeking more or harder drugs. I have watched people move from one girlfriend, boyfriend, or spouse to another—sometimes with the cloak of legalized marriage, sometimes without—all in the hopeless pursuit of Hollywood’s version of “true love.” But what could be less true than such unfaithful chasing of what turns out to be merely a mirage?
No, the kind of “true love” I am talking about today is not something that we chase. Rather, it is something that we choose, using the divine gift of agency. Anyone—regardless of physical appearance, emotional appeal, or marital status—can have this true love. It has two components: (1) a selfless attitude, and (2) selfless action.
To illustrate what I mean by real true love and to contrast it further with its counterfeit, let me give an example from the marriage context—though once again I emphasize that it is not restricted to marriage. One reason I’m using this marriage example is that many of us in this audience today will not be fooled by Hollywood’s counterfeit love, but we may fall into our own version of it if we are not careful.
So here’s the scenario, BYU–Idaho style: A young man and young woman meet and begin to date. At some point, they begin feeling a romantic attachment for one another. The feeling grows intense. Soon they feel that they can’t live without each other. Being faithful and honorable people, they maintain the standards of the Church and of the Honor Code. Before long, arms wrapped around each other, they are gazing longingly at the Rexburg temple. They get engaged. Eager to be married, they pine for their temple wedding day. Finally it comes, fulfilling a lifetime goal and followed by a blissful honeymoon. True love, right?
Well, not exactly. Let’s call it an opportunity for, or perhaps even the beginning of, true love. But true love in its fullness will come only over time as our commitment and faithfulness is tested. Remember the definition of true love: (1) a selfless attitude, and (2) selfless action. In our BYU–Idaho example, how much of what happens during the dating, engagement, and honeymoon comes about because of selfless attitudes and actions? If we are not careful, we can easily fall into the trap of thinking more about ourselves in such settings than about the other person. However wonderful we may feel at the time, that is not true love.
We laugh when we hear the old joke about the young woman on her wedding day who sighs to her Mother, “At last, I am at the end of all my troubles.” Her wise mother responds, “Yes, dear. You just don’t know at which end.” We laugh because there is so much truth to this statement. Even in our own Latter-day Saint culture, many men and women on their wedding days are focused inwardly on themselves. Just look at the pronouns in our example: “At last, I am at the end of all my troubles.” It is this inwardly focused attitude that makes me hesitate in calling our BYU–Idaho version of romance true love, at least in its fullness. Remember again that true love is a selfless attitude combined with selfless action.
For those fortunate enough to marry, loving a companion is comparatively easy during the heady, euphoric days of dating, courtship, and the honeymoon when beautiful bodies, shared dreams, and raging hormones make spending eternity together seem incredibly attractive. The real test of love comes when beauty, intellect, and emotions fade and much of what we hoped to get from marriage may seem no longer possible—at least in this life. Contrast the popular concept of romantic ecstasy with true love in the full, mature sense. President Gordon B. Hinckley has said, “I am satisfied that a happy marriage is not so much a matter of romance as it is an anxious concern for the comfort and well-being of one’s companion. . . . Selfishness is the antithesis of love.”[2]
My windows in the Church Office Building let me look out onto the plaza south of the building and east of the Salt Lake Temple. Most weeks of the year, and especially from spring through fall when the weather is warm, brides and grooms fresh from the temple walk across to the plaza to have wedding pictures taken. Local visitors and tourists often stroll through the Church administration block and Temple Square to see the flowers and fountains for which they are famous. When they see brides in their wedding dresses and grooms in their formal attire, they often stop and watch, as if to say, “Ah, young love . . .” And it is a lovely sight, a picture of hope for the future, a future that can be glorious if the newly married man and woman can shed selfishness and focus on giving, not just receiving.
When I want to see true love—genuine true love—I look at Temple Square and the adjacent Church campus blocks to behold not just the brides and grooms but to watch the hundreds of young and senior missionaries who pass in, out, and through the blocks going to and from their assignments. I see mature couples, sometimes wrinkled and bent with age, walking hand in hand after a lifetime together that has seen trials and tests of their love. I see young and elderly singles likewise going to their assignments, focused on the Lord’s work and their opportunities to serve others. I see them all going to and from missionary assignments that are sometimes routine or thankless but utterly unselfish, assignments that contribute to benefiting others with little recognition or personal gratification of a worldly nature. Old or young, married or single, walking or wheelchair-bound, they help bring to pass the Lord’s work and glory.
Some of these missionaries come from humble circumstances, others from more affluent homes. Some have attained worldly recognition in their careers, others very little. But they have one thing in common: they will all someday die. Life, for all its wonders, is a terminal condition. Be it today or a century from now, all of us will someday pass beyond the veil into the next life and come to the judgment bar, where our attitudes and actions will be weighed in the balance. What will be the verdict then?
Think about King Belshazzar mentioned in the fifth chapter of Daniel in the Old Testament. He was rich and renowned and reveled in luxury and lust. He threw a party for “a thousand of his lords,” and “they drank wine, and praised the gods of gold, and of silver, of brass, of iron, of wood, and of stone.” In their eating, drinking, and merriment, they forgot about tomorrow until suddenly there “came forth fingers of a man’s hand, and wrote” a message on “the plaister of the wall of the king’s palace.” Suddenly the merrymaking came to a screeching halt; “the king’s countenance was changed, and his thoughts troubled him, so that the joints of his loins were loosed, and his knees smote one against another.”[3]
The king called for his “wise men”—“the astrologers, the Chaldeans, and the soothsayers”—“but they could not read the writing, nor make known to the king the interpretation thereof.” Finally, at the queen’s suggestion, they called for Daniel, a man filled with the Spirit of God. They offered him the same enticements they had offered the others: that he should be “clothed with scarlet, and have a chain of gold about his neck, and . . . be the third ruler in the kingdom” if he would just interpret the writing on the wall.[4]
“Let thy gifts be to thyself, and give thy rewards to another,” Daniel replied unselfishly, “yet I will read the writing unto the king, and make known to him the interpretation.” And interpret he did, clearly and unflinchingly. “This is the interpretation of the thing,” Daniel said. “God hath numbered thy kingdom, and finished it . . . Thou art weighed in the balances, and art found wanting.” That night was the king’s last.[5] What reward in the eternities do you think was his?
Brothers and sisters, the writing is on the wall for us too. Will we spend our days in the selfish pursuit of fame and fortune, lust and luxury? If so, we too will be “weighed in the balances, and . . . found wanting.” Or will we spend it instead selflessly serving the Lord and our fellowman?
“Which is the great commandment in the law?” a lawyer asked Jesus in Matthew 22:36. Jesus answered:
37 . . . Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind.
38 This is the first and great commandment.
39 And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.
What are the two great commandments on which the rest of the scriptures hang? Love of God and love of our fellow human beings. True love. Love that combines a selfless attitude with selfless action.
But what about getting an education, making a living, and developing talents? Aren’t those righteous goals? Don’t they count for anything? Of course they do. But in the end, they have little value unless combined with true love—what the scriptures call charity. Moroni 7:47 tells us that “charity is the pure love of Christ, and it endureth forever; and whoso is found possessed of it at the last day, it shall be well with him.”
It all comes back to charity—true love—unselfish attitudes and unselfish actions. It doesn’t matter what else we accomplish in life. If we obtain degrees, wealth, and honors untold, we are nothing without charity and will be found wanting at the last day. The same is true even of great spiritual gifts. Without charity, they profit us nothing. Paul concludes his treatise on spiritual gifts in 1 Corinthians 12 by admonishing us to “covet earnestly the best gifts: and yet,” he adds, “shew I unto you a more excellent way.”
Then follows his masterful discourse on charity in chapter 13. Think about education, wealth, talents, fame, and spiritual gifts in light of his words:
1 Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.
2 And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing.
3 And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.
What’s he saying? Can we exercise spiritual gifts or have great faith or give all our wealth to feed the hungry and still lack charity? Yes, if we do those things with selfish intent, for personal recognition, or primarily for our own satisfaction or advancement. True charity subjugates all those desires to unselfish intent. Paul continues:
4 Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up,
5 Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil;
6 Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth;
7 Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.
8 Charity never faileth: . . .
. . . .
13 And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.
This great principle of charity—pure love, true love—requires both unselfish intent and unselfish action.
Applying charity may mean giving up some of our lifetime hopes and dreams in favor of something better, though it be difficult and even painful at times. It means facing the challenging parts of keeping our covenants, fulfilling assignments, and living righteously, even if doing so causes agony.
The perfect example of unselfish attitude and behavior is our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Despite planning His whole life to work out the great atonement in our behalf, He in all His wisdom and perfection was surprised by how hard it finally turned out to be. We read the following in Mark 14, beginning with verse 32:
32 And they came to a place which was named Gethsemane: . . .
33 And he taketh with him Peter and James and John, and began to be sore amazed, and to be very heavy;
34 And saith unto them, My soul is exceeding sorrowful unto death: . . .
35 And he went forward a little, and fell on the ground, and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him.
36 And he said, Abba, Father, all things are possible unto thee; take away this cup from me: nevertheless not what I will, but what thou wilt.
How did God the Father react to this prayer?
He could, of course, have taken the cup away—but not without spoiling the great plan of happiness. He could remove pain in the present, but not without spoiling the future. In His great love—His pure unselfish love for His Only Begotten and for all of us—He permitted the pain to continue that Christ could win the victory over death. Of one thing, we can all rest assured. God knows us; He loves us; and He will bless us with whatever we need to be ultimately happy. But that happiness will come from bending our will to His, learning of His purposes for us, and serving in whatever circumstances He provides for us.
That may mean changing our plans, shelving our dreams, and facing realities we hoped never to confront. Bending our will to the Lord’s may be our greatest challenge in life. He knows better than we do what is best for us and allows us to face agony that at times seems unbearable. Bending our will to His includes accepting His timing. God’s greatest blessings come in His own due time, often after much pain. We must wait patiently for these blessings, which may or may not come not in this life but will come eventually to the faithful. How often have we been guilty of praying, “Please bless me with patience . . . and I want it right now!”
While we are waiting for unrealized but righteously desired blessings, we should not languish or murmur. If marriage, children, economic security, or any other blessing sought with unselfish intent does not come to us soon or ever in this life, we should, like the Lord, say to the Father, “nevertheless not what I will, but what thou wilt.” Meanwhile, we should recognize and take advantage of the opportunities the Lord does provide. They are all around us, but we need to open our spiritual eyes to see them.
Alma the Younger was converted after an angel spoke to him with a voice of “thunder, which shook the earth.”[6] It should not surprise us that as a missionary, Alma thought it would be nice to try the same conversion technique on others. He cried out, “O that I were an angel, and could have the wish of mine heart, that I might go forth and speak with the trump of God, with a voice to shake the earth, and cry repentance unto every people!”[7] Alma’s conversion was the exception and not the rule, however, and he realized the need to bend his will to the Lord’s: “But behold,” Alma concluded, “I am a man, and do sin in my wish; for I ought to be content with the things which the Lord hath allotted unto me.”[8]
Like Alma, we should all be content with what the Lord has allotted to us, difficult or painful or frustrating though it may be at times. President Spencer W. Kimball taught:
If we looked at mortality as the whole of existence, then pain, sorrow, failure, and short life would be calamity. But if we look upon life as an eternal thing stretching far into the premortal past and on into the eternal post-death future, then all happenings may be put in proper perspective.
Is there not wisdom in his giving us trials that we might rise above them, responsibilities that we might achieve, work to harden our muscles, sorrows to try our souls? Are we not exposed to temptations to test our strength, sickness that we might learn patience, death that we might be immortalized and glorified?
If all the sick for whom we pray were healed, if all the righteous were protected and the wicked destroyed, the whole program of the Father would be annulled and the basic principle of the gospel, free agency, would be ended. No man would have to live by faith.[9]
As President Kimball taught, we should live by faith, accept what has been allotted to us, and go forward unselfishly in the spirit of true love to advance the Lord’s purposes.
If we live by the Spirit and break out of the selfish shell of self-pity, we will recognize the Lord’s purposes and become an instrument in His hands. Sometimes life’s greatest challenges are the problems or handicaps that seem irreversible in this life, those that aren’t healed miraculously as we might hope. Yet charity, the scriptures tell us, “envieth not” and “seeketh not her own.”[10] Seeking not our own means that we don’t have to wait to be perfected, or to be healed ourselves, or to have all of our own needs met before we reach out to others. Some of the greatest examples of love come from those who disregard their own needs to help others.
In general conference a year ago, Elder Don R. Clarke of the Seventy told how his grandfather went blind and could no longer care for his farm on his own. He received a notice requiring him to make a $195 mortgage payment, something that seemed impossible given the family’s reduced circumstances. Then a miracle occurred. Elder Clarke’s grandfather later wrote:
I shall never forget that cold evening, just before Christmas of 1919. It looked as though we would lose the farm. My daughter, Gladys, laid a slip of paper in my hand and said, “This came in the mail today.” I took it to her mother and asked her what it was. This is what my wife read to me, “Dear Brother Larsen, I’ve had you on my mind all day today. I am wondering if you are in financial trouble. If you are, I have $200 you may have.” The letter was signed “Jim Drinkwater.” Jim was a small, crippled man, and he would have been the last man on earth that anyone would have thought had that much money on hand. I went to his house that night and he said, “Brother Larsen, I received a wireless message from heaven this morning, and I could not get you off my mind all day. I was sure you were in financial trouble.” Brother Drinkwater gave me $200 and we sent the $195 to the mortgage company, and with the extra $5 we bought boots and clothes for the children. Santa Claus did come that year.[11]
Jim Drinkwater, the “small, crippled man,” demonstrated true love. How easy it might have been for him to wallow in self-pity or to think of the comforts he could buy with his money. Instead, he prepared himself by righteous living to be in tune with the Spirit of the Lord. He had selfless intent, and when the “wireless message from heaven” came, he took selfless action.
The hymn “A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief,” sung by John Taylor just before the martyrdom of Joseph and Hyrum Smith, contains the following verse: Stript, wounded, beaten nigh to death,
I found him by the highway side.
I roused his pulse, brought back his breath,
Revived his spirit, and supplied
Wine, oil, refreshment—he was healed.
I had myself a wound concealed,
But from that hour forgot the smart,
And peace bound up my broken heart.[12]
The character in this hymn chose to look past his own wound to bind up someone else’s. That is true love. That is what the Savior freely gave to us. That is what we must choose to give if we will be happy.
As it was in Daniel’s day, the writing is on the wall for all to see. It is in the scriptures, in the words of our modern prophets, on the Internet, and even on posters held up behind home plate and the end zone during television sports broadcasts: “God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son.”13 His Son gave His all for us and commanded, “Love one another; as I have loved you.”14 The pure love of Christ—charity—is selfless intent and selfless action. At the final judgment bar, will our selfish pursuit of worldly aims lead to the verdict, “Thou art weighed in the balances, and art found wanting”?[15] Or will a lifetime of true love instead bring the welcome words, “Enter thou into the joy of thy lord”?[16] Remember, “Man is that he might have joy.” Choose true love.
In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.
Notes
[1] 2 Nephi 2:25
[2] Gordon B. Hinckley, “What God Hath Joined Together,” Ensign 21 (May 1991): 73
[3] Daniel 5:1, 4-6
[4] Daniel 5:7-8, 16
[5] Daniel 5:17, 26-27, 30
[6] Mosiah 27:18
[7] Alma 29:1
[8] Alma 29:3
[9] Teachings of Presidents of the Church: Spencer W. Kimball (Salt Lake City: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 2006), 15
[10] 1 Corinthians 13:4-5; Moroni 7:45
[11] Don R. Clarke, “Becoming Instruments in the Hands of God,” Ensign 36 (November 2006): 97
[12] “A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief,” Hymns of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Salt Lake City: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 1985), no. 29, verse 5
[13] John 3:16
[14] John 13:34, 15:12
[15] Daniel 5:27
[16] Matthew 25:21