Beholding the Wind, the Earthquake, and the Fire

Tomorrow is General Conference.

It has got me thinking this week about how the Lord speaks to me, and how I can prepare myself to hear the voice of the Lord.

In the Book of Mormon, before the resurrected Lord appeared to the Nephites, there were some dramatic geological changes. Earthquakes, mighty winds, and fires broke up the rocks, buried their loved ones, and devastated their communities. In their disrupted state, it says "they heard a voice...and it was not a harsh voice, neither was it a loud voice; nevertheless, and notwithstanding it being a small voice it did pierce them that did hear to the center." (3 Nephi 11:3)

We have had some significant shifts in our socio-political landscape recently. I think I have more respect for the earthquake, the wind, and the fire than I ever used to. Most importantly, I appreciate the way this pandemic and the turmoil of 2020 has prepared my heart to hear the voice of the Lord.

Revelation Can Come from the Bottom

I used to believe that all revelation for the world must come from the top-down, from the prophet. I still believe that when it comes to official policies and changes to the church structure, this is true. I leave that to them. But I do not believe that the work of seeking and preparing for those policy changes leading up to those answers is up to them. It is my job to be a seeker, to ask my questions and engage with difficult issues until my heart breaks wide open and the Lord can speak with a whisper to my heart. If we just passively wait for God to speak to us by semiannual announcement over the pulpit, it removes our responsibility in the process of revelation. It would disengage us from the process, and not to mention make us very angsty and powerless. We might find ourselves wringing our hands when our leaders aren't saying the things we want them to say. We might wonder why our prophets act more like administrators, or like custodians of the church in Zarahemla, instead of crying repentance on the wall like Samuel the Lamanite.

The teachings of prophets at conference and throughout the year have stayed relatively constant: a pleading for faith in Jesus Christ, repentance, and covenant making and keeping. The announcement of temples adds a bit of zing semiannually, but it is still a predictable part of the conference. Even the recent changes from our current prophet President Nelson that we breathlessly talk about, not to minimize their significance, are really more like "small and simple" policy changes, things like moving church services from 3 hours to 2, a new ministering program, young women can now hand out a towel at the baptismal font, older and younger men are realigned into a single Elders Quorum, women can give their nod as witnesses when a person goes all the way under the water, and single men can now serve in bishoprics. All these changes are just small shifts that reflect greater, much more miraculous trends in a changing world. If all we see are these policy changes, we might miss the "marvelous work and a wonder" part that the Lord is doing in the world.

When it comes to the social change that is required to make space for the restoration, it is a collaboration of many. Revelation of this kind is more likely to be bottom-up. Grassroots movements lead out to address major problems in our society, and we now have the technology to make these conversations go even farther, faster. Not all of these movements are good or inspired, of course, and some are downright dangerous spiritually, but when a group of people seek for something good, either within or without of the church, and as we seek the will of the Lord as these things flash across our news pages, it can open the doors for further revelations from God. 

The next step, it seems, is for the church to then quietly adjust its policies to reflect the revelatory changes that are already happening in the world. It is a much more inclusive, collaborative approach, with many good people outside the church being recruited by the Lord in the process of preparing the world for Christ. This can be frustrating to some who believe that the church isn't leading out more on serious issues, but I believe it is more in line with way God works. He doesn't do a job with one servant when he can use a million, so that more people, both inside the church and out, can receive the blessings of their service.

In short, we need to get over the idea that we are the only heroes preparing the world for the Second Coming. 

Too often we disparage the work that goes on outside of the church. The protests, the marches, the battles for a cause. Yes, sometimes it is loud. Sometimes it is messy. Sometimes it is complicated. It is always done by imperfect people, and we always need the spirit to know which political storms are bringing us closer to Zion, and which ones are taking us further away. And yes, we do need to be careful that we are not so caught up in the earthquake that we miss the still small voice that comes after. But the work of preparing the world for the second coming must first be loud, messy, and complicated. Slavery didn't end without a fight. Women's suffrage wasn't handed out without making some noise. Civil rights don't happen without a protest. With todays numerous issues, it is obvious that corrupt power will not relent to our demands quietly. Instead of turning our back on that work of preparation for God's Kingdom to expand, we can stand on the mount with Elijah and behold it. Be grateful for it. Feel the way the Lord comes quietly to His people after every noisy political storm. 

Beholding the Earthquake, Wind, and Fire

My mind keeps going back to Elijah's vision on the mount. Elijah had been called of God and retired to a cave, feeling completely overwhelmed and frustrated in his responsibility as prophet. It says, "he requested for himself that he might die; and said, It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life; for I am not better than my fathers." The Lord continued to feed Elijah in his dejected state for forty days by ravens. After that, the Lord asked, "What doest thou here, Elijah?"

In that moment, Elijah stood upon the mountain, 

"And behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the Lord; but the Lord was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake; but the Lord was not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice." (1 Kings 19:9-12)

Like the case of the Nephites, it feels like there is a preparatory role that the wind, earthquake, and fire must play before Elijah can receive the quiet voice of the Lord. These forces rend mountains, break in pieces the rocks, and make room for something else to move in. As we look around the world and see the political movements, the social change, the upheavals, the social media comment threads and arguments, the loud clamor of the world, we can see how it provides needed change and also the catalyst for our own quiet moments with the Lord. Joseph Smith would never have retired to a grove of trees without the "war of words and tumult of opinions" that prepared his mind to seek for the Lord. 

We cannot receive difficult answers without asking difficult questions.

Before the Restoration, there was the Reformation. Noisy men and women who broke up the rocks of religious persecution for us and were martyrs to make God's word available to the boy who drives the plow. Today, the work of breaking up the social and political landscape to make space for the still small voice is ongoing. The work of the noisy laborers goes forward in tandem with the stillness of the restoration. We may not like the sounds of jackhammers and bulldozers and nail guns outside our window, but we had better get used to it, because they are busy building our house. And maybe we should get out there and help throw a hammer, too.

From our messy efforts in whatever cause we feel inspired to enlist in, I believe that the Kingdom of God will always move forward quietly behind us, filling in carefully the spaces carved out for it by the winds and earthquakes and fires we make.

"But the Lord was not in the earthquake." The role of the church never was to be a major player on the stage of politics. That is a role given to regular, ordinary people, like you and me, regardless of our religion or lack thereof. By in large, it is up to us to do the work of asking and seeking for greater knowledge, not to wait idly by for Elijah, or President Nelson, or God's representative to mandate social justice from the mount.

"If you have desires to serve, ye are called to the work."

To Whom Shall We Go?

At the end of a pandemic year, and after a year of disappointments, disillusionment, and frustrations, perhaps feeling our spiritual hopes crash against the harshness of reality, some of us may be questioning our faith. We might see the failures of our own church to measure up to our ideals. Others may just feel underwhelmed. After so long being fed on pathetic morsels of nourishment brought to us by the ravens in a cave of pandemic isolation, we might feel the Lord asking us, as I have felt Him ask to me, "What doest thou here, Christopher?"

Or, as Christ asked Peter after so many left Him when He failed to live up to their expectations as a mover and a shaker in the political issues of their day, "Will you also go away?"

Last Sunday as I looked at the tokens of Christ's body and blood up there on the stand, and looking around the chapel at the good "small and simple" people gathered around me, I felt, as Peter did, the words in my heart, "Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life." (John 6:68)

What the church does is different from the earthquake, or the wind, or the fire. It is quiet. It is small and simple. It is "peace, not as the world giveth." It is the church of the same man who was found quietly doing good away from the power structures that existed in His day. His work takes place in the souls of men and women, filling the emptiness left by the storms, and healing the unseen woundedness of our hearts. He is the God of lepers, of blind men, and of the woman at the well. It was Bethlehem that defined His life the most. He was a great big giant letdown to those who wanted Him to skip the small stuff and overthrow the Roman Empire already and stop wasting time with simple sermons about faith and repentance and baptism.

Whatever keys were turned at the start of this dispensation, whatever messengers are being sent today, whatever heavenly seals are being opened in preparation for the Second Coming, they are going to come from God to the whole world, and involve not just a few. I hope to be involved when I can. And always, like Elijah, I will stand on my mount and behold it all with wonder and thanksgiving, recognizing the hand of the Lord when I see it.

And after the earthquake and fire and wind that passes by in my newsfeed each week, I will make sure that I spend time with that still small voice, and return to Christ's sacrament table every Sunday, "that I may always have His [still, small] spirit to be with me."

So, considering all that has happened in the last six months, I will be looking for a still small voice, not an earthquake, tomorrow at General Conference.